Mixtape for the End of the World Read online

  “I guess. As ready as I’ll ever be,” Derrick answered curtly.

  “Oh come on, Derrick. What’s wrong?” AJ asked.

  “I’m just burned out on all this,” Derrick admitted. “On all the rehearsing, playing the same songs over and over. I’m glad the talent show is tonight because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

  “Is this about Wednesday night? With Rebecca?”

  “Sort of. Some of it. I don’t know. I just miss jamming being fun, and it hasn’t been fun for me in a long time. I don’t know why. It feels like work.”

  AJ didn’t respond, just looked at his shoes as they continued walking.

  Derrick continued, “I don’t think it’s your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s, really. It just feels like we have spent so much time preparing for this talent show that we have forgotten why we wanted to do it in the first place.”

  “I understand that, but we have a good thing here, Derrick,” AJ said. “You’re not just the most talented musician I’ve ever met, but you’re also my best friend. I don’t want you to think this is work. I want to be a musician so that we can make music and enjoy life for the rest of our lives.”

  “I want that, too. But right now it just feels like it’s too much. I think maybe after the show tonight I’d like to take some time away from rehearsing.”

  “But what about the demo tape?” AJ asked.

  “We can work on it after Christmas,” Derrick said. “I just want some time to unwind. There’s so much going on that I haven’t really taken the time to slow down.”

  “Is this about Haley’s parents?” AJ asked.

  “Partly, if I had to be honest,” Derrick shrugged. “It’s that, it’s Rebecca, it’s this whole music thing in general. Like, what if we’re not destined to ‘make it’? There are so many musicians who never leave their own town, who never play in front of an audience. What makes us special?”

  “What makes us special?” AJ said incredulously. “You, man! You’re the heart of this thing. We live and die with you.”

  Though he was sure that AJ meant well, the prospect of being the main component of their band didn’t sit well on his shoulders.

  They had almost made it to Derrick’s house, and AJ continued, “For me, this band, our music, it’s what lets me drown out everything else around us. All I know is, when we’re making music together, when we’re jamming out and I can feel Dustin’s bass drum in my chest, it’s all I ever dreamed of.”

  “Yeah,” was all Derrick could muster.

  “Look, let’s just get through tonight, and then we’ll take a break til after Christmas,” AJ said. “We can record after Christmas when I get my four-track.”

  They walked up the sidewalk to Derrick’s house and walked into the warm and inviting living room. Doug was home for the day, and he was stoking a fire in the fireplace in the living room, squatting in front of it. The whole house had been decorated in Christmas colors, with a wreath hanging above the mantle.

  “Hey guys,” Doug said, turning to them. “Why didn’t you tell me you were walking? I would have come to give you a ride.”

  “It’s okay,” Derrick said as he shed his coat and backpack. “I just wanted a few minutes of peace before tonight.”

  “You boys ready for the talent show?”

  “I think so.”

  AJ nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Doug chuckled. “It’s okay. I appreciate the respect, but I’m not in uniform. You can just call me Doug.”

  “Yes sir, Doug,” AJ said.

  Derrick shook his head and AJ snorted his laughter.

  “Well, you guys are going to kill it tonight. I’m excited to hear you play,” he said.

  “When’s mom coming home?” Derrick asked. He and AJ had crossed into the kitchen, sticking their heads in the French doors of the refrigerator.

  “Any minute now. We’re going to make dinner before going to the auditorium. Tacos tonight,” Doug said.

  “I like tacos,” AJ said.

  “Well, you’re in luck because Dee’s tacos are the best.”

  As they talked, Derrick looked at the clock. The next three hours could not go fast enough.

  24

  ♪ Our Lady Peace – One Man Army ♪

  THE SCHOOL’S AUDITORIUM was packed, the families of the students spilling in out of the mid-December cold. The large theatre sat nearly a thousand people, with three sections of seating separated by two paths, plus a balcony on the second level overlooking the main level. At the front of the hall, the stage was framed in burgundy curtains that hung in rippling waves of heavy fabric. In the center, a large Mount Vernon Lion was painted on the middle curtain.

