Ethan, hearing his mother’s question, offered a noncommittal response.
“Yeah, plenty.” It was technically true; he’d thought plenty about if he was going, if he wasn’t going.
Haley, who had just entered the kitchen, phone in hand, chimed in with a sarcastic tone.
“You know what’s not in demand?”
Alex, struggling with her cello, groaned.
“Oh, what?”
“Girls who play in university orchestras,” Haley said, smirking.
Alex rolled her eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh.
Phil, seeing Alex’s plight, stepped forward.
“Here, I’ll help you carry it out to the curb.”
Claire, however, quickly stopped him.
“Phil, put on some pants.”
Phil gestured to his boxer shorts.
“Come on, this covers up more than my bathing suit.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Claire muttered, shuddering at the memory.
She then turned to Hayley.
“Haley, honey, don’t forget the driving instructor is picking you up from school.”
Haley groaned dramatically.
“Can’t he pick me up someplace else?
I don’t want kids at school thinking I’m dating a 40-year-old driving instructor who’s not even cute.”
Ethan, back on the couch, fidgeted with a drumstick.
“A while ago, I was paid something called mom bucks.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Total waste of time, it’s only useful to cash out for real bucks.”
He sighed.
“I was paid to go driving with Hayley.”
He shuddered.
“It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”
He shook his head solemnly.
“She can’t drive for love nor money.”
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a serious tone.
“I have never felt more in danger than in a car with her.”
Flashback.
Ethan, looking terrified, sat in the passenger seat of the family car.
Hayley, behind the wheel, looked utterly confident, despite her complete lack of skill.
“Adjust your mirrors,” Ethan instructed, his voice strained.
Hayley glanced at the rearview mirror.
“All three of them, and I can see myself perfectly.”
“Move your rear-view mirror,” Ethan pleaded, pointing to the mirror.
“Why?
I can see myself,” Hayley retorted, confused.
“You’re supposed to see your rear!” Ethan yelled, frustration mounting.
Hayley, surprised, looked over her shoulder, at her own backside.
“Not that rear!” Ethan clarified, exasperated.
“Behind you!
So you can see behind the car!” He smacked his forehead.
“Put your seatbelt on!”
“But this outfit wrinkles so easily,” Hayley whined, gesturing to her perfectly styled clothes.
“Just do it!” Ethan snapped, practically doing it for her.
“Now, are you familiar with the gear shift?”
Haley looked at the gear shift lever, confused.
“You mean the PRNDL?”
“The what?” Ethan stared at her.
“The PRNDL?” Hayley repeated, drawing out the letters.
“Are you referring to the shift lever that has P, R, N, D, L?!” Ethan asked, incredulous.
“I’m not a child, I know how to spell,” Hayley retorted defensively.
“It’s not something you spell!
It’s a gear shift!
The letters stand for Park, Reverse, Neutral, Drive, and Low!” Ethan was practically screaming.
“You’re making me nervous with this technical talk,” Hayley said, her face a mask of faux distress.
“Let’s put the radio on,” Ethan tried, trying to calm the situation, though his hands were trembling.
“Do you prefer FM or AM?”
Hayley glared at him.
“I’m not going to do this if you’re going to be an ass.”
Ethan, unable to resist, fired back, “Are you sure you don’t mean rear?”
That was the last straw.
Hayley, with a huff, unbuckled her seatbelt and stormed out of the car.
Ethan, after a moment of stunned silence, followed her.
Claire, who had been watching from the window, rushed out.
“What happened?
You didn’t even get out of the driveway?”
Ethan, having successfully survived the morning madness, and was about to drive his van to school as he rummaged through his pencil case – empty.
With a groan, he decided to quickly run back into the house.
As he entered, the house phone rang, its shrill sound echoing through the empty entryway.
He picked it up automatically, annoyed.
“You’re going to have to call back.
They can’t get to the phone right now.”
“Ethan, is that you?” Mitchell’s voice, sounding strained, came through the receiver.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Ethan asked, surprised.
“Is your mum there?” Mitchell asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“No, she’s driving Luke and Alex to school,” Ethan replied, already knowing this wouldn’t be good.
“Okay,” Mitchell paused, then asked, “Did your parents ever smack your heads into a wall?”
Ethan blinked, taken aback.
“No, they were fans of timeouts.” He couldn’t help but ask, “What happened?”
“Um, we — we just kind of bonked Lily’s head,” Mitchell confessed, his voice filled with anxiety.
“And she — it really wasn’t very hard, and she’s not acting any differently, but I just worry.”
Ethan, always the picture of helpful empathy, offered, “You probably should.
I once dropped Luke when he was a baby and never said anything, and you see how that turned out.”
There was a stunned silence on the other end.
“All right, thank you.
Thanks.
That helps,” Mitchell said, his voice now even more panicked, before hanging up.
Ethan merely shrugged, dropping the phone back onto its cradle.
Later that day, Ethan was at his locker, retrieving his books for his next class, when Cassandra, sauntered up.
Her dark trench coat billowed slightly, and the silver glint of her piercings caught the fluorescent hallway lights.
“Where you been all summer?” Cassandra asked, a slight smirk on her face.
“I’ve been busy,” Ethan replied, pulling out a battered notebook.
“Did you make any progress on new songs?” Cassandra pressed, ever the manager.
Ethan hesitated.
“No, kinda, found a girl.”
Cassandra’s eyebrows raised.
“Was it that one from the show?”
“Yeah,” Ethan confirmed, a dreamy look in his eyes.
He scanned the crowded hallway, trying to spot her.
And then he did.
There she was, talking to a group of friends, her platinum hair shimmering, her dazzling smile captivating.
“This is perfect,” Ethan breathed, a plan already forming in his head.
“I need to find her name,” he decided, taking a step towards her.
