Charged (Electric) Page 4

  Before I know it we are back in the yard meeting Mason. He looks great, and before I forget, I toss him the bug spray. He shrugs and sprays himself down, before handing it back to me. We pile into Brie’s mom’s car, and I have to admit, I’m getting excited. I’m going to my birthday party, with my best friend and my boyfriend. Life is pretty sweet.

  As we approach Brie’s uncle’s lake house, I see confirmation of my suspicions. Brie has definitely gone all out. Uncle Joe’s house is impressive by itself, but add the dance floor, the band, food and lighting and it’s phenomenal. The downstairs kitchen and sitting room opens directly to the stone patio where all the action is. We park and are greeted by the man himself. He engulfs me in one of his bear-hugs.

  “Happy Birthday, Kat!” He booms, and then holds me at an arm’s length, as though appraising me. “You don’t look any older.”

  I laugh. “Thanks, Uncle Joe, I guess I don’t really feel any older, either.”

  Brie clears her throat. “Uncle Joe, this is Mason, Kat’s boyfriend.”

  I’m torn at this. I’m thrilled to hear Mason addressed as my boyfriend for the first time out loud, but also a little nervous at Uncle Joe’s reaction to it. If Brie’s protective of me, Uncle Joe could be deemed ferocious. Since he’s been watching Brie and I since we were in diapers, he feels every bit as responsible for me as he does for her. I give Brie a wide eyed look, and she winks at me.

  Mason steps forward, with his hand extended, “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Uncle Joe laughs loudly, as he shakes Mason’s hand. “Nice to meet you, but none of this ‘sir’ business, my father was ‘sir’. Joe is fine.”

  Mason laughs, “Sure thing, Joe.”

  I turn to Brie. “What time is everyone supposed to show?”

  She glances at her phone. “The band should be here to warm up any minute. I let them set up this afternoon to save time. Everyone else’s invite said to show in a half hour.”

  That means anytime now, in a town like ours. Uncle Joe makes sure we are settled, before he points to the downstairs sitting room. He gives Brie and I a significant look. “I’ll be there, if you need me.” We nod our understanding as the first car pulls in.

  It turns out to be the band. They jump right into sound checks and practicing. Before they finish one song, two more cars have arrived. I wonder if Kiera and her clique will show. They hate me, but they’re attention whores, so I doubt they’ll miss it.

  I’m obviously not the only one impressed with Brie’s handiwork. People begin to arrive, they ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ over her decorations, and dance along with the band. After a half hour, the place is packed, and everyone, myself included, appears to be having a great time. My happy bubble deflates a little, when Kiera and her friends walk up. They ignore us, rude as ever, and fall into their usual crowd. If I had to choose between being ignored, and a confrontation, I suppose I’ll take ignored any day. Although, I still manage to catch the nasty look Kiera throws my way.

  Brie falls into the role of hostess flawlessly. Adamantly refusing any help from me, she oversees things I never would have thought of, ensuring that the party carries on seamlessly. It doesn’t surprise me because when Brie does something, she goes all out. Mason drags me to the dance floor, and we get lost in the music, making it easy to forget about Kiera and feeling guilty for not being more help to Brie.

  After a short time, Brie is tapping on my shoulder. We follow her to the patio, and as we pass the drink table I grab a bottle of water. I take a swig and pass it to Mason. “Did you finally figure out what I can help you with?” I tease Brie.

  She grins mischievously, and I know I’m going to regret asking. “Kat,” she says in a sing-song voice, “I checked with the band. During their next break, we’re up for a few songs.”

  I recognize the familiar wave of anxiety that always washes over me when I know I’m going to perform, the rush of endorphins and adrenalin. I love the music, and unfortunately, performing it is part of the package. It’s much different in front of a crowd than it is in Brie’s garage. My trick is not to think about it until the last possible second. Then, don’t think at all.

  Chapter Three

  I give the guitar a strum, getting a feel for it. A tiny squeak of feedback tears through the speakers as I adjust the microphone to my height. Behind me, Brie gives the drums a spin. She taps out the beat to our first song, and instincts take over. We get through three songs without incident. When we’re done, I’m surprised by the cheers in the crowd.