  The talent show was the Mount Vernon High PTA’s biggest fundraiser every year, with the proceeds going toward the senior class end-of-year celebration. Looking at the gathering audience, Derrick thought all of Mount Vernon came out for it. The only time he’d seen so many people from the town in one place was at the football games in the fall.

  The groups that were preparing to perform were all seated at the front of the auditorium. While one group was performing, the next would be waiting in the wings backstage. Even as everything was being prepared, his hands were already clammy. AJ, however, looked perfectly calm and relaxed.

  “Are you not nervous?” Derrick asked him.

  “Not at all. This is awesome. Look at how many people are here. Every single one of these people here is a potential fan. We just have to win them over.”

  “How are we going to do that?” Derrick asked.

  “Rock their faces off,” AJ said with a smile.

  Dustin appeared from behind one of the curtains on stage and joined them in their seats. “The drums are all set up. All we have to do is drag the riser in place on stage. Mr. Greene is handling the mixing board, and he’s got all the microphones hooked up.” He grinned. “We’re actually doing this.”

  They were all dressed in matching outfits, Dustin’s idea. In black shirts, blue jeans and black Converse sneakers, he’d convinced both Derrick and AJ that it would make the older crowd call to mind The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, the bands in the sixties that revolutionized rock and roll.

  “The crowd will love it, I promise,” Dustin had told them. So, they obliged, and they stood at the edge of the row of seats.

  “Just think,” AJ said. “This could be the last time we ever come to this school. Once all the computers go down, the whole world could end up in chaos.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Dustin said. “My dad said that some guy from corporate said the whole Y2K thing is a bunch of bullshit. Just something the news is throwing on TV every night for ratings.”

  “Well, I hope he’s right,” AJ shrugged. “Otherwise, it’s sayonara.”

  “Don’t say that, man,” Derrick said. “I’m already freaking out as it is.”

  “We’re gonna do great,” AJ said. He gave Derrick a playful punch to the shoulder.

  “We’ve never played for an audience like this,” Derrick said, scanning the gathering crowd.

  “Get used to it, because they’re only going to get bigger,” AJ said.

  Right at 7:00pm, the lights dimmed in the auditorium and Mr. Greene walked on stage to a raucous applause.

  “Good evening everyone and welcome to the thirty-fifth annual Mount Vernon High School Talent Show,” he said. “This year, we have some wonderful performers, and you will be incredibly entertained over the next hour. Before we begin, I would like to hand the microphone over to the PTA president, Molly Wilkins.”

  Again, a large round of applause, as Mrs. Wilkins crossed the stage. She wore a green dress with red accents, perfect for Christmas. She spoke into the microphone, her voice energetic and lively, full of a youthful exuberance despite being just over forty. “On behalf of the entire PTA, I just want to thank you for coming out and supporting this fundraiser event. I am happy to announce that this year’s ticket sales are the highest we’ve ever seen!
This is the largest crowd for the talent show ever!”

  The thunderous applause again filled the room, and Derrick gulped. He felt sweat under his armpits and in his hairline. The room felt stuffy all of a sudden, like someone had cranked the heat.

  “I’m going to run outside for a second, get some fresh air,” he said to AJ and Dustin.

  “Want me to come with?” AJ asked.

  “No, I’ll be right back. I just need to cool off.”

  Derrick left the aisle and, shouldering past the gathering audience, walked up the ramp to the foyer and outside. The cold air wasn’t as bitter as it was calming. The sky had that same look as it had that night that it started snowing, the clouds pregnant with impending precipitation.

  He walked off the sidewalk away from the front doors and to one of the benches that populated the walkway between the school and the auditorium building. As he started up the sidewalk, he saw Haley and her mother coming toward the auditorium. Ducking out of the way, toward a bench in the shadow of a tree, he knew he’d been spotted.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Haley break away from her mother and come up to him under the tree.