“Whose name?” Cassandra asked, confused.
“Hers,” Ethan said, gesturing vaguely.
Cassandra glanced over, her eyes narrowing.
“Oh, you don’t want anything to do with that.”
“I do, I really do,” Ethan insisted, his gaze fixed on the girl.
They walked towards their next class, chatting about their summers.
Cassandra had spent hers interning at a local tattoo parlor, perfecting her design skills, while Ethan had mostly been holed up in his attic, trying to write songs and occasionally pranking Luke.
The rest of the day crawled by for Ethan, a blur of dull classes and incessant clock-watching.
Every break, every moment, he tried to catch another glimpse of her, to glean a snippet of conversation, to finally learn her name.
It wasn’t until the final bell, as the hallway erupted into a joyous stampede, that he overheard a friend call her…
Regina.
The name sounded perfect.
The end-of-day chaos was still swirling when Ethan’s phone buzzed.
A text from his mother: “Pick up your siblings.
Mom bucks are involved.” He groaned.
Regina’s name had barely registered before the real world intruded.
He spotted Regina by her convertible, laughing with her friends, her platinum hair blowing in the wind.
This was his chance.
He took a deep breath, walked up to her, trying to look cool and casual.
“So, I’m going on a tour with my band,” Ethan began, trying to project a rockstar swagger.
“If you’re around, I can probably comp you a few tickets.”
Regina, still laughing with her friends, barely glanced at him.
“Let’s go,” she said to her friends, before driving off, her tires squealing.
Ethan barely had time to move his foot, and the wheel rolled right over it.
“Fuck,” Ethan muttered, hopping on one foot, clutching his bruised extremity.
Cassandra, who had witnessed the entire, disastrous exchange, walked over, a knowing look on her face.
“So it didn’t go as planned.
Just move on.”
Ethan scoffed, rubbing his throbbing foot.
“She is just playing hard to get, I know she’s into me.” His ego, despite the physical pain, remained surprisingly intact.
Later on, Ethan’s van, which he had managed to get to school, was parked outside the middle school, ready for sibling collection.
“Get in,” Ethan ordered, leaning out the window of the driver’s side.
Alex, walking towards the van with Luke, looked at him with disdain.
“Why are you picking us up?”
Ethan held up a fist.
“Mom said she would pay mom bucks if I drove you home from school.” He high-fived Cassandra, who was in the passenger seat.
“I would rather walk,” Alex stated, unmoving.
“Get in, now,” Ethan commanded, pulling open the sliding side door of the van.
The interior, however, was no longer equipped with spare seats.
Instead, it was filled with spare band equipment, extra amps, a stack of road cases, and various other musical paraphernalia, all precariously piled.
Alex stared at the mess.
“What happened to the spare seats?”
“I needed the room for my new equipment,” Ethan explained, completely unconcerned.
Luke, unfazed by the lack of seating, clambered over a stack of guitar cases and found a spot.
Alex, however, looked horrified.
“How did you have the money for that?”
Ethan winked at her.
“Mom bucks.” He helped move Alex’s backpack and cello case into a small, relatively clear space amongst the equipment.
“This is a safety hazard,” Alex declared, eyeing the precarious piles.
Ethan merely grinned, starting the engine.
“Better hold on tight.”
He drove them home, the van rattling and creaking, Cassandra chatting animatedly beside him.
They pulled up outside the house, where there mother was already waiting.
“Did you remember to pick up your siblings?” Claire asked, her arms crossed.
“Yeah,” Ethan replied, as he released Luke and Alex from the back of the van, who emerged looking dishevelled but unharmed.
Claire gave the van a dubious look.
“I told you not to do that.”
“See?
Back in one piece,” Ethan said, gesturing to his siblings.
Phil, now in shorts and a jumper, jogged up.
“There they are.
How was the first day back in prison?”
“Fine,” Luke mumbled.
“Yeah,” Alex echoed, brushing off some dust from her cello case.
Luke looked at his parents, confused.
“What are you guys doing?”
Phil, bouncing on the balls of his feet, announced, “Your mom and I are racing to the mailbox on Sequoia and back.”
“Why?” Alex asked, utterly bewildered.
Claire shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, she knows,” Phil corrected, winking.
He turned to Luke.
“Hey, buddy, as soon as I’m done kicking a little mom butt here, how about I school you in some Mario Kart?”
Luke sighed, “Can’t.
Got to work on my journal.”
“Lame!” Phil exclaimed.
“Hey, uh, Alex, you?”
“I have a history paper,” Alex replied.
“Well, if you want to see a little history being made right here –” Phil started, puffing out his chest.
“Not really,” Alex said, walking towards the house.
“Okay, Ethan?” Phil asked, hopefully.
“I got to work on my music, come on, Cassie,” Ethan said, already heading towards the attic stairs, Cassandra following closely behind him.
Phil turned to Claire, a competitive glint in his eye.
“Ready?”
Claire smiled.
“Are you?”
“I was born ready.
I came out of the womb wearing tiny, little, golden…” Phil paused dramatically,
“Go!” Claire yelled, and both parents took off sprinting down the street, a blur of competitive energy.
Cassandra watched them go, shaking her head.
“Does your dad actually think he’s going to outrun your mother?”
Ethan merely shrugged.
“I don’t know.
I got bigger issues.” He glanced back at the street, a faint smirk forming.
Regina.
He had her name.
Now to get her attention.
He and Cassandra went upstairs, the rhythmic thud of his new bass drum already calling to him.
It wasn’t long before the attic was filled with the electrifying sounds of ‘The Rusty Spoons’ practising, a new, raw energy fueling Ethan’s playing.
“I’m a puppet on a string!” Ethan screamed into the microphone, his voice filled with a mixture of angst and defiant joy.