Tyler

I've been doing some thinking since graduation about what I'm going to do with my life. I never got a basketball scholarship, despite my parent's insistent demands to apply for one. In fact, I didn't apply for any scholarships at all.

I was playing Friend, Please on the piano a few days ago when I thought back to that day in the mental hospital. The day I met Gerard. He told me to stick with my music, but how reliable is his opinion? There are thousands of other musicians out there who are hundreds of times better than I am. Who's to say that I can make it very far?

But music is my passion, I argue with myself. It makes me happy, not basketball. Jenna said she would stick around no matter what and so did Josh. I'm sure my family will eventually learn to support me, too.

I inhale deeply. I thought I made this decision yesterday, but apparently, my mind still isn't at ease. My light sleep was filled with tossing and turning.

You're never going to get anywhere until you tell them, I tell myself. I sigh and roll off my bed, which I've been laying on for the past half hour thinking.

Jogging upstairs, I find the house quiet. Zack, Maddy, and Jay must be out doing something. Perfect.

"Mom?" I call.

She leans around the corner of the kitchen. "Hey Tyler, what's up?"

I look at my feet, take a deep breath, and look back up to meet her gaze. "Could I talk to you and Dad for a minute?"

Her face softens. "Of course. He's outside playing ball with the others. I'll get them." She walks past me to the front door.

I pull out the piano bench in the living room and sit down on it nervously, deeming the seat appropriate for the conversation I'm about to have. I subconsciously reach over and play a few notes after lifting the lid, trying to steady my breathing and slow my racing heart back down to seventy beats per minute.

Mom walks through the front door, Dad trailing behind her. They both sit down on the couch.

"What is it, Honey?" Mom asks.

I take a deep breath. "Mom, Dad." I make eye contact as I say each of their names. "I--Uh--I...IwanttokeepmakingmusicandIdon'twannagotocollege."

Their brows furrow. "What?" Mom asks.

I take two deep breaths this time. "I want to keep making music. I don't want to go to college."

Dad's facial expression darkens. "What!?"

I flinch. "This is what I want."

He stands up. "You were supposed to play basketball! You could've made it to the pros if you really wanted to!"

I hang my head. "I'm not your only son. Zack can do a much better job than me. And...this...this is my life. I want to live it the way I want. And what I want is to continue the band with Josh."

"It's not too late for a scholarship," he growls. "You should go out and do you five hundred shots now."

The door to the garage clicks, making us all jump. Zack steps forward, a basketball tucked under his arm. "Let him do what he wants. It's his life. He can do something with his music that basketball can't, and that's to inspire people. I'll be the basketball kid you've always wanted."

Dad glares at me. "Fine, do what you want. Don't let me stop you." He growls and storms out of the room.

Zack drops the ball and rushes forward to hug me. I tremble as his arms wrap around me. Mom joins him, kissing me on the top of my head.

"Thank you," I murmur.

Zack pulls away. "I know that took a lot of guts for you to tell him that, and Dad had no right to respond that way."

Mom nods. "Don't worry. He'll come around. You may feel like he hates you, but this will all turn out like the story of the prodigal son. Just you wait and see."

"Okay," I murmur.

"We're proud of your decision," Mom says, kissing me on the head one last time."

"Thanks." I look around the room. "I'm going to take a walk now."

"Okay, stay safe," she says as I walk out the door. I walk without having to tell my feet where to take me.

The familiar bell chimes on the door of the music store as I step into the air-conditioned building. I stride over to the pianos like I have done a hundred times before and sit down, my hands taking over and playing the opening chords of Taxi Cab.

A familiar red-haired guy walks in from the back room. "Hey...aren't you the dude that sang in here a few weeks ago?"

I nod. "I am."

"Well, I'm Spencer if you don't remember. What may I do for you?"

"Oh, I was just wanting to get out of the house. I just told my parents that I wanted to pursue music and didn't want to go to college."

"And I assume they didn't take it well?"

I nod. "My dad was really mad. He wanted me to get a basketball scholarship. He stormed out of the room after I told him."

"Ouch," Spencer replies. "Well, I guess you can hang here for a while."

"Okay." I turn back to the piano and continue to play, then eventually move to ukulele. A few minutes later, I'm hooking a bass up to an amp.

Spencer tilts his head at me as I mess around with bass riffs. "You seem to know a lot about music, don't you?"

"Well, I am in a band, so..."

