Trophy Child (On Hold)

Chapter 12

"Thanks, Dad!" Eric called as he climbed out of the car. 

Naturally, being the lanky dork that he was, he tripped over the curb and went sprawling. His dad, Benny, and I all laughed instead of checking on him. We knew it was fine though, because instead of screaming in agony or whatever, he just scrambled up and glared at all of us.

"Are you planning on proposing to the sidewalk?" Mr. McDermott asked.

"Dad, don't," Eric said with a horror stricken look on his face," I swear I'll disown you."

"Because it looks like you fell for her pretty hard," he finished, cracking up at his own joke.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Eric's dad? The guy is hilarious. I probably would have been down for letting him take his son's place in the band if he asked. No offense to Eric.

"If I didn't need a ride home, I'd be saying terrible things about you. Just know that."

"How long do you kids think you'll be?" Mr. McDermott asked. "Because if it won't be too long, I can just wait here. Of course, I could always just go in with you too."

"No. Absolutely not," Eric said firmly. "You can wait here though, if you want. I don't think it'll take too long. We just need to fill out some papers or whatever."

The competition guidelines required that all band members be present in order to sign up. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I guess it probably weeded out the flakes and gave the judges a glimpse of what they had in store.

"Sure thing, kiddo."

He rolled his eyes, but anyone could tell that he was fighting off a smile. Eric liked to whine about his dad being embarrassing, but that underlying affection was always there. The two were undeniably close. 

"We'll be right back," he promised Mr. McDermott.

We made our way inside and straight to the registration table. The room was full of hopeful teenagers and twenty-something-year-olds. It almost reminded me of the talent show auditions. 

It wasn't long after we got the stack of paperwork that we heard someone call out to us from across the room.

"Well, look who it is."

Phil and his band walked over and stopped in front of us. We all stared each other down, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before one of us exploded. Phil was giving me that obnoxious smirk he'd been using so much lately, and Dylan sent a nod and a wink Benny's way. I was ready for a fight. 

Eric, to his credit, tried his best to lighten the mood.

"Hey, Phil. What's up?" He asked. 

"We were just signing up for the band competition," Phil replied before adding," that doesn't really explain why you're here though." 

"What do you mean? We're here for the same thing," Eric said with a confused frown.

"He means that the contest is for real bands, and you should just go home before you embarrass yourselves again," one of the other guys said. 

I think his name was Devon. I had a class or two with him for sure.

"Last I checked, your lead singer there embarrassed himself pretty badly too," I shot back.

Eric stepped up between the two groups and smiled. "Come on, guys, chill. No need to start the next world war. What do you say we call a truce for now?" he asked.

"Eric, just leave it," Benny said, his shoulders tense.

"We're just trying to save you guys the humiliation. Besides, you only have two guys. That's not even a band," Devon explained.