Rocky Road

  Rocky Road

  Summer Road Trip

  Written by Melanie Doweiko

  Copyright © 2018 by Abdo Consulting Group, Inc.

  Published by EPIC Press™

  PO Box 398166

  Minneapolis, MN 55439

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  International copyrights reserved in all countries.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without

  written permission from the publisher. EPIC Press™ is trademark

  and logo of Abdo Consulting Group, Inc.

  Cover design by Christina Doffing

  Images for cover art obtained from iStock

  Edited by Rue Moran

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Names: Doweiko, Melanie, author.

  Title: Rocky road/ by Melanie Doweiko

  Description: Minneapolis, MN : EPIC Press, 2018 | Series: Summer road trip

  Summary: High school bandmates Shawna, Rev, and Cass are offered their very first gig. The only problem is, it’s two states away and they can’t get their parents on board. So they do what any rock-’n’-roll band would: sneak out! As they race against time—and the punishment that’s sure to come after them—they find that life on the road is much stranger than they’d imagined.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2016962616 | ISBN 9781680767247 (lib. bdg.)

  | ISBN 9781680767803 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Adventure stories—Fiction. | Travel—Fiction.

  | Garage rock music—Fiction. | Parent and teenager—Fiction | Young adult fiction.

  Classification: DDC [FIC]—dc23

  LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2016962616

  This digital document has been produced by Nord Compo.

  For my mom, who would totally have done this if she had been in a band as a teenager

  THE GUITAR SINGS AND SHAWNA SINGS ALONG WITH it. She feels her heart beating to the rhythm Cass is banging out. There are lights, there are people, there’s a microphone in her hand that didn’t come from a thrift store. She’s on a stage—a real stage!—singing Rev’s lyrics about running away.

  Well, it’s sort of a real stage. It was erected last night: a bunch of crates with a fancy top. And only some of the people are listening. Most of them are milling about the other attractions of the fair. And the lights were only turned on because it was starting to get dark.

  Shawna can’t say that she’s disappointed. It’s an improvement over her garage. They have actual exposure here. Anyone might be listening! Who knows who had shown up at the fair today, expecting to just be contributing to the fight against breast cancer (Never Forget Nina Clarke), only to be blown away by the magnificence of the Beauty School Dropouts?

  As Shawna sings, her mind wanders to what recognition might get her and her band. Fame! Money! Fans! Everything a teenager could ever want. She knows what Rev is going to say: “It’s not realistic, Shawna. Stop daydreaming up impossible scenarios. You’re only setting yourself up for disappointment.”

  Well, phooey to that! Rev said that when Shawna suggested the idea for a band, too, and look at them now! Rev didn’t even know how to play guitar back then. Without Shawna’s help, Rev wouldn’t be up here right now, and her songs would still just be poems and tunes she hummed softly to herself, so Shawna will set herself up for as much disappointment as she pleases. It keeps her working, keeps her wanting to achieve a goal. Imagining that things are impossible only makes her feel like she’s already been defeated.

  She finishes the song to a smattering of applause and the band leaves the stage. They’re set to do a few more songs, later, but they’ve earned a dinner break. Free food! That was the best they were going to get for a charity gig, but Shawna doesn’t mind. Neither does Cass. Free food always tastes better in their books. Rev usually says that it’s all in their heads. Cass usually takes that time to make some kind of rude hand gesture at her.

  “I think they like us!” Shawna says, patting her dark, kinky hair to make sure everything is still where it’s supposed to be and taking a long drink of water.

  “Hardly anyone was really listening,” Rev says, tossing a can of soda between her hands.

  “Who cares?” Cass says, taking a bite out of a powdered-sugar-coated funnel cake. “At least we got out of that stupid garage.”

  “Hey! Respect the garage,” Shawna says, pointing at Cass with her water bottle. “A lot of really famous bands started in garages! We’re a part of a long, noble tradition.”

  “And a lot of bands never got out of those garages,” Rev points out.

