3

Watching the Bottom Fall

Sawyer stood at the kitchen sink and scrubbed a dirty plate. A drum solo blasted through his earbuds begging him to join in. He lifted his hands out of the sink and played the air drums, soap suds spraying the tiny kitchen. Skills with the sticks was the only thing Sawyer’s dad had left behind seventeen years ago.

He only knew three things about his dad: his name was Toby Sawyer, he was a drummer, and he couldn’t handle having a kid. But someday, Toby Sawyer would see the name ‘Sawyer Mahon’ listed as a band’s drummer. Then he’d call or email, and Sawyer would tell him off. Sawyer and his mom hadn’t needed—would never need—Toby Sawyer in their lives.

The drum solo ended, and Sawyer plunged his hands into the soapy water.

Someone tapped his shoulder.

Sawyer spun around, swearing and ripping the earbuds out of his ears.

“Don’t say that.” Justin gave his usual response.

“Don’t go sneaking up on people.”

“I knocked. You didn’t answer.”

Not much argument for that. Except to remember to lock the door.

Sawyer faced the sink and swiped the dishcloth over a dinner plate.

“Doing chores?” Justin asked.

“Just washing dishes.” At Sawyer’s, no one made a chore list. He and Mom just did what needed to be done. They took care of each other. Sawyer yanked the drain plug and led Justin the five feet into the living room. “You talk to Zoey?”

“Yeah.” Justin flopped onto the couch. “She’s filling in on lead vocals for this band—Aurora Fire—and she had practice with them tonight.”

“She’s ditching us?” Sawyer’s disbelief rose from his gut. He leaned against the edge of his living room window and stared at Justin.

“Not exactly.” Justin stretched his arms across the back of the floral couch, calm and chill. As if he hadn’t just found out their band was screwed.

This news stank as bad as the still-present stench of his microwaved burrito dinner. When Zoey hadn’t shown up earlier, Sawyer figured she had some stupid girl reason. Like dying her hair or painting her nails or cramps. Not that Zoey ever skipped practice for a stupid girl reason—that’s why she was the only girl besides his mom he could stand to be around for more than five minutes—but she was still a girl. And girls were annoying, frustrating, and unpredictable.

Sawyer hammered his fists against the wall. This was why band members shouldn’t date. They worried more about each other’s feelings than about the music. He swore.

“Don’t say that.”

Sawyer ignored Justin and stepped away from the window. Heat bubbled inside him like lava. How could Justin just sit there? It was his band too, and his girlfriend who was ditching them. Sawyer kicked a leg of the scarred coffee table. A dumpster rescue like most of the furniture, it wasn’t hurt by a little abuse.

“It’s just for the summer,” Justin said.

Sawyer plopped down on the red chair that matched the couch only in shabbiness. “Just the summer? Summer’s our best time. We can practice all day long.”

“And Zoey can still practice with us, when she’s free.”

“What about next Saturday?” He narrowed his eyes already suspecting the answer. “Will she be playing with us?”

“No.” The confidence in Justin’s voice faded. “Her first concert with Aurora Fire is that night.”

“Right. We finally get a chance to play in public, and we have to cancel.”

“We don’t have to cancel. We can play without her.”

“Seriously?” Sawyer tapped his heels against the faded beige carpet. Every muscle twitched, as if he’d been binge drinking caffeine supplements.

“Why not?”

“Because she’s our vocalist.” An instrumental riff was one thing, but an entire set without lyrics would be lame. “We could replace her.”

Justin frowned. Finally, some negative emotion from the guy.

“Just for the summer.” Sawyer raised his voice in a mocking falsetto trying to push Justin over to the dark side. Way back in kindergarten, Justin had arranged search parties to hunt down the gold at the end of the rainbow, and he hadn’t grown out of believing in fairytales.

“Let it go, man. This can be good for us too.” Justin flipped a guitar pick across his knuckles.

“How? We’ll have more free time?”

“No. If people like Zoey, they’ll follow her back to us.”

