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  Besides, we only have week to prepare for our first gig. We don’t have time to waste.

  ****

  “Dude, stop looking at that set list,” Aaron groaned from across the room. “You’re making us nervous too!”

  “You should be nervous,” I muttered. “You missed two rehearsals.”

  “Not my fault,” he replied. “It’s not like you live right down the street from me. Besides, I’ve been playing in front of people longer than you’ve been walking, asshole.”

  I ignored his jab and watched the catering company finish transforming our backyard into a tropical paradise, complete with sand, palm trees, and a stage for us to play on. It’s what Dee-Lee wanted.

  All morning Delilah was getting on my nerves. I’ve never seen a kid so excited about anything. When Paulie and Aaron got here I had to ban the little pest from the pool area where our stage was set up. We didn’t want to give anyone a preview of the show so we warmed up and ran through our set list without amplifiers.

  “I can’t believe we’ve been doing all of this, just to play for a bunch of twelve and thirteen year old girls,” Aaron griped while messing around on my computer.

  After I made sure everything was perfect for us outside, we came back into my room, just waiting for the party to start.

  Or hiding out, which more accurately described what we’re doing. Last time I checked, my mother was frantically putting anyone with two arms and two legs to work. We had not choice but to pull a disappearing act.

  “At least we get to play,” Paulie replied to Aaron. “Did you have something better to do today?”

  “Aiden!” Delilah burst into my room, her fluorescent pink bikini blazing like the sun.

  “What?”

  “They’re here! Mostly all of my friends are here!” she squealed. “Are you coming outside?”

  “Are you going to put something on over your bathing suit?” I glanced at the other two boys in the room gawking at my sister with wide eyes.

  “Yes,” Delilah giggled. “I’m going to have on shorts when I’m not in the pool.”

  “You’re not in the pool now,” I reminded her.

  “I know. I was just trying it on. It’s brand new!”

  “Well, it fits,” Aaron said. My fist instinctively punched him in the arm.

  “Dee-Lee, go! We’ll be down in a minute.” I pushed my little sister out of the room and slammed the door.

  “Don’t look at my sister like that!” I yelled.

  “When did Delilah get boobs?” Paulie asked. His expression mirrored mine…mortified.

  “I don’t fuckin’ know, man!”

  I’ve been so caught up in my own life that I’m missing my baby sister grow up. I’ve noticed slight changes in her over the summer but nothing as drastic as what we just witnessed. She’s going to be a problem.

  “We’ve got to do something,” Paulie said. “There are boys out there.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I answered. “How am I going to keep an eye on her and play?”

  “I can keep an eye on her too,” he volunteered.

  “She doesn’t need bodyguards,” Aaron snickered. “She’s a teenager now.”

  “I’m her big brother,” I retorted. “I don’t care how old she is.” I grabbed my guitar. “Let’s go.”

  When we reached the pool, I stopped short about ten feet from the stage. There were already over fifty people standing around the backyard. I hadn’t expected this kind of turnout.

  Beads of sweat popped up on my nose and my clammy hands gripped my shorts. The swimming pool was filled with girls from school wearing skimpy bikinis and staring at me with anticipating smiles. I groaned. This might be harder than I thought.

  I glanced down at our set list. I had originally planned to open with one of Delilah’s favorite songs, but looking at the crowd made me change my mind. I need to make a great first impression. These people know me, and I promised my mother I wouldn’t embarrass her.

  “Guys, we have to switch it up,” I told Aaron and Paulie. “Let’s play something they can dance to.”

  “Okay,” Paulie agreed.

  I stepped up to the microphone. My hands were so sweaty that the microphone almost slipped right out of my hand.

  “Good afternoon. We would like to welcome you to the Annual Pine Grove Labor Day Bash. More importantly, it’s my baby sister’s thirteenth birthday party!”

  Delilah and her friends cheered.

  “My name is Aiden; these are my friends, Paulie and Aaron. We’re gonna play for a couple of hours and hope you enjoy yourselves.”

