Brendan Dude

Christmas break came to a close and the new semester unfolded right before my eyes. Fresh electives, more kids, but the same core classes, so I still had science, math, language arts, and history with the same stupid teachers.

Now, I had Spanish for one elective. I could learn another phrase other than, “Dónde están mis pantalones?” My other one was art, which was neat, even if the teacher was a total valley girl. It was an easy A.

One day during Spanish, I got a note to go to the front office. I was confused. Maybe I forgot about something dumb I did. That thought escaped me after meeting up with Ren, Luke, and Soria. They were headed to the same place as me, and they, like, never even got suspended before, so I couldn’t have been in trouble if I was with them.

“What do you think it is?” Ren asked with a raised eyebrow. All of us shrugged in response.

“Shit, I dunno,” I laughed.

Soria tilted her head like she just figured something out. “Well, only the four of us are going. Gee, I wonder what that’s all about,” she said sarcastically, a smirk crawling on her face. (She’d been spending far too much time with Ren.)

We went to the administration building, talking about how lame our new electives were. I had the most to say, since I didn’t have either one with any of them, and therefore it sucked.

Luke held the door open for us and we presented our passes. One by one we filed into Mrs. Richardson’s (our principal) office to find out what was in store for us.

“Good morning,” she greeted calmly. We mumbled something back to her with no enthusiasm, but she still seemed happy.

“As you know, the talent show is coming up,” she started. The four of us smiled in unison, knowing where this was leading. “And you remember last year when we had Fiberlight play before you all, right? We always let the previous winners perform as the opening act. So I think we know where this is going - can I guarantee you’ll be there?”

I stood up and started dancing. The high I got last year from performing was definitely a force I wanted to feel again. The others stayed in their seats, but they agreed to the event…

And we had a gig! Again!

We sauntered out the front office doors and ran back to our classes with smiles on our faces. See, I didn’t get nervous about these things - I got excited. Especially with the rest of Plaster Caster by my side.

I instantly wondered what song we were gonna play, but it didn’t matter since every one was awesome in my book. Soria had a ton of lyrics in her infamously cluttered desk. I knew a lot of them were private, so she didn’t share them, but that wasn’t surprising to us. We were used to it.

When I think about it, I don’t think Luke minds going up in front of a crowd, either. He never freaked out, period, actually.

But man, Ren! The poor kid got so worked up last year, he kept stuttering before the show. He always went crimson and his palms actually dripped with sweat, and his voice starts cracking - that’s especially craptacular if you’re going through puberty. I still wonder what changed his mind the night of that show.

Anyways, Plaster Caster had a chance to win over the seventh graders this year just like we did last year. They really didn’t get why we were praised, since we didn’t have a true FlySpace with studio music and were only heard live. We just didn’t have the money to buy any recording equipment, though if we did, we’d definitely put together a demo. Someday, I thought.

Pretty much the only time we’d played outside a school environment was at a New Year’s Party our friend Kevin threw a year back – when we were still in seventh grade. It was basically a basement show. Besides the fact that I was a little too close to the crowd for comfort, it was awesome and I sort of wished we could do it again. Alas, none of us were a part of that scene so it wasn’t like we knew when the next party was gonna be. And don’t even get me started on this shit gig Joey hooked up for us that same year…God, it was awful. I don’t wanna think about it.

Either way, I wasn’t a loser when I was playing the drums. I loved the feeling of being admired, and that people weren’t thinking of me as “That idiot who tried to kick that other kid’s butt the other day.” No, I was “that kickass drummer.”

I couldn’t help but smile on my way back to Spanish.

- - -

I rode home on the bus just like any other day and came home; after becoming numb to school every day felt the same.

As soon as I walked in the door, I felt my body slam against the wall. When I looked to see who my f-bomb would be aimed at, Joey’s naturally dark swooped fauxhawk and demonic eyes were smirking evilly at me.

“How was school?” he spat.

“At least I went,” I muttered.

He lifted up my backpack and slammed it down to make me stumble backward into the front door. Then he left.

“Brendan, have you seen David?” Mom interrogated, entering from the garage. I shook my head, still angry at Joey.

“Seriously! That boy is never home.”

You said it, Mom.

Christmas treeing my homework just to get done with it, I daydreamed about Plaster Caster’s new gig and all of the ways we could wow the crowd again. Once I was done, life went on and night carried through. And boredom never failed to surface.

In the middle of the night, though, I got a rude awakening.

Literally.

“Dude, wake up. Wake up, dude. Brendan, dude, wake up. Dude.”

I mumbled incoherently while someone’s hands shook me awake. Then they slapped me awake. Hard.

“Nnnnnfuggghhh…duuuuude…”

I took a good smack to the forehead. That woke me up.

“Agh!”

“Shhh!”

It was David, his eyes wide as the Grand Canyon. He stumbled over his words, slurring and mispronouncing here and there and stuttering like a maniac. The alarm clock read 3:12, and of course, I was not happy to be conscious at this hour.

“The hell you want, man? I gotta sleep,” I grumbled. David looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes for a while.

“…Darryl says hi.”

I groaned. And who the hell was Darryl?

“Go to freakin’ bed, man. It’s three in the morning.”

He gasped dramatically. “Oh yeah. That’s right, you go to school. Well I won’t keep ya.”

…That’s something I’d always kind of liked about him. He was stupid. And he did stupid things. But a lot of it was stuff that he didn’t realize. It’s kind of like me. He meant well, but sometimes I wonder if he really knows what his actions will do to people.

And if it’s all on purpose.