“Sure they will.” Just another one of Justin’s fairytales. This year they’d be seniors. They needed this summer to play, to perform, to prove themselves as a band. If they failed, Justin and Zoey would be off to college. No one, including Mom, expected that of Sawyer. Drums were his only chance at a future. But what good was a drummer without a band?

“Have some faith. God will work things out for all of us.”

Sawyer pounded his heels a little faster. God, Justin’s never-gonna-do-anything-about-it solution.

Faith was as practical as hunting down the leprechaun’s gold.

To his left, the front door opened banging against a dining table chair.

Mom walked in, the sun glowing off her pale blonde hair. She wrestled her key out of the lock. “Hi, boys.” The key freed, she shut the door and sat in the corner of the couch opposite Justin.

Sawyer deepened his scowl.

“Hi, Lexi,” Justin said.

“What’s wrong?” She glanced back and forth between them. “You two look like your favorite band broke up.”

Yeah, that sounded about right. “Our band broke up.”

“We did not.” Justin’s voice was tight.

A tremor of pleasure ran through Sawyer at the cracking of Justin’s life-is-perfect attitude.

“What happened?” Mom’s concern eased the tension in Sawyer’s muscles. She cared about their band.

“Zoey quit.”

“Zoey?” She looked at Justin. “Your Zoey?”

“Do you know any other Zoeys, Mom?”

“She didn’t quit.” Justin sounded tired of repeating himself. “She’s just with another band for the summer.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows shot up like her voice.

At last, someone sounded surprised.

“Apparently, her loyalty doesn’t go very deep,” Sawyer muttered.

“It’s a good opportunity for her,” Justin spoke through clenched teeth.

About time he showed some annoyance, though it was probably directed at Sawyer, not Zoey.

“You’re a very good boyfriend.” Mom sounded wistful.

Sawyer rolled his eyes. Everybody loved Justin. The perfect son. The perfect student. The perfect boyfriend. Only because the guy could write music and shred a guitar did Sawyer stay friends with him. That and because Justin put up with all of Sawyer’s crap. The guy was the perfect friend too.

Mom glanced at the microwave clock a few feet away in the kitchen. “It’s almost midnight. You going home or staying the night, Justin?”

“Going.” Justin stood and looked at Sawyer. “Practice tomorrow?”

“After I get off work.” Bagging groceries cut into practice time, but he had to support his music and drumming habits.

“See ya later, then.” Justin let himself out.

“You don’t look very happy.” Mom directed her tired attention at Sawyer.

“Gold star.” Wasn’t as if he was trying to hide it. Sawyer drummed his fingers on the chair arms. “Zoey didn’t tell us about leaving or nothing. She just didn’t show.”

“I’m sorry.” She sounded more disappointed than Justin had.

“Yeah. Whatever.” He blew out a sigh.

“What are you working tomorrow?”

“Ten to four.”

“I don’t go in until one. I can walk or call Gina if you want to take the car.”

“Thanks.” Bagging groceries couldn’t pay for music, drums, and a car. Though apparently at Justin’s house, chores covered all three.

“I’m exhausted.” She stood, stretching and yawning. “Watch the clock and don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t.” At least, he wouldn’t intend to. With the barely-setting summer sun, he sometimes forgot to go to bed. Not smart if he had work the next day.

“’Night.” Mom headed to her room.

Sawyer moved to the couch and grabbed the remote. He jabbed a button. What would happen to their band? He didn’t want to answer that question. They could play without Zoey, right? He changed channels. Like a drummer and a guitarist without a vocalist would be a big hit.

They could replace Zoey, but finding someone with the musical talent and a voice like hers would be impossible.

He switched off the TV and went to his room. After turning on the stereo low enough not to bother Mom, he tried to clear his mind with push-ups. But the only thing that became clear was that Zoey had ditched them—him.

He’d make sure she realized her mistake and came back. Because without her, he didn’t have a band. And without a band, he had nothing.