Catastrophic Happenings

“It’s that red-bricked house at the end of the road,” Rick pointed. “And…I think that that’s her in the driveway.”

Sammy and Cade peered out the window as Rick backed the van in.

“Hey,” Azalea greeted as the three started to climb out of the van. She had cooled down considerably since Austin didn’t join her in the driveway.

They made their way to gather at the back of the van, where Cade immediately started to size Azalea up. He thought, Skinny. Freckles. Super pale. And even if she could sing, people would think that she hasn’t even hit puberty yet. She probably can’t even fit an A-cup bra.

“Hey Azalea,” Rick greeted. “This is Sammy and Cade,” he said while pointing to each one respectively. Cade is the lead guitarist.”

“Aspiring lead singer,” Cade corrected as he met her with an obvious glare.

Azalea thought that Rick should have warned her that there would be drama. She just bit her tongue to restrain from calling him a first-class asshole. It wouldn’t be the smartest decision to jeopardize her chances by angering him further.

Sammy on the other hand smiled and jumped up to extend his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Azalea was a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm, but was relieved by his kindness.

“You’ll have to excuse Sammy. His a bit hyper…always,” Rick said.

She smiled at the bright-haired boy, “I’m cool with hyper.”

“Uh, where’s Austin?” Rick asked before Cade could have another opportunity to talk.

“Hopefully on your mom’s couch choking on Sour Cream and Onion Lays,” Azalea said with tightly crossed arms.

Sammy repressed a chuckle as Rick said, “I take it that you two did not get along very well.”

“Well, let’s see.” Azalea theatrically placed her index finger on her chin. “He broke into my house, walked in on me while I was getting dressed, and then told me that I was a stuck up, rich brat that would screw the band over.”

Cade started to laugh, but Rick swung his hand to hit him flat in the stomach. He searched his mind for a possible excuse.

“Austin can be a little judgmental.”

The swishing sound of jeans against grass was then heard and Austin’s tall figured emerged from behind the side of the garage.

“And cue the discriminatory jerk face,” Azalea said as she glared Austin down.

He joined their circle, “I was out of line.” Austin hoped his apology sounded heart-felt. since he actually meant it.

Azalea scoffed and shook her head while muttering, “Whatever.”

She then parted Sammy and Cade to get to the trunk of the van. “Is it open?” she asked Sammy.

“Yepperee.”

Azalea opened both of the doors so that the entire trunk was exposed. To the left was one of the band’s speakers. She walked over to it, placed a hand underneath, and wrapped the other around the side. The four boys stared at her with intrigue and surprise as she hoisted it up with a grunt, balancing it on her knee before she began walking.

No one said a word as she made her way across the grass to the back of the house.

“Hey Austin,” she yelled with her back turned, “aren’t you gonna be a gentleman and hold the door open for me?”


The van was unloaded, the equipment was set up, and everyone was in his or her respective place. Tension existed between everyone in the room. Cade was practically mad at everyone in the cool basement besides himself, and he made that known with his constantly glaring eyes and occasional sighs. The basement was quite large, with a home theater and a pathetically equipped workout area on the other side of the staircase. Rick couldn’t understand why his mom’s basement had either of them.

The moment was finally here; it was Azalea’s opportunity to prove herself.

If only they could decide on a song.

“What about Paramore? That’s what I sang for Rick,” Azalea suggested.

“I don’t know the notes to any Paramore songs,” Cade stated rather rudely.

“Yeah, me neither,” Austin added, though slightly kinder.

Austin really was sorry for saying those words to Azalea earlier. Truthfully, Austin always resented the kids that lived in Azalea’s neighborhood, and communities like hers. His family was far from impoverished, but he knew what it was like to not get that Game Cube for Christmas. And he went to school with them—or at least, the ones that were sent to county after flunking out or getting expelled from prep school. They were all lazy bastards in his opinion. So Austin naturally assumed that that went for Azalea as well.

“How about Flyleaf?” Sammy suggested from behind his drum set.

“Me no scream,” Azalea said.

“Why don‘t we just do one of our songs?”

Rick was standing in front of the group, listening to all their suggestions. His hand was cupped around his chin as he stroked his stubbly face. “She doesn’t know any of the lyrics, Austin.”

“I’m really good at memorizing.”

Rick looked skeptical, “Are you sure?”

She shrugged, “Yeah. Just give me a copy of the lyrics and ten minutes and I’ll be good.”

Cade scoffed in a level louder than natural.

Azalea closed her eyes as soon as she heard him, trying not to lose her patience. Three seconds later she opened them up and looked at Rick.

“If you gave me the song title would I be able to find them on Google?” Azalea asked, but mostly out of pure curiosity than trying to be efficient.

“Probably not,” Rick admitted.

“If you get a piece of paper and a pencil I’ll write them down for you,” Austin offered.

Azalea looked at him, and saw that he was being sincere. “Okay,” she started walking to the staircase, “I’ll go ask Mrs. Under for them.”

Rick turned to the band once he could no longer hear her footsteps. “Any profound thoughts?”

“She’s just a rich bitch,” Cade replied.

“And you’re basing that opinion off of what?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t jump the gun with that accusation. She and I got into a fight about it before you guys came. And she is feisty.

Rick chuckled, “I told you she had spunk.”

“I’m pretty sure that was the bitchiness talking,” he concluded.

“Cade, you’re helping no one with that attitude,” Austin finally confronted him. “We’ll be out of here in less than thirty so for now please shut your mouth and just play your guitar.”

The sound of Azalea’s footsteps returned as she walked back into a silent room, a white legal pad and blue pen in hand. She looked over all of them, wondering what she had missed that made the air even thicker.

She sucked on her teeth, “Sooo…lyrics anyone?”

Austin tilted his head to the other side of the room, and they settled on one of the couches as Austin started writing the lyrics down.

“Hey, what song?” Sammy asked loudly from behind his black drum set.

“’Sugar it Up,’” Austin answered without his eyes veering from the paper. “Can you give me your iPod so she can listen to it?”

Sammy took his iPod Touch out of the back pocket of his faded jeans and threw it high in the air over to Austin. Azalea automatically leaned away, breath held until Austin caught the soaring device. He handed it over to Azalea and told her, “It’s under ‘Hits the Spot EP.’”

She nodded and put the earphones in while she tried to locate the song. Once she did, she pressed play—instantly being welcomed with a loud bass and a deafening drum roll. Azalea turned down the volume and closed her eyes, trying to remember the rhythm of the words.

Austin tapped her shoulder when he was done and placed the legal pad in her lap. She paused the music and started to read.

“Who wrote the lyrics for this?” She inquired after reading through it once.

“Jason and I,” Austin answered.

“Hmm.”

“Why do you ask?”

“It’s weird,” she responded as she rested her elbows on her legs. “Some parts of it are just forced rhyme, but other lines have some really good references and actually hold meaning. It’s so back and forth.”

“Maybe you should stop criticizing and start memorizing,” Cade suggested.

“Hey, that rhymed,” Sammy exclaimed. Azalea couldn’t help but smile at his childish proclamation.

Rick looked over to Cade, “Now what did I say about playing nice?”

“Bite me.”

Azalea turned to Rick, “Just gimme like, ten minutes.”

He nodded, “Do you need Austin to get out of your way?”

But she couldn’t hear him since her ears were already warped in the song and her eyes already glued to the lyrics. Azalea constantly kept playing it back and forth until she was sure she memorized the entire song. She then took the ear buds out and said to Rick, “I’m ready.”