On Sunday, while Dad is at church, I drive over to Theo's to set up for the party. We pull the big, oriental-looking rug out of the family room and roll it out on their back lawn. Since we don't have a stage, we figure this is the next best thing. Finding a tangled pile of extension cords in the toolshed, we plug them in and drag them out to the rug. I hook up my guitar amp and three portable speakers, facing them back toward the house and patio.
Just before lunch, Darren drops off some beer and a keg, which Theo set up on the back patio while I continue to hook up the band equipment. We mostly work in silence, with Theo cracking the occasional crude joke and me laughing in response. I've never been the loud type. I'm not much of a clown or a cool-guy, but I think Theo's personality balances me out pretty well. He pushes me to do things I might not ordinarily do. I guess it's good for me to get out of my comfort zone. Although, I still prefer to stay home alone. But I think that's just because, in general I don't trust people – or like them all that much. People are too unpredictable, constantly wavering between good and bad. You never know what you're to get from people until it happens, but by then it's too late. It happened. Then, you're left to survive the fallout all on your own. And by the time you pick yourself back up, it happens all over again. Because the great unknowable mystery of life is how someone you think is good could do something so bad. And it happens, over and over.
For lunch, Theo orders a family-size pizza from Joey's, our favorite pizza parlor. When it comes to pizza, I have no restraint. I eat almost half of the whole thing by myself. Theo eats the rest. Lucky for him, he's on the football team so he burns carbs like crazy. And me? Well, I just have an outstanding metabolism. I go to the gym a few times a week, but mostly just go running whenever I feel up to it.
Theo tosses the empty pizza box in the recycle bin and plops back down on the Adirondack chair, taking a swig of his beer. I crack open a can of my own and take a drink, turning to survey our setup.
"Looks good," I say, pleased.
"Yeah. Can't wait to get this party started, man," Theo says, patting his bloated stomach.
Will and Jace come walking around the side of the house, drum kit and keyboards in tow. I jump up to help them as they struggle to carry everything across the grass.
"Is Stacy coming tonight?" Jace asks.
"Yeah, but she works late again."
"That girl is a workhorse," Will says.
It's true. Stacy's always been a very studious, goal-oriented person. With college in her sights, she spends most of her time studying or working after school. Whatever free time she has is split between her family and me. If we're lucky. She doesn't let anything get in the way of her bright and shiny future. Sometimes, I can't help but wonder if I'm part of it.
When 7 o' clock comes around, people begin to arrive. Within thirty minutes, Theo's backyard is abuzz with the sounds of scattered conversation, a hand-selected party playlist, and young couples making out as if there's no one else around them. Some even decide to take a dip in his pool and hot tub, but I know Theo doesn't mind. Further out in the yard, a group of guys rally to toss a football.
I weave through the crowd of students toward my guitar. Tuning it, I watch as freshmen and seniors interact awkwardly. It's amusing to watch it all unfold.
After a while, Theo takes center stage, microphone in hand. Behind him, Jace and Will position themselves at their instruments and I step to my mic, shifting the guitar strap on my shoulders so that it's comfortable.
YOU ARE READING
Every Bright and Broken Thing
Teen FictionSometimes things have to break just so they can be put back together - bigger, brighter, better. Both haunted by the last question their mother ever asked them before she passed away, the Greyson brothers and their father, a pastor, struggle to pull...