  “There, like I said!” Cass says, mouth full. “Glad we got out of that stupid garage. It smells like dog crap and that step is hard to wheel over.”

  Shawna rolls her eyes. It seems as if the duty of “dreamer” has, once again, fallen to her. “Ugh, you guys aren’t getting it,” she says, “and we put a plank over that thing for you.”

  Cass gives her a flat look. They all know it’s not sufficient, but it’s the best that they have. At least the stage, today, is wheelchair accessible.

  Mrs. Johnson walks up to them. After hearing about them from her son, Timothy, she negotiated with their parents to let the BSDs play at the fair.

  “Yeah, they’re in a band or whatever,” Timothy probably said, not looking up from his text conversation with his latest girlfriend. Even the teachers couldn’t get that boy off his phone.

  “Hey, girls!” Mrs. Johnson says. Cass rolls her eyes. “How’s everything going? Good? Need anything?”

  “We’re good, Mrs. Johnson,” Shawna says, matching the woman’s smile, knowing that she cares, that she’s trying. She got the BSDs a stage, at least. Shawna can’t fault her for much after that.

  “I could go for one of those hot dogs, over there,” Cass says, intentionally choosing the farthest vendor from where they are sitting.

  “You got it, sweetie!” Mrs. Johnson says, a flash of pity in her eyes. Shawna knows how much Cass likes to push the limits of people’s pity, so she pinches Cass’s arm before she can open her mouth to do so.

  “You girls keep up all the good work!” Mrs. Johnson says as she walks away, giving the band a double thumbs-up. “We appreciate you!”

  When Mrs. Johnson turns away, Cass punches Shawna in the arm.

  “Ow!” Shawna says, rubbing it. For as small and scrawny as Cass is, she hits hard.

  “The heck was that for?” Cass asks.

  “Oh, come on, she knows how you get,” Rev says.

  “I have every right!” Cass says, folding her arms.

  “We know, Cass, but that woman did us a favor,” Shawna says. “We can’t just be rude to her.”

  “If bein’ in a band means kissin’ up, I don’t wanna be a part of it,” Cass grumbles.

  “Door’s open,” Rev mumbles into her soda can. She was against inviting Cass into the band in the beginning, insisting to Shawna that it was “their thing.” But Cass is an amazing drummer and Shawna trusts her instincts. Besides, both Rev and Cass needed more friends. What better way to hit two birds with one stone?

  “What did you just say, you . . . ?!” Cass says, only to be interrupted by Shawna coming between them, slinging an arm across both of their shoulders, an awkward arrangement considering how tall Rev is and how much shorter the chair makes Cass.

  “Hey! Kiddos,” Shawna says, “let’s look at the positives here: We got our first gig! And we got paid!” She glances at the funnel cake still sitting in Cass’s lap. “Technically.”

  Rev and Cass follow her gaze to the funnel cake. With a small smile, Cass shrugs and stuffs her face with another piece of it.

  “Better than nothing,” Cass mumbles through a
mouthful of fried dough, a puff of powdered sugar coming out with the words.

  “Yeah,” Rev mutters, looking away and tucking her short, brown hair behind her ear, “better than nothing.”

  In the near distance, a girl comes tripping towards them at full speed. Shawna squints. “Is that Junie?” she asks.

  “Didn’t she say she wasn’t coming?” Rev asks.

  “Well, yeah, but she said it in that way that meant she was coming, you know?” Shawna says.

  Rev’s brow furrows. “No . . . ”

  “That girl needs some dance lessons or gymnastics training or something,” Cass says, watching her with amusement. “I’m more graceful on my feet than she is.”

  “You guys!” Junie is shouting. “Oh my Go—osh you guys!”

  As much as Junie isn’t able to catch herself physically, she still manages to keep herself from taking the Lord’s name in vain in front of a large group of Good, Church-Going Christian Parents. Shawna is impressed.

  Still, Junie nearly face-plants as she gets to them. Shawna manages to catch her before that happens.

