Chapter Sixty-Six

Parker Lowell

“That was really good,” Kim commented into the silence that had ensued since we had climbed into the van for the drive back home.

“Actually, I didn’t think it was all that great,” Beth said. “Not really because of them, but because the crowd didn’t seem to be into it at all for some reason.”

I nodded in agreement, having noticed that myself. It had seemed strange to me because whenever I saw a clip from one of their concerts on television, the crowd was always wild, screaming and jumping up and down and clapping and dancing. This audience had been much different. It was like no one was having fun.

“Not that the Hansons really encouraged us or anything,” Theresa pointed out. “I mean, on telvision and stuff like that you can barely keep up with how many times Taylor says ‘come on’ and they always jump up and down and talk to the crowd and encourage them. They barely said two words to the audience the whole time except for when they were introducing the songs and the apology speech.”

I secretly half-smiled at that, remembering the delivery of the apology speech I had had hand in writing. It wasn’t so much the fact that I thought the writing of it was good as the fact that it had been read out loud in a huge crowd of people by someone famous. Even if nobody except for my friends knew that I was the one who had written the majority of it. I felt like the writer of a song that some boy band had made famous, though I doubted anyone would ever remember any of the contents of the speech later.

“I guess,” Beth said. “But maybe the reason they weren’t encouraging us is because they didn’t think we were into it and wouldn’t do it anyway. Maybe it’s our fault.”

“Personally,” Jared said, interrupting the conversation before it got into some big debate over whose fault it was that no one was into it, “I wasn’t paying so much attention to the crowd as I was to that honking string of drool coming from Taylor’s mouth to the microphone. Talk about gross.”

Kim looked alarmed.

“Drool? He was drooling? He was not!” she said as if he had just told her a meteor the size of Texas was headed straight for Earth and it would be the end of us all if we didn’t stop it.

“I didn’t notice that either,” Theresa said.

“I did,” Beth chimed in.

“Me too,” Cory admitted.

“The drooling wasn’t half as gross as when Zac would take a sip from that water bottle of his and then proceed to spit it out all over the stage. I feel really sorry for the people who have to clean that place up,” Gina commented from the front.

“You think that was bad? You should go to a Tori Amos concert some time. I think the first three rows or so of the audience were soaking wet by the time she was done,” Beth said.

“You know, your taste in music amazes me,” Jared said. “I mean, it just totally mystifies me that someone can like Tori Amos and Hanson.”

She shrugged.

“Look, I need an Upper sometimes,” Beth said.

“Still,” Cory spoke up, “I’m surprised that Taylor was actually able to play the right chords. The keys must have been slippery by the time the show was halfway over.”

I smiled and turned my attention to the passing scenery outside my window, the starry sky above and decided to tune out the rest of the conversation. The only things I really remember from that ride are finding the Big Dipper and thinking about how they were talking about my brother. My brother.

And all seemed well with the world.

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Index
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Seven--Last Chapter