  The band playing the party made their way to the edge of the make-shift stage as we played. He pulls Brie aside, but I can’t hear over the noise. Mason picks me up in a bear hug, spinning me around. “You guys rocked it!” He has to yell in my ear.

  “Thanks!” I yell back. I motion that I need a drink, so he pulls me through the crowd towards the patio.

  Brie comes rushing over as I chug a bottle of water. “They want us to try opening for them at their next show next weekend. What do you say?”

  I feel a slight twinge of guilt for going behind our manager’s back, but this is far too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Definitely!” I grin.

  Brie takes off excitedly, to give our confirmation to the band. Mason gives my hand a tug. “Let’s go enjoy the rest of your party.” I follow him back out to the dance floor.

  “You know it was a good party when the mess after it is this bad.” Brie only half-complains, I can tell she’s thrilled with how it turned out.

  Mason pipes in, “Isn’t there some kind of rule against cleaning up after your own birthday party?” He shoots a look at the garbage in my hands, destined for the bag at his feet. “Shouldn’t you go sit down or something?”

  I give him a wry smile. “Actually, I think the rule is you can’t not help clean up, when your best friend throws you the best party ever.” Brie grins.

  “Yup,” She looks at Mason. “And this is how we roll, so you better get used to it.”

  “Okay, okay,” Mason grabs another round of garbage. “I’m no fool. I can see when I’m outnumbered. And your right, Kat, I was looking at it from the wrong angle, I guess.”

  “No worries,” I tell him.

  “Yeah, we take some getting used to.” Brie adds, jokingly.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Uncle Joe pipes in. “Listen, why don’t you guys leave this and come back tomorrow to finish. It’s late.”

  Brie eyes her uncle, “Is this so you can go to sleep, or so we can.”

  Uncle Joe looks a little sheepish. “So I can get to bed.” He admits. “I can’t party like I used to. I’m whooped.”

  “Fine, fine:” Brie tells him. “We’ll let the old man go to bed.” She softens the insult with a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks again, Uncle Joe. We’ll be back early tomorrow afternoon to finish.”

  I give him a kiss on the cheek, too. “Thanks for the venue, Uncle Joe. It rocked.”

  “Yeah, thanks. And it was nice meeting you.” Mason shakes his hand.

  “You, too.” Uncle Joe walks us to the car. “Stay out of trouble, ya hear.”

  We all agree at once, and begin the trek back home. I’m spending the night at Brie’s, so we drop Mason off at his house. Brie tolerates our parting kiss for a few minutes, before she starts making gagging noises. I promise to text Mason when we get to Brie’s before we go. Brie turns the music on, but not loud enough to be obnoxious during this early morning hour.

  When we get to Brie’s, we crash. I wake in the morning to find Brie still snoring gently. I quietly make my way to the bathroom, giving Brie’s mom’s room a wide berth. I’m in no mood for freaky porcelain clowns, thank you. I make it safely back to Brie’s room, without any clown incidents.

  Grabbing my phone, there’s no new texts, so Mason must still be sleeping, too. I grab my bag and bravely make my way back to the bathroom. I may as well take a shower while I’m waiting. When I’m done, I wake up Brie and text Mason. We still have a lot of cleaning up to do at Uncle Joe’s. I
head to the kitchen to start breakfast, knowing from years of experience to stay out of Brie’s way for at least a half-hour.

  Sure enough, I begin to hear movement from the direction of Brie’s room. I start some coffee and fry up some bacon and eggs. By the time I’m done Brie has stumbled in. She makes herself a cup of coffee and then looks at me. “Good morning.” She’s still grumpy.

  I smile. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  She sticks her tongue out at me. “You’re all dressed and everything, huh? You could’ve woke me.”

  I give her a level look.

  “Okay, maybe not.” She concedes. “I guess you know better by now.”

  “You think?” I smirk at her. “I like all of my extremities, thanks.” This at least gets a chuckle, before she digs into her bacon and eggs. I glance at the clock. “What time are we going for clean-up duty?”

