Breakout (15 page)

“Bass,” says Keenan.

They kind of blink at him for a second, then all turn back to me. “But you’re the singer and the guitar player!” one says. “You’re so awesome!”

“What do you know, runts?” Keenan snaps at them. “Get out of here.”

They scurry off, and as we start walking toward town, I can see that Keenan is in a dark mood.

“Don’t let that get to you,” I say.

“Nah, it’s cool,” he says, but he’s just staring at the ground and I’m not sure I believe him.

Since it’s just the two of us, we stop at Arcane Comics, which is something like what we used to do before girls and famous songs.

We check out the latest issue of
HyperMole
, which is from Japan and about this subterranean force of moles and voles that fight hellbeasts. It’s one of those comics that you don’t pick up until you check to see who’s around, because really by eighth grade it’s kinda too babyish to be reading, but at this point we’ve been following
HM
for like eight years. That’s over ninety issues, plus three annuals, four graphic novels, and a brief animated series (plus the even briefer live-action-feature failure that we do not talk about) and so we’re pretty invested in what happens. Plus the store is basically empty at the moment except for the two owners, Zak and Alice, and they’re busy behind the counter geeking out over a
Serenity
comic because they’re old.

“I had like twenty people today tell me they loved the song,” Keenan says.

“Me too,” I say from across the aisle. “What do you think will happen at the meeting?”

Keenan just shrugs. “I don’t know but I’m not gonna worry
about it until then.” He passes
HyperMole
over to me so I can get in a quick flip-through.

“Mmm,” I say, and I wish I felt like he does but I don’t because
all
I can think about is the meeting. “I bet not only will Ms. Tiernan definitely say no, but she’ll find some stupid way to punish us for this.”

“How? It’s not like we did anything wrong. You wrote a song.” Keenan shrugs and sounds like he might be annoyed with me for worrying. “They can’t do anything about it.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, but I feel kind of annoyed back at him because how can he really know what it feels like? It’s like those kids said outside school: I’m the one who wrote the song and did almost everything on it, so I’m allowed to be worried about what will happen.

The rest of the walk home, I can’t shake this annoying nervous feeling. It’s like, I can’t enjoy how people are loving the song and how the band is blowing up, because the song is something I’m
responsible
for. I don’t try explaining this to Keenan, because I know it sounds like the song is more mine than ours. Except it kind of is, isn’t it?

And even though that means I’m going to have more people telling me I’m awesome, it also means that if Tiernan decides to try to punish us for the song, I’m the one who’s going to get the worst of it.

When I get home I check BandSpace and it’s:

There’s a new comment:

There’s a link and when I click on it, there’s this selfie mirror shot of a girl standing in the bathroom with one hand on the mirror and one holding her phone. She’s in a tiny tank top and jeans and her eyes are huge and sort of look like she’s crying. She’s pretty hot, but I’m not sure how old she is. She might only be like a sixth grader and this is not good. This could be my sister in a couple years.…

That thought keeps me from sending the link to Keenan. I try to think of what to write her back, but then I get kind of freaked out. What if she sends more pictures? I can only download so much data a month and my parents would freak if they found pictures of strange girls on my phone, and so I look at the photo one more time and then delete the message.

I get my homework done with as little effort as possible. After dinner I think about practicing, but I don’t feel like
it. There’s too much to worry about for tomorrow. I play some
LF
, but suck and get really mad. I don’t want to do anything, play anything, check anything. So I end up watching cheesy sitcoms with my parents and sister, and waiting for the night to go by.

On Tuesday before school it’s:

While I’m eating my Kashi and blueberries I find a comment that says:

I click to reply but see that Keenan already has.

Definitely! Go for it!
Keenan wrote.

It bugs me. I feel like it should have been
my
decision about letting the guy use the song, not Keenan’s. Maybe I
didn’t want the song on that podcast except
duh
of course I did. Keenan did the right thing and we’re a band and it should be fine, but it still makes me a little annoyed. I wrote the song. I should at least have some say.

The day is kind of a blur and I am waiting to hear from Mr. Darren and I am hoping to talk to Valerie but we don’t sit near each other all morning and I can’t quite find her between classes. I don’t feel like talking to Keenan really either. The podcast thing is still bugging me. But we walk to lunch together because that is what we always do.

On the way, James, the guitar player from the Bespin Mining Guild, finds us in the hall.

“Hey, guys,” he says, and he’s kinda shuffling his feet, flicking a pick between his fingers. “I just wanted to say how much I really like ‘Breakout.’ ” He sounds like a rookie trying to talk to the veterans. “The riffs are sick.”

“Oh, cool,” says Keenan. I’ve noticed he’s always more excited when someone comments about the music. I realize that everyone’s been mostly commenting on the lyrics of the song, so this is good for Keenan because it helps keep us away from the lead-singer-guitarist-gets-all-the-attention danger zone, except then I wonder: does that mean James didn’t like the lyrics?

“You guys are totally going to rule Arts Night,” says James.

“Yeah,” says Keenan, and I see that he’s standing a little taller like he’s awesome.

And now I feel a flash of annoyance again. Sure, we’re a band, but it’s my song, not Keenan’s. It’s almost like he’s getting cocky about something he barely had a part in. All he did was put a bass line on it. And now he’s getting compliments and replying to podcasters?

As we head to lunch, James trailing along beside us like a loyal dog, I say something that’s crossed my mind these last couple days:

“You know, I’ve been wondering if we should maybe change the band name.”