He chuckles. "That was kind of a dumb question on my part. Sorry."

I grin. "It's cool."

"So...we've been kind of short on employees lately. It's only been me and Jeff the manager. I would think that you'd need a job to help get your band off the ground. How about I talk to Jeff and see if you can work here?"

I pause. "Really?"

He shrugs. "It's the least I could do.

I walk forward and clasp his hand. "Thank you, really. This means a lot."

He smiles. "Just be sure to remember me when you're rich and famous and smiling as you receive an award."

I laugh as I scribble down my name and phone number on a piece of paper. "I will."

I walk to Josh's house after leaving the music store. Jordan and Abigail are playing tag in the yard. I eye the house to see Mrs. Dun watching them through the living room window, which I'm grateful for. We don't need anyone else getting kidnapped.

Abigail runs up to me. "Hi, Tyler!"

I grin at her and ruffle her hair. "Hey, Abby. Is Josh home?"

She nods. "Momma says just to go in when you come over. You don't have to knock."

I laugh. "Okay." I open the glass door, then the house door behind it and step inside.

"Hi Tyler," Mrs. Dun greets as I step inside. "Josh is upstairs."

I recognize the steady, reassuring drumbeats of Guns for Hands as I make my way up the stairs. I slowly open Josh's bedroom door to see him pounding away on his drum kit, a pair of headphones over his ears. I start singing at a random part of the song. Josh finally notices and stops, taking his headphones off.

"How long have you been here!??" he exclaims.

"About a full minute," I reply. I walk over and sit down at his desk chair. "So...I think my dad temporarily kicked me out of the house."

He sets his drumsticks on the snare. "What for?"

I take a deep breath and clasp my hands together. "Well, I told him that I wasn't going to college and that I was pursuing a career in music."

Josh pauses. "Really?"

I nod. A slow smile creeps onto his face.

"And that's not the only thing," I say. "I just came back from the music store, and the red-haired dude there--Spencer--offered me a job!"

His eyes widen. "Are you serious!?"

"Yes. He said he'd talk to his manager about it."

"Dude, that's great! Oh, I also applied for a job at the record store on the other side of Columbus. I'm not planning to go to college, either."

"We really are going all out with the band, huh?" I ask, grinning.

Josh stands up. "Yes, we are." He walks over from the kit and hugs me. "I'm so excited to see where we're going to go with our music, record label or not."

I smile. "I am, too." We sit down across from each other Indian-style on the floor.

"So, what is Jenna's opinion on all of this?" Josh asks, tapping out a rhythm on the floor with his fingers, the carpet muffling the beats.

"I haven't told her yet. I plan to announce all this during our date on Saturday."

He wiggles his eyebrows. "Oh? What do you have planned?"

I roll my eyes. Josh can be such a teenage girl sometimes when it comes to relationships. "We'll just probably have a picnic at the park like our first date. I may bring a board game for us to play."

"Nice. I'm going to go on a date with Debby pretty soon."

"Debby and Jenna seem to be quite the gal pals," I state, smirking.

"That's probably a good thing. We wouldn't want them hating each other."

I tilt my head. "True." A brief silence settles over us.

"So...rehearsal it is?" Josh finally asks.

I grin. "You read my mind."

I leave Josh's about an hour later. Too scared to come home and face my dad, I wander the streets aimlessly. My feet lead me to the woods, where I walk past the shell of the treehouse. The tree seems to be recovering well, which is good. I'll probably never rebuild the actual fort, though. That's something in the past that I need to let go of in order for me to move on in my life.

Passing the treehouse, my feet take me to Jenna's. I'm soon looking into her backyard. I sit crossed-legged on the forest floor and watch her house. What am I doing? I feel like some sort of stalker. Nah...I'm just people-watching. There's a difference.

I look up to Jenna's bedroom window, and to my surprise, my beautiful girlfriend is curled up in the seat, writing in something like a journal. I smile. People look and act truly themselves when they think no one is watching. I've learned that a lot over the years.

Jenna reaches over and unlatches the window, the glass swinging outward. A faint sound drifts across the yard, and that's when I realize Jenna is singing. I've seldom heard her sing before. That's when I realize that she's singing Lovely. A song I wrote!

I smile. I don't think Jenna will have a problem with my decision about the band.

I settle myself against a tree and tilt my head back, gazing up into the canopy dappled by sunlight. I close my eyes and listen to Jenna's singing. Before I know it, I fall asleep.