  I nodded at Paulie and he broke into the opening of Rick James’ Bad Mamma Jamma. A few seconds later I joined in and started to sing the hook. As soon as I started to sing, all the kids whooped and yelled and started to sing along. It’s exactly what I needed.

  My family hasn’t heard me sing before. Eric’s been working with me on my vocals. I can’t be just a guitar player if I want to be in a band or record an album. No one is going to pay to just hear me play.

  Singer/songwriter.

  That’s what I am.

  I started working on my voice at the beach. It’s nowhere near where it needs to be but the vocal coach that Eric hooked me up with says I have a lot of potential.

  Right now, though, I sounded pretty fuckin’ good.

  When I broke into the guitar solo, my sisters and their friends cheered so loudly that I just played louder. They loved it! They love us and we’ve only played half of one song.

  I fed off the high energy of the crowd as we ran through some more old school funk songs then made the transition into the pop songs that Delilah had specifically requested. As we played, more people began singing and dancing.

  We played a few more songs before we took a break. Stepping off the stage, I felt like a rock star, especially when my teammates and girls surrounded me like real fans.

  “Aiden, you guys are so good!” a girl named Holly gushed as she rubbed my arm. “I had no idea you could play the guitar.”

  “Aiden, are you thirsty? Can I get you a pop?” Maggie asked and rushed to get me a Pepsi.

  Paulie and Aaron were getting the same treatment. My mother motioned for me to join her at one of the tables, so I sat down next to her and Sara. Both of them were smiling.

  “Wow, Aiden,” my mom said. “I’m speechless. You are absolutely amazing. I felt like I was at a concert.”

  “That’s what practice will do,” I beamed.

  “I told you he was good, Mom,” Sara stated. “You should have listened to me.”

  “Well, I’m sorry that I even hesitated to ask you to play,” my mother said to me. “And I’m even sorrier we spent all that money on the DJ. No one is going to want to listen to him after hearing you.”

  “Are you going to do my song?” Sara asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. I have a song I’ve been working on for Dee-Lee that I think she’s going to love.”

  “What song is that?” my mother asked.

  “It’s by Prince. It’s called The Most Beautiful Girl in the World.”

  “Oh, I love that song,” my mom sighed. “She’s going to love if you play that for her.”

  I looked at my mother in surprise. How does she know that song? I didn’t ask. I wanted to get back on the stage. I’m eager to see how the neighbors respond to my acoustic guitar songs.

  Paulie, Aaron, and I took the stage again. Paulie and I sat on a couple of barstools we’d pulled away from the bar. During our break, Paulie asked his dad to join us for one song. Eric can play damn near any instrument that’s put in front of him. For this song I needed him on his sax.

  “Okay, we’re back,” I addressed the crowd. “And since my mom put together such a wonderful tropical paradise for us, we want to put you in a tropical mood with one of my little sister’s favorite songs by a band she’s probably never heard of. Here’s a little Kokomo by the Beach Boys!”

  After that, we played some more stuff
we were really good at, Faith by George Michael, Stand by Me and My Girl by The Temptations. When we started covering songs by The Rolling Stones and The Beatles, hardly anyone stayed in their chairs.

  Two people that were sitting and not paying attention to us were my father and Coach Jordan. They were talking and my father kept looking at me. He wasn’t smiling and I know that Coach Jordan was telling him that I’ve been missing practice. I had to.

  There’s no way I could have rehearsed with Paulie and Aaron and still go to practice two times a day. Coach shouldn’t be mad. I was at practice bright and early every morning.

  My dad walked towards the stage and my stomach twisted in a knot. His face was beet red which only meant one thing...he was going to embarrass the shit out of me. He stood on the side of stage and glared at me.

  “Wrap it up,” he ordered.

  I ignored him and kept playing. As long as he doesn’t actually pull the plug on us, I'm going to keep playing until the sun sets or I run out of songs. He can yell at me once everyone leaves. Today isn’t about me. It isn’t about my parents. It isn’t about football. It’s all about Delilah. She'll be devastated if I stop playing.