  “Are you hiding?” she asked.

  “Why weren’t you at school today?” he countered.

  “I just...couldn’t,” she looked at the ground, and he could tell that her face was puffy still, the remnants of tears cried in her swollen eyelids.

  “I was afraid you weren’t going to make it tonight,” he said.

  “There’s no way we were going to miss this. My mom wanted to get out of the house. Though she’s worried about people talking, I told her it would be good to be seen.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Derrick said. His heartbeat was slowing, and he felt calmed.

  “I’m glad I get to see your band. I’m excited,” she said.

  He looked up and she gave him a slight smile, her lips curving up her colorful cheeks.

  “Um,” he stammered, “where’s Ty?”

  “I don’t know. He’s not talking to me anymore.”

  “Did you guys break up again?” Derrick asked. Last time he’d seen them together, they were holding hands, though that had been nearly two weeks ago.

  “I…” she trailed off. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been hanging onto a Ty that doesn’t exist anymore. And even though I have tried to forgive him and move on, I just can’t get over what he did at my pool party.”

  “I understand.” His own relationship with Rebecca was up in the air as well.

  “Listen, I wanted to tell you first, before I told anyone else. I’m not coming back next semester.” Her eyes stayed on the ground, averted from his.

  Derrick felt a lump in his throat.

  “Why?” he started, though she cut him off.

  “My mom and I are moving across town, to an apartment. I’m going to Prep next semester.”

  Derrick pursed his lips.

  From the doorway of the auditorium, Derrick saw AJ appear, searching for him. AJ, seeing Derrick on the bench, waved him over and then went back inside the shelter and heat of the building.

  “I’d better go,” he said. “Looks like we’re about to get started.”

  As he walked toward the auditorium, Haley called out his name, and Derrick turned back around to her.

  “I just wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you,” she said.

  She walked toward the entrance of the building, making her way to the gathering crowd that filed in through the main doors that led inside as Derrick stood silently, taking in her words. After a few moments, he made his way across the school’s lawn and toward the auditorium’s back door to the stage area, lost in his thoughts.

  Haley and Rebecca, his friends, and their band. This entire semester had been a whirlwind, but Doug’s words stood out among everything.

  Your best friends walk with you through the fire. Derrick’s heart swelled, knowing that he was about to go on stage with his best friends.

  A hand grabbed his collar and jerked him back away from the building.

  He was shoved to the ground and before he realized what was going on, he was surrounded by a group of at least four guys.

  Derrick immediately recognized them from the football team.

  “Alright, asshole,” Ty said, emerging from the shadows.

  Derrick’s eyes went wide. He felt the cold wetness of the snowy grass beneath his body and he couldn’t get any traction to get away. Even if he could, he knew he was completely surrounded.

  He also knew that, here on the backside of the auditorium building, unless someone came out of the stage door, no one could see them. He was trapped.

  Ty continued, “I’ve had it with you. Ever since you came to school here, you’ve been a pain in my ass. Every time I turn around, you’re talking to my girlfriend. It ends tonight.” He turned to one of his friends. “Did you get it?”

  One of the other football players, shorter than the rest, but built like a barrel, came toward Ty. “Yeah,” he said. “It was backstage with the rest of the stuff.”

  The kid handed Ty a guitar.

  Derrick’s guitar.

  Derrick tried to stand up but he was shoved back down to the ground. Tears immediately welled in his eyes.

  “Please,” he begged. “I’m sorry. But don’t break my guitar. I need that.”

  Ty paid no attention to him, however. Lifting the instrument high above his head, he brought it down to the ground. The wood splintered against the concrete walkway, thudding hard as the neck snapped.

  Derrick screamed obscenities, crying and spitting.

  “No!” he continued to yell.