  She shrugs. “Soon, I don’t want to be doing it all day.” I nod, busy chewing my own food. “What do you want to do tonight?”

  “We have school tomorrow.” I remind her, “So nothing too outrageous.”

  “How about a movie?”

  I grin. We both love the same movies, so I know her answer before I even ask the question, “The new zombie movie?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she grins back, and then sighs. “And you might as well call Mason. I know you’re dying to. Tell him about tonight, too.”

  “You are a really great best friend, you know that?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Monday morning Brie and I find that the entire junior and senior classes are still raving about our party. I’m hoping this dies down soon. By Wednesday, the news that we are performing this weekend with the band from my party has made its way through the school. I’m glad for the publicity, but as per my usual MO, I try to push it to the back of my mind. No easy feat when someone brings it up every thirty seconds. Brie is just plain ecstatic, about both the show and the hype it’s getting, and Mason is really excited for us.

  Friday night finds us unloading Brie’s mom’s station wagon, again. I had gotten my permit on Monday after school, but my car is still off limits until I’m fully licensed. We could never fit all of our equipment into it anyway, I suppose.

  Mason makes our setup so much easier than usual. Even Brie is impressed with his dedication to our little band. So far, all of my fears about having the two of them not getting along have gone unfounded. It makes me happy that they get along so well.

  I try not to think about having my mom meet Mason. I’ve already told her all about him, and vice-versa. I’ve also begged her not to embarrass me. She promised to try, so we are having an official meet the mom Sunday dinner. I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Hopefully, she does not get into her whole ‘you fell for the boy next door’ spiel. I’ve been hearing it all week.

  I force myself back to the present. The almost too hip, but not, coffee shop has a nice vibe. Brie is busy with her wires, while I tune my guitar. We’re up first, and the place is packed. I’m surprised that so many of our classmates turned out. It makes me feel good, until I spot Kiera’s group. I don’t know why they came, except maybe hoping we screw up, so they can never let us live it down.

  I see the manager and Brie talking. She holds up her hand, indicating we have five minutes. Mason gives me a quick kiss for good luck, then makes his way to the front of the little stage. Brie gives me a thumbs up before settling behind her drums. I know this means we’re wired, completely live. I take a deep breath, and wait for her to start.

  Mason suddenly is next to me again, and trades me an acoustic guitar for my electric one. I shoot Brie a dirty look. They don’t play fair. I know this means we’re leading with our slow song. She just shrugs, and Mason has disappeared. No doubt they planned this.

  Brie taps out the beat, and I know I either have to start singing or throw a fit. I decide to sing, plucking and strumming the guitar, enjoying the softness of it with the song. As I hit the last bar, I cringe inwardly, waiting for the crowd’s reaction. It takes a second, but then they roar in applause. I smile. I can’t help it.

  Mason is back, with my electric guitar, and he looks a little sheepish as he trades me back. Shaking my head minutely, I smile so he knows we’re good.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kiera and Shelby walking out from the backstage area, on the side of the stage. No doubt that they had lost all hope of us embarrassing ourselves, and decided to go flirt with the other band. I turn my attention back to the crowd, no time to wonder what they’re up to now, and focus as Brie begins the fast, complicated beat to our next song.

  As I strike the first chord, I hear something is off. Before I can put my finger on it, I hit the next chord, and suddenly I’m flying through the air, my body pulsating. That’s what it is. Someone must have plugged my guitar into the wrong amp. When I hit the powerful chord, the amp blew up. This thought is cut off by my harsh impact with first the wall, then the stage floor.

  I still feel electricity pulsing through me. It’s painful, but mostly I wonder how I’m still conscious. I will never make jokes about an electric chair again, not that I ever have before. Through the pain, I see Mason being held back by the manager. He’s trying to help me, but with the electricity still coursing through me, it’s too dangerous. Brie’s just sitting up on the floor, a few feet from me, dazed after being thrown by the explosion. She looks at me, realizes what’s happening, and takes off towards the equipment. A few seconds later, the pain and electricity mercifully stop. I just sit there, unable to move for a moment, before I rip the smoldering guitar strap from my head and throw what’s left of my beloved guitar on the ground next to me, like a venomous snake.