  Mom and I had agreed that we’d only play for two hours and we were running over our time limit so we ended with Happy Birthday while Delilah blew out the candles on her cake. Then we played Sara’s Bon Jovi request which started a bunch of Bon Jovi requests that I had to turn down. We ended with The Most Beautiful Girl in the World which brought Delilah, Sara, and my mother to tears.

  I was actually thrilled to be done. I need to work on my stamina which I thought would have been better since I’m an athlete. Obviously, playing football is so much different than singing and playing the guitar. My fingers actually ache, but I had given it my all and I'm happy with the results.

  ****

  After the caterer had packed up, the decorators had returned our property to its normal state, and the last of the guests were gone, my family all but passed out on the sofa in the family room. It had been an exhausting day. At least we had fun.

  Mom was sitting in the middle of the sofa with me on side of her, Sara on the other, and Delilah on her lap. We were silent until my father walked into the room and interrupted our peace and quiet.

  “Aiden, I want to talk to you.”

  “Can it wait, Dad?” I pleaded. “I’m too tired to talk.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” he bellowed. “All you have to do is listen.”

  I shut my eyes hoping he’d get the hint. He didn’t. I felt him still scowling at me. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.

  “Alright. I’m listening.”

  “Coach Jordan informed me that you are not ready to start next Friday because you’ve been skipping practice.”

  I kept my eyes focused on the ceiling. He hadn’t really asked me anything.

  “I’m really disappointed in you, Aiden. I know that playing for your sister’s party was a big deal for you, but you were supposed to figure out a way to do it and not let it interfere with football. You didn’t do that. I don’t think you are capable of managing your time wisely. You’re going to have to give up your music for awhile. At least until the season is over.”

  “What?” I have great ears. When I’m playing my guitar or listening to a CD I can pick out every chord progression, every different instrument, or every missed note. So I heard what my dad said. I just can’t believe he actually said it.

  “You heard me.”

  “I’m not giving up music.”

  “Yes, you are,” he insisted. “You are incapable of keeping your priorities straight. This music thing is not going to ruin your life. I won’t let it. It ends today.”

  Is he drunk?

  “Seriously, Dad, you’re trippin’. I’m not going to stop playing just because you want me to play football.”

  “You don’t have a choice. I’ve already locked up your guitar. If you can learn how to focus on what’s important, you can get it back.”

  “You took my guitar?” I screamed around the fire pit in my throat. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Aiden, calm down, sweetie,” my mother urged.

  I couldn’t calm down. Especially when my father ordered my mother to stop babying me. I lost it.

  “Don’t talk to her like that! And you don’t make any decisions for me. Give me back my guitar, now!” I screamed.

  “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, boy?” my father yelled at me.

  I stood face to face with my dad. I’m sure my face was redder than his.

  “You!” I yelled back. “You’re living in a fantasy world. I’m not even that good of a football player! It’s not my fault that you never made pro but you’re not going to push it on me! If you don’t give me back my guitar, I’ll quit the team!”

  “If you quit, Aiden, I swear you’ll never see that fucking guitar ever again!”

  His threat made me nervous. I love my guitar. But I’m not backing down to him, not over this. I’m sure my father hadn’t expected this reaction from me. He’s used to me doing what he says. He crossed a line when he confiscated my guitar.

  “That’s not the only guitar in the world,” I replied bravely. “Keep it. I’ll get a job and buy a new one.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” my father growled.

  “Are you going to give it back?” I challenged him. “I’ll be eighteen soon and there’s nothing you can do to keep me from getting a job.”

  “As long as you live in my house, you will do what I tell you to do,” he replied through clenched teeth. His teeth were clenched so tightly that I hoped he’d break a few like they do in cartoons.

  No such luck.

  “Doug,” my mom pleaded. “Just give him back his guitar. You have to be reasonable. Both of you.”

