Someone out There Loves You

Mr. Hendrick’s handed me a manilla envelope, containing photocopies for the textbook’s final chapters.
“thanks, Mr. H,” I said.
He nodded. “Since I won’t be seeing you by the end of the school year, Clayah... it was a pleasure having you.”
I smiled. It was totally out-of-the-can, and I knew he said it to every student that left him, but it felt nice to hear. Since September I had thought Mr. Hendrick’s hated me. Not that I thought he was Jesus.
“And I hope you enjoy your trip,” he said. Teachers were the only ones who knew where we were going, students just thought we were each traveling to different countries/ going to visit family/ moving to Wisconsin for the semester.
Mr Hendrick’s leaned toward me, as if telling me a secret. “And by the way, Australia? Best lemon meringue pie in the world.” I laughed.
Saying my final goodbyes, I walked out into the abandoned hallways of Barrington High, taking in a deep breath of satisfaction. But the strangest feeling hit me; I wasn’t sad to go, per say, but the fact that I wasn’t going to see the graffiti covered lockers and littered floors did turn up a bit of nostalgia.
“Oh God, you’re still here?”
“Hi, Madison dear,” I said, oozing sugar-sweet sarcasm. “And look, you brought the ape.”
Darren narrowed his eyes at me. “Want a final ass-kicking before you leave, Shit Shier?” he said, loosening his grip around Madison’s shoulders and stepping toward me.
I rolled my eyes. “Simmer the testosterone down a notch, would you?” Darren clearly had no idea what I’d said, but at Madison’s tug he fell back.
“I am so happy I don’t have to see or hear from you ‘till you get back from Spain,” Madison sneered.
Like I said, we didn’t tell the school (when asked, we’re not braggers) where we were all going. And me saying I was going to Spain wasn’t a lie. We were going to Spain. In the summer.
Plus (beside the fact that everyone knows who Green Day are) Barrington had some pretty severe My Chemical Romance fans, especially since Bob Bryer was from Chicago. And after what happened at the House of Blues before Christmas we decided we didn’t want to get mauled. Ever again.
“Because I’m gonna miss you two so much,” I said flatly.
Madison broke away from Darren and walked up to me, an evil grin on her face. No matter what she was about to say, I would be in a good mood-- I adored marveling at the bandage that was still on her nose (only for the dramatics of it).
“You know, Clayah,” she said, her face mere inches from mine, “It’s funny that you try and bother me. I have so much more then you do. And you just can’t stand that.” She smiled. “You’ll never amount to anything.”
I laughed internally, considering the circumstances. Until she said,
“Just like your pathetic dad. Maybe I can get his lame-ass fired while you’re gone.”
My insides caught on fire. Too far below the belt.
“I don’t think you wanna do that.”
“HA. And why not?”
“My dad may work below yours, but my dad’s an amazing surgeon. And even though I tried, someone’s got to fix that hawk nose of yours.”
As soon as my sentence ended I regretted speaking. Madison’s face morphed into something straight from the hounds of hell, and --once is “brain” caught up-- Darren moved toward me with his neck veins bulging.
While I was negotiating the chances of my wake needing to be open or closed casket, a sudden tug came on my backpack.
Drew swung me around and we both ran for the doors, hearing Darren’s heavy footsteps and Madison’s high pitched fuming behind us. Drew’s car was right at the front steps, and we jumped in, promptly locking the doors behind us. As we were about to pull out, Darren jumped in front of the car.
“OUT OF THE CAR, SHIER!” he yelled. “YOU TOO, BRYANT.” Darren grinned, thinking he was quite smart as he said, “You’ll have to run me over and rot in prison if you want to get out.”
Drew snorted. She shifted gears, turned her head, and pulled back into the empty space behind us. She shifted gears again and pulled out of parallel. We flipped off Darren’s stunned face in our wake.
“Thanks, Drew.”
“You had me scared SHITLESS, Clayah!” she screamed. “I waited outside for twenty minutes--”
“It took longer to get the papers then I thought,” I defended.
“--And I come in to find you facing SUICIDE!” She let out an explosion of gruff, vocal anger sounds. “I understand about wanting a last blast, but Jesus just throw a water balloon and run! Don’t try and take those two psychopaths on, it won’t exactly be easy to tour without a singer!”
“Drew, chill for a second,” I said. “It won’t be easy to tour if we’re splattered on the road, either, so ease up about twenty miles an hour before we get arrested.”
She did and took a deep breath. “Okay,” I sighed. “So the flight leaves a ten oh five, and we should get to O’Hare by nine or so. Monster is gonna pick everyone up, then we go back to The Bungalo where a cab-bus-thing is gonna take us to the airport...”

