Mitzi & Oz

Chapter 34: I Don't Give a Damn 'Bout My Reputation

Side A: Oz

The parking lot is jam-packed. Who knew a school concert would generate so much excitement, until I consider how there's nothing else going on in this town. This is a way bigger deal than even I thought. Dad starts to circle around, driving like five miles an hour.

"Let me out here!" I tell him, already opening the door.

"Oz," he complains, jamming on the brakes. I fall against the door but recover and jump out and start running.

From behind me, Dad calls, "Break a leg!"

I have to hope that I'm in time. Mitzi's performance was pretty early on in the lineup, if she managed to get on stage without barfing. I was supposed to be guitar on Mitzi's first number—I know she was leaning on me for this and I hate that I let her down. She's gotta be mad—she still hasn't responded to any of my texts.

I just hope Miss Burgess hasn't noticed that I'm not there and cut our band. I texted Dave and Reece and told them I was on my way, but who knows if they passed that info along.

I slam through the front doors and hurry past the ticket table to get backstage. "Wait!" says a woman who looks like a soccer mom. "You need a ticket!"

"I'm in the show!" I call back to her, not stopping. I race down the side hallway.

There's a bunch of people milling around further down, near the backstage doors and the music room. Ryker is sitting there, playing on his phone. "Hey!" I say, skidding to a stop. "Where is everybody?"

Ryker squints up at me, then shrugs.

"Like your brother. Do you know where your brother is?" I ask slowly, in case Ryker is high or something.

"He's playing," Ryker says. "I think."

I scan the crowd, looking for Mitzi or Dave or Reece. When I spot Miss Burgess, talking to a few of the band kids, I hurry over. "I'm here," I say breathlessly.

"Oh. Oz." Miss Burgess looks down at her clipboard. "Okay. We weren't sure where you were."

"My Gramps had to go to the hospital. But I'm ready for whatever." I know I was supposed to play guitar for three different songs, including Mitzi's.

"Well, I've already filled your spots during the solos. We're on song 23, so only five more until the student bands."

Aside from Mitzi's song, I wasn't really excited by any of the song choices, so that's no big loss. "Oh, okay. I'll just go warm up then."

Instead of heading straight for my guitar, though, I have a second thought, and make my way through the crowd to the girls' bathroom. I knock on the door, then crack it open. "Mitzi?" I call.

Her face appears in the crack. I was expecting a hot mess—instead, she's grinning and covered in a sheen of sweat. "Hi," she says.

I open the door so she can come out.