  “Hey, Junie,” Shawna says, helping her back to her feet. “You seem excited.”

  “Well, duh, I’m excited!” Junie says. She’s a burst of energy in too small of a container, or perhaps one that’s too lanky. Her attempts to assist Shawna in her efforts to get her back to her feet only make Shawna’s job harder as she flails or overreaches. It’s like trying to hold onto a puppy that’s seen a ball fly past or a toddler who wants to escape. A very tall puppy or toddler.

  When Junie’s finally stabilized, she begins to bounce. “Oooh, you guys! My aunt is here!” she says.

  “Which one?” all three band members say in unison. Junie’s father has seven sisters and Junie speaks of each and every one of them intimately.

  “Elle!” Junie says. “My auntie Elle! She owns a club called the Angry Whirlpool a couple states away and oooh, my gosh you guys!” She giggles and bounces some more.

  “Out with it, already, girl!” Cass says. “You’re killing us with this suspense.”

  “She likes you guys!” Junie says. “She really, really likes you! She likes you so much, she wants you to play at her club!”

  Silence reigns among the girls as they process what they’ve just been told.

  “Dang,” Cass says.

  Shawna couldn’t have put it better herself. The first time they manage to get out of the garage and play for a crowd, they get offered a gig on a slightly more real stage with people who would actually be listening rather than milling about. She covers her mouth to keep herself from screaming, a face-splitting smile growing beneath her hands.

  “You guys, it’s going places! You could actually be going places! I told you! I always said you were awesome! I told you!” Junie’s bounce speed has increased tenfold, the only outlet for her excited energy.

  “You’ve always called us losers, though,” Rev says, her expression difficult to read. She must still be processing things. It’s quite a shock and it’s happening so fast that even Shawna’s head is reeling with giddiness. If things keep going like this, the Beauty School Dropouts will be famous within the next year!

  Junie springs over to hug Rev. “Because you are! In the best way! You’re the most winning losers on the planet!”

  The statement makes no sense, but the sentiment does. Shawna allows herself a little squeal and joins the hug. Cass laughs and pats her back. For all Cass’s talk of quitting, she sure seems excited.

  Rev’s memo to be excited must have been lost in the mail, though. “You said that club your aunt owns is a couple of states away, right?” she asks.

  “Yeah, so?” Junie asks.

  “How are we even going to get there?”

  “I got a van,” Cass says, “one o’ them big, ol’ wheelchair vans. And since this baby folds up,” she pats the chair she’s sitting in, “we’ll have plenty of room for all our instruments and junk!”

  Shawna turns and high-fives Cass.

  “Okay, but what about our parents?” Rev says, breaking away from Junie’s hug.

  “What about our parents?” Cass says, rolling her eyes.

  “They’re never gonna let us do this,” Rev says.

  “You’re really killing the mood, here, Rev,” Cass says, her excited smile moving towards an annoyed frown.

  “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Shawna says, not sure. Their parents allowed them to form this band, were supportive enough, but they always looked on it as a kind of phase. All three of the band members knew this. It was something about their tone of voice when they talked about the band, something about the way they kept suggesting other activities.

  But Shawna doesn’t want to think about that right now. She wants to bask in the joy of the opportunity, she wants to dream.

  “No, these are things that we need to think about!” Rev says, pacing now. “We can’t get ourselves all worked up over something that we might not even be allowed to do. Where is this club of your aunt’s anyway?”

  “Indiana,” Junie says, a little sheepishly.

  “Indiana. That’s . . . ” Rev pauses, doing calculations in her head, “a two-day drive! At least. Do you really think that our parents are going to let us do that? At all? I’ve never even been out of this state.”

  “Just because you’re boring . . . ” Cass mutters.

  “Okay, okay, let’s all just calm down,” Shawna says. She hates to admit it, hates to kill the vibe, but Rev is right. This is a pretty big deal. It’s something they need to think about. Rev is pacing. Cass is leaning her cheek on her fist. Junie is fidgeting.