  “Now we’re even. You took Haley, I took your stupid guitar.”

  A man’s voice from the sidewalk called out. “Hey!”

  The football players looked toward the source as the man started jogging toward them.

  “What the hell is going on over here?” the guy asked.

  The football players scattered, sprinting away, leaving Derrick sobbing in the snow-covered grass.

  Derrick cradled his guitar in his hands, the maple neck snapped at the twelfth fret. The headstock fell lazily against his lap, held by the strings.

  The man knelt next to him.

  Derrick looked up.

  It was Ben.

  “What the hell happened?” And then, taking in the guitar, said, “Oh no.”

  “The football players. Ty,” Derrick tried to explain through his sobs.

  There was no way he could play in the talent show now. Even if he could get AJ’s guitar from his house, they didn’t have enough time.

  “Wait. What are you doing here?” Derrick asked, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

  “I help Mr. Greene run sound for the talent show every year, make a little bit of extra Christmas money,” Ben said.

  “I can’t play now,” Derrick said, lifting the shattered guitar. “They broke it.”

  “Get up,” Ben said. “I’ve got an idea.”

  Holding the remnants of a cigarette in between his fingers, he flicked the butt to the ground and helped Derrick to his feet. He then led him to the parking lot.

  Opening the trunk of his red Geo Metro, Ben grabbed a black molded guitar case.

  “Use mine,” he said.

  Derrick looked at him, stunned.

  “Meeting you, talking about music with you, it really made me want to play again. I realized that I missed it. I still have this old guitar and I got it set up at Sherman’s over the weekend,” Ben said.

  Setting the guitar case on the hood of the vehicle, he flicked the clasps and opened it up.

  Inside, cradled against the black velvet interior, was a butterscotch blonde Telecaster. Unlike Derrick’s shiny red instrument, it was worn and beat up, with paint chipped and rubbed off, exposing the wood grain beneath. The black pickguard was scuffed and scratched, lined etched in the plastic.

  Derrick’s breath caught in his chest. “It’s perfect,” he said.<
br />
  “It’s yours,” Ben said. “I’ll trade you.”

  Derrick looked at him, unable to process what he’d said. Derrick’s guitar was nice, but it was new. Despite the broken neck, it was a four-hundred dollar instrument. You couldn’t put a price on the years that Ben’s guitar had seen. You couldn’t put a price on all the music it had made over those years.

  “You can’t be serious,” Derrick said.

  “One hundred percent serious,” Ben said as he ran his hands over the red Telecaster’s body. “I can fix this.” The man examined the neck and the place where it bolted onto the body.

  “But I think this guitar,” he pointed to the blonde instrument in the case, “is ready for a new master.”

  Derrick took it in his hands reverently, examining every scratch and paint chip.

  “Now get in there,” Ben said. “And give ‘em hell.”

  25

  ♪ Collective Soul – Tremble for My Beloved ♪

  THE LIGHTS ON the stage were blindingly bright and the cheers of the audience were still echoing through the auditorium as the girls left the stage and Derrick, Dustin and AJ pulled their equipment on. They’d had the microphones, amplifiers and guitars all plugged into the mixing board and ready to go while Lindsay Gunther and her friends did a lip-sync dance to Nsync’s “Bye Bye Bye.”

  AJ took a look at Derrick, the butterscotch blonde guitar in his hands.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “Long story,” Derrick said. “I’ll tell you after we go on.”

  Once everything was in place and Derrick had his guitar slung over his shoulder, he gave it a quick strum to ensure it was in tune. It sounded smooth and bright. The worn body of the guitar had a heft to it that was more than just the wood. It was all the experiences the instrument had seen. The pedal at his feet showed a green light with each string and he knew they were ready. He gripped the neck, admiring the worn finish. How many songs had been played on this thing? How many stories did it hold? He would ask Ben to tell him all of them.

  The lights went down and Mr. Greene came onto the stage to introduce them.