  “Shut up, Dina. This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Don’t tell my mother to shut up!”

  I stepped closer to my father. My hands balled into fists.

  “Do you want to fight, tough guy?” my dad jeered. “You want to hit me for yelling at your mother? Are you a guitar playing hippie mama’s boy now, Aiden?”

  Before I could react, Sara jumped off the couch and grabbed my arms to keep me from punching the shit out of my father. She pushed me out of the family room while my father was yelling at me to get out of his house. My mother was yelling too, but she was yelling at my father.

  Sara practically dragged me up to my room and slammed the door shut. Her eyes filled with tears. Delilah eased the door open seconds later. She was crying too.

  “Aiden, I’m sorry Dad took your guitar,” she said. “Are you going to leave, like Dad said?”

  “Dee-Lee, I’m not going anywhere,” I told her. I gathered both of my tearful sisters in my arms and sat on the bed with my arms around them.

  “He’s just an asshole,” I assured them. “An asshole that’s had too much to drink tonight. He’ll give me back my guitar tomorrow, after he’s slept off some of his liquor.”

  “But he was about to hit you,” Delilah cried.

  I think that terrified her more than anything. Our parents have never raised a hand to any of us before.

  “He’s drunk,” I replied. “He’s not stupid. He wasn’t going to hit me.”

  “What if he doesn’t give you back your guitar?”

  I shrugged. “Then I’ll get another one. He’s not going to stop me from doing this, you guys. I promise you.”

  “Aiden, I think you were great for standing up to Dad,” Sara looked at me. “He doesn’t have the right to push you around like that. We’ll get you another guitar. I have some money saved up.”

  I smiled and tousled my older sister’s hair. “Save your money. I’m going to get a job and I’ll buy one. Don’t worry about me, Sara. I’ll be fine.”

  I mean it. I will be fine. Doug Tyler is sadly mistaken if he thinks I’m afraid of him. He’s just one of the many obstacles I know I’m going to have to
endure to get where I want to be.

  He can take my guitar. He can put me out on the street. No one will ever take me seriously as a blues player if I don’t have a story behind my name. Besides, this is nothing but writing material anyway. How many blues players haven’t struggled with something? Not many.

  Chapter 8

  The glass doors of Evans Hall slammed behind me when I walked out of my dorm carrying the last of a bag of clothes from my room. Sweat dripped into my eyes. Under my baseball cap, my hair was soaking wet. At least my car is loaded with all the crap that I’ve accumulated since I came to school.

  Goodbye Emory University!

  Finals are over and a rough freshmen year is done. This has been the longest ten months of my life. College sucks! Whoever thought I’d have fun here just because I got to room with my best friend was wrong. College is nothing like they show it on television.

  I hated getting up and going to class. College classes are hard. The only good thing that I got out of college was not living in Mt. Vernon anymore and the parties.

  “Are you going home for the summer, Aiden?” Jenna, a philosophy major, asked when I walked past her lugging my bag.

  “Nope. I’m gonna hang out in Atlanta.”

  “Cool!” she tossed her long wavy hair over her shoulder and smiled. “I’m going back to Tennessee. See you next semester!”

  Don’t count on it.

  Jenna was sweet but I’ve had enough of Emory girls. They all think they’re too smart for their own good, just because they got into Emory University. I had enough of these types of girls when I was in Mt. Vernon.

  Along with me and Jenna, ninety percent of our dorm was leaving to go home for the summer, even Paulie. I don’t know why he’s going back to Mt. Vernon. He could stay in Atlanta with me and we’d have a ball. He’s totally going to miss all the fun.

  Even if I wanted to go home, I’m not sure my parents would want me. They were very excited when I told them I wanted to stay in Atlanta for the summer. My dad and I have been at odds since he confiscated my guitar, and things have only gotten worse. I deliberately made things worse. My father is an asshole. I spent my entire senior year trying to convince him that he can’t control me. My main mission that year was to do the opposite of everything he wanted.