  “We’ll all talk to our parents about this when we get home tonight,” Shawna says, then holds up a hand when she sees Cass’s smirk. “But! We’re going to have to agree on what we’re going to tell them.” Cass’s expression turns bored again.

  Cass might be the tipping point of this operation, always picking fights with her parents. On some level, Shawna can understand, but this is not the time. This is a time for careful planning and delicate nudging. Shawna looks around at her bandmates: Rev is a nervous wreck, Cass is vindictive, and Shawna, herself, is overenthusiastic and insistent.

  They’re screwed, but Shawna refuses to give up. This could be their shot! She pulls her bandmates and Junie together, and they plot.

  “NO,” SHAWNA’S DAD SAYS.

  She expected this. She had planned for this. “But don’t you love and support me? No matter what I choose to do?” Shawna says, calling upon her best puppy dog eyes and aiming them in the direction of her Papa. A softer man than his husband, he had been the one to help her clean out the garage when she said that she was starting a band.

  “Of course we do,” her Papa says, putting a hand over hers. “But . . . your father’s right.”

  Her Dad nods, gruff expression saying Yes, of course I am. “No means no,” he says and turns back to scraping cheese off of a dish.

  “But, Papa, please!” Shawna continues to focus on her more lenient parent, hoping that she can break him. That’s what she was counting on back when she made this plan with her bandmates. There are crocodile tears in her eyes. Well, they’re crocodile tears for the most part. She might actually cry if she’s not allowed to go, and Shawna makes a point to never cry. She can see her Papa’s lip trembling. She’s got him right where she wants him, she just needs to go in for the kill. She squeezes his hand and looks him in the eye.

  “It’s really important to me,” she says. Her Papa lets out a small, indecisive noise and looks to her Dad. They all know that her Papa can’t stand up to this kind of onslaught.

  Her Dad sighs and walks over to the table. “Shawna,” he says, “we love you, and it’s because we love you that we don’t want you doing this.”

  “But—!”

  Her Dad holds up a hand to stop her from going on. “You’re sixteen. You need to be focusing on school.”

  “School’s not even in—!”

  “Sha
wna,” he interrupts, sterner this time, “let me finish. You’re not old enough to run off to some club three states away. You’re not even old enough to be in a club! Much less play in one. What if something happens?”

  “You could come with.” Shawna didn’t want to suggest this. It’s a last-ditch effort. If her parents go, everyone’s parents will want to go. Rev’s mom is untrustworthy and Cass’s parents are overprotective.

  Oh, they’re so screwed.

  “We would love to!” her Papa says. “But we have work.”

  “And we can’t just cancel on such short notice,” her Dad continues. “Speaking of, what kind of gig gives you such a short time frame? Sounds suspicious to me.”

  “It’s Junie’s aunt,” Shawna says. “I trust Junie! You guys trust Junie. She’s great.”

  “She is a great kid,” her Papa says.

  “Yes, but what do we know about her aunt? I’ve never met her. Your Papa’s never met her. You probably only met her last night!”

  He’s got her there. She didn’t even meet the woman last night, but Junie talks about her family so much she feels like she already knows them.

  “The answer is no, Shawna,” her Dad says. “That’s final. Get it through your head.”

  Shawna shoves her chair away from the table and storms up to her room. She hears her Papa’s shout of “We love you, honey!” follow her before she slams the door and collapses onto her bed. She screams into her pillow and takes a few moments to keep herself from crying.

  This is the Beauty School Dropouts’ opportunity! Their chance to reach a larger audience! To get their voices heard and to do what they love and have been dreaming of! Why can’t her dads see that? What is so important about school if her band is able to make it big? Why are they so worried? She’s sixteen! She can handle herself. She keeps Rev and Cass from tearing each other’s throats out on a daily basis! She’d be able to handle a little trip across state lines.

  She wonders if the others are faring any better. They promised that they would contact each other once they had spoken to their parents. Shawna takes out her phone and texts their group chat.