Keenan looks surprised. “Huh? To what?”

“Well, I was thinking something that fits better, like how about Android Lawman. I think it has a little more … attitude.”

“Wow, Android Lawman is cool,” says James, like he’d say yes to anything I said. “Like C-3PO in a cowboy hat.”

“Sure,” I say.

“But I thought we liked the Rusty Soles,” says Keenan.

“The Rusty Soles is totally cool,” says James quickly.

“I have that album cover idea,” says Keenan.

“Yeah, but still …” I wave my hand. “Whatever, we’ll think about it,” I say.

James heads off and Keenan is silent beside me. I notice he’s not looking happy anymore and I think,
Good, that
knocked him off his high horse
, except then I feel guilty. Ugh … 
whatever!
Suddenly it’s all too much to think about. But that annoyed feeling won’t go away.

We are just about to enter the cafeteria when we hear, “Hey, guys.”

It’s Mr. Darren. He’s just arrived and is carrying his guitar case and is still wearing his beat-up leather jacket with his motorcycle helmet under his arm. “The meeting is going to be right after school today. In Ms. Tiernan’s office.”

“Has she heard the song?” I ask.

“No, but I told her the situation and gave her the site to find the song.” He shrugs. “So I’ll see you there.”

We head into lunch. We are the last ones in and there is no room at the table where Skye and Katie and Meron and some other kids are so we end up sitting at an empty table nearby.

Keenan has the school lunch. He starts to eat his sandwich, and it’s something breaded, either fish or chicken or
some strange genetic mutation of both, who honestly can tell? It has this smell like hot salt and I have a sucky sensation of just wanting that sandwich really bad. I picture the men in the secret back room, in their white lab coats, watching my dilemma on video screens and grinning and wringing their hands.
We’ve got him. It’s only a matter of time before his defenses fail
.

My lunch is from home. Tuna salad in whole-wheat pitas. Where Keenan has potato chips, I have a nonfat yogurt, but I maybe also bought a cookie that I won’t mention to my parents. I need it today because Mom’s idea that a granola bar is dessert is crazy when there’s so much going on, and it’s only a cookie so who cares? One cookie is not going to lead to freakin’ amputation and I can’t worry about everything
and
that right now.

We both sit there eating quietly. There’s nothing to talk about that matters until the meeting. And I can tell that Keenan is mad about my idea to rename the band.

“You don’t like Android Lawman?” I ask him after a minute of silence.

He looks at his sandwich, not me. “I just thought we were all set on the Rusty Soles. That’s all. I didn’t know you didn’t like it.” He sounds disappointed.

“It’s not that I don’t like it.” Sitting here now, I am not feeling that same frustration as before. I don’t actually mind the Rusty Soles all that much. Maybe I should drop it. Everybody already knows us as that anyway, and in the end even a name like Radiohead sounds pretty dumb if you really analyze
it, but it’s like once you’re famous it doesn’t matter and any name seems perfect. “It’s cool,” I say. “Saw that you wrote to that DJ.”

He finally looks up. “Oh, yeah. I figured that would be cool, right?”

“Yeah, totally,” I say, and he’s right,
duh
, of course it’s cool. Except that it bothered me. But what difference does it make if Keenan writes or me? Same band. Now I am wondering why I was mad.

“Three thousand one hundred and nine plays,” says Keenan, looking at his phone.

“It’s slowing down a little,” I say.

“We’re almost has-beens,” Keenan jokes.

I smile. It feels better to smile and joke than to be annoyed. I feel a big weight roll off my shoulders. Have I been totally stressed out and not realized it?

“It’s like,” Keenan is saying, “pretty soon we’ll be drunk all the time and they’ll be waking us up on the set of a reality show.” He grabs himself by the hair and pulls his head off the table, then says in a fake British accent, “What’s that? Don’t you know who I am, why you—” then drops his head like he’s passed out.

I laugh and it feels really good and I realize this is the first time that Keenan and I have just been joking around and doing our normal thing since before Sadie got suspended, Keenan and Skye broke up, the song, any of it.

“Forget what I said about changing the name,” I say. And that feels like more relief. “It was just a crazy idea.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Keenan shrugs. “I like Android Lawman too. We should start a side project.”

“Yeah, we—”

But then my phone buzzes. I pull it out of my pocket and find a text from Skye:
Showtime
.

I look over to her table and as I do, I hear a strange trebly sound.

I think I know what it is the moment I hear it but it takes me a couple more seconds to accept it. Keenan has already pinpointed the source: Skye’s phone is plugged into a little white portable speaker. I’ve always wanted one of those but never mind that. The point is, she’s playing “Breakout” and it’s already in the second verse.

I hear Meron say, “Turn it up,” and then Skye is making it louder and now even though it’s tinny, it is definitely loud enough for the tables around us to hear and there is this rush of murmuring like a wave as all these kids are getting each other’s attention.

I look at Keenan and he is frowning. “You can barely hear the bass,” he says, but then he seems to notice all the kids who are paying attention and he starts to smile. “Hear it for real on the Rusty Soles’ BandSpace page!” he calls out in what is now officially his
famous Keenan
voice.

Everyone is listening and there are people shushing and so then even more people are listening and soon practically the whole cafeteria has gotten quiet.

Skye is smiling miles wide at me and as the song is heading right up to the end I do have a feeling like,
This is amazing!
This is my song, our song, and we’re sitting here in the normal old cafeteria, just like any other day, only now it is totally different because everyone is listening to my song!