  “Kat!” The manager releases Mason, and he’s by my side in seconds. “Are you alright?”

  “Kat,” Brie is right behind him. “Omigod, are you okay?”

  My head is fuzzy, like an old TV that needs to be smacked. I nod, unable to articulate anything else.

  The manager runs over. “I’ve called 911, an ambulance is on its way.” He looks down at me. “You probably shouldn’t move until they get here.”

  I nod again. The fuzziness is making it hard to focus. For a second, I note that the place is now empty, but then I’m distracted as the fuzz begins to dissipate into a tingling, that’s running all over my body.

  It’s not a completely comfortable feeling, but it’s not quite painful either. Mostly, it’s just annoying, but I’ll take it, because my head feels better, and now I can think and focus. Sort of.

  The first question that pops into my mind is directed at Brie. “What the hell happened?”

  “Some idiot switched the cords from your amp to the bass amp from the other band. It blew when it couldn’t take it.” Brie explains.

  Mason looks pissed. I’ve never seen him pissed off before. It’s kind of hot. Oh yeah, I shake my head, trying to focus. “Was it an accident, or intentional?” Mason asks her.

  “It could have been either.” Brie frowns, and looks at me again. “Are you okay? She repeats.

  Both of them look at me intently. “I think so.” I answer. “I feel really weird.”

  They share a look. Before I can ask them what it was for, an EMT rushes in. The next hour is chaos. Brie, Mason and the manger explain what happened to the police that have arrived. I insist Brie gets checked out too, since she was also onstage when it happened, and then I’m stuck playing twenty questions with my own EMT. They take us to the hospital, Brie in her own ambulance, and Mason somehow manages to convince the EMT to let him ride in mine. I had to call my mom to meet us there. She’s freaking out. Brie makes the manager promise to lock all of our equipment in his office for the night. My body still tingles.

  The emergency room isn’t very private, with curtains separating the beds. I have Mason pull all the curtains except the ones between my bed and Brie’s, so we’re all together. I can tell when our moms arrive, almost simultaneously, by the flurry of activity they create.

  They d
o their concerned mom thing. When my mom calms down, I introduce her and Mason. If anything good came from this, at least she’s too distracted to embarrass me. They hook me up to a ton of machines. I can’t help but notice that Brie is machine free. I frown at this.

  Before I have a chance to say anything about it, the ER doctor makes his way over to us. It’s not until he pulls my mom aside that I really start to worry. This can’t be good.

  The doctor and my mom come back, but he focuses his attention on Brie. “We’re going to release you. Other than some minor bumps and bruises, you were very lucky. Take it easy for a couple of days, you’ll probably feel worse tomorrow than you do now.” He continues on with some more instructions, before he turns his attention to me. “Katarina,” I cringe at my full name, “you are going to be our guest tonight. We want to keep you for observation. You took quite a jolt of electricity and we want to be sure there won’t be any residual effects.”

  I can feel the pout on my face. Sure, I’m tingly, but I’m fine and I just want to go home. My mom is on it before a complaint can leave my lips. “It’s just for one night, Kat. I can stay with you if you want.”

  Mason chimes in. “Or I can. I already called my mom. She says to feel better.”

  My mom’s eyebrows shoot way up. I give her a level look. It’s not like we’d be unsupervised, what with all the doctors, nurses-her coworkers no less. She must realize this also, because, to my surprise, she answers quickly. “I guess that’s alright. I’ll be back in the morning?”

  My head is answering yes before my mouth can. “Love you, mom.”

  She kisses my head. “Love you, too, Kat. Call me if you need anything.” She gives Brie and her mom a hug, before saying goodbye. I see her stop and talk with the doctor again. Obviously satisfied, she gives one more wave, then leaves.

  Brie stays until they move me up to my room. I promise to call her first thing in the morning. She looks a little guilty, leaving without me.