“SURPRISE!”
Parents stood in the kitchen of The Bungalo when the band walked in.
“Holy shit!” Mark laughed.
“How the hell did you get in here?!” Levi yelled, stunned.
Everyone’s parents were in stupid party hats, the kind you wear at your sixth birthday party, and Drew’s mom, Lydia, held a HUGE cake in her hands:
Congratulations, Rush and Ruin!
...and a bunch of happy birthdays!
“We’re so proud of you kids,” Dad said, “We wanted to throw you a little something before you leave.”
“And you’re going to be gone on birthdays,” Mark’s dad, Grant, added. “So we added that.” He gestured to the cake.
For the next forty five minutes before the bus-cab got there, we sat in the living room eating cake opening presents. BADASS presents, might I add.
Monster’s parents were in Hawaii, so they had to be brought up on webcam.
“Open the FedEx box next,” Monster’s mom, Helen, said excitedly. “It’s for Blake and Levi.” Monster’s parents pretty much raised Levi like their own for years, and I saw Levi go a bit soft at the fact that they had sent him a present, too.
Grant’s pocket knife was pulled out and styrofoam peanuts flew everywhere as the guys rooted for their gifts. I picked one off of my lemon frosting while the guys faces melted in happiness.
“OH MY GOD!” Monster screamed.
“MARSHMALLOW GUNS!” We all freaked out.
Monster’s parents laughed. “There are ten of them,” Monster’s dad, Martin, said. “So you guys can play with them with one of the other bands. They might be a bit too old for marshmallow guns, but it was just a thought.”
The whole band started laughing at the idea of ANY of the other guys being too old for marshmallow gun fights.
Amongst the other gifts were 500 dollars a piece (Monster’s folks provided for Levi, again) to spend on fun things, a gigantic bag of Starbuck’s coffee beans for me, a bunch of bags of Lifesavers and sour gummy worms for Mark (ever since we were little he had an awful sweet tooth), and a box set of the Saw movies on DVD for Drew.
A honking noise came in through the open window. The band started to clean up, but the parents stopped us. We were smothered in hugs and love from everyone’s parents.
“Bye, sweetheart,” Mom said, devouring me in a hug. But I let her and Dad swallow me up. I was really going to miss them. We weren’t going to be back in Chicago for at least a month, and after that who knew?
“We love you, kiddo,” Dad said. I let him get away with calling me “kiddo” this time. He hugged me and then held me at arm’s length, smiling. The way he looked at me was really... weird.
“What, Dad?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared. Mom took on the same expression, only hers weighed with sadness.
“Clayah,” Dad said, “You know your mother and I love you very, very dearly, right?”
“I know, Dad.”
“I mean it, Clayah,” He put his face close to mine. “We love you unconditionally. Always.”
His tone was so firm and heartfelt that it hurt me even more to think of leaving. So I threw my arms around my parents one more time, and thanked them for letting me do this.
“I wouldn’t be here without you. I love you guys.”

“FINALLY,” Drew said, plopping into her seat. I sat down in front of her, next to Mark. We had gone through O’Hare a hundred times, having some serious trouble finding our gate. What really pissed us off?
When we found it, it was right by the front door.
“Time to take off yet?” I groaned.
“Oh my God! HI, CLAYAH!” I turned my head to see Barnabus waving at me.
“He’s on this flight?” Mark said. Monster put his head in his hands, giving up.
Barnabus now came over and sat in the empty seat across the aisle from me. “I can’t believe we’re on the same flight!” he beamed. “Serendipitous, isn’t it?”
“Not really, Barnabus,” I said.
He ignored me. “Hey! What hotel are you guys staying at when you get there? WE CAN GET ROOMS RIGHT BY EACH OTHER!!” I heard Levi let out a whimper.
“Uh,” I said, “We’re actually going to be staying on our bus for the night. To get used to it. We leave around noon tomorrow.”
“Wow, where’s your bus? Can I come?”
“FUCK. NO.” Drew had lost it. “Barnabus, go BACK to your goddamn seat.”
Barnabus leaned toward me. “She’s kind of cranky, isn’t she?” he whispered.
I wanted to snap at him too, but he was a good kid, and I would just feel mean. “She is,” I nodded. “But we’re probably taking off soon, so you really should go back to your seat.”
An hour later, I stare out the window at the world below. The cabin was dark, spare Drew’s phone; she may have been tired, but it was really hard for her to leave her boyfriend, Paul, back home, and she spent a lot of the flight texting him until she finally crashed.
But I was the last one asleep. I was still trying to wrap my head around this entire thing-- it seemed so unreal.
But I was even too tired to dwell on it. So I just let myself gaze out at the world below, getting lost in it, waiting to fall asleep. That’s the last I remember before waking up, hearing the captain say, “Welcome to California.”