"Yo, Dew," said Freddy, crossing his elbows over the front seats, "You gonna toss those beers back here, or are you gonna drink 'em all yourself?"
Dewey belched and set his half-empty bottle to one side as he drove.
"Are you kiddin'?" he replied with a snort, "Your parents have elected moi to be the responsible adult of this little shenanigan – what the hell kind of responsible adult would I be if I let you guys drink beer?"
"The kind of responsible adult who drinks while he's driving?" suggested Summer, unimpressed.
"Yeah," said Dewey, agreeing, but not really understanding. "Now get back there, Ah-rrrrruppuh-pum-pum, and work on your fills. There's plenty o' drinks in the icebox."
"Yeah, if you call 7Up the drink of hard rockers," muttered Freddy, doing as he was told.
"I take it you know where you're going," said Summer to Dewey as he bobbed along to The Doors.
"Detroit Rock City, baby!" crowed Dew, taking another sip of booze. "Did I tell you about the time I almost got to open for KISS at their reunion?"
"One thing at a time. Minnesota's the last gig you're playing. Between now and then, we've got more than a dozen shows lined up over six different States, so if you want to make it as far as Michigan, do yourself a favor and turn left at these lights."
"What would I do without you?" he remarked with a grin, following her orders.
"Stage dive out your apartment window," said Summer, also beaming widely as she popped open a beer and took a long draw from the bottle.
0-o
Spent my days with a woman unkind, Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine.
To the relief of all present, Zeppelin's fourth album had mellowed out with the song Going to California, and for a while the band sat in harmonious quietude, listening to the soft, high-strung acoustic work of Jimmy Page as the van trundled along.
Made up my mind to make a new start, Going To California with an aching in my heart.
From underneath his fringe, Zack examined his bandmates as shafts of afternoon sunlight filtered through the portholes. Freddy was crouched, resting up against the front seats, from which the back of Dewey and Summer's heads could be seen. He was twirling his sticks and looking expressionlessly down at Alicia's shoe, probably quite deep in thought. Lawrence was up against the wall, a cushion nestled behind his head as he read through The New Shorter Oxford Dictionary. What a way to entertain yourself, thought Zack with a smirk.
Next to Lawrence was the trio of backup vocalists. Alicia and Marta lay snoozing under each of Tomika's arms, and Tomika too was nodding off with a cute smile curling over her mouth – a soul sister Santa Claus, that was a good description. Behind them, and in the farthest corner of the van, Katie lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling as she plucked at her bass guitar.
Now, Zack might have been quiet and introverted, but he was no fool. Katie was very, very pretty, and was killer sweet to boot. Though he really only talked openly with Freddy and Dewey, he had still taken the time to get to know her over the years, and never once found something he didn't like. But still……a relationship? It wasn't Zack's style. He fancied himself to be somewhat of a Bob Dylan – why get a woman to justify your life when the music does it just as well?
Sighing through his nose, Zack turned away and looked out at the passing neighborhood. There were a lot of miles to put behind them, but he knew that, when the chips were down, it would all be over way too soon.
It was when he turned his eyes away from Katie that Katie turned her eyes to him.
Zack, she thought, her expression unchanging. Look at him sitting there on that beanbag, cuddling his guitar like it's some kind of security blanket.
Cuddling, of course, was an overstatement. The body of his guitar was nestled comfortably beneath his arms, and the fret leant back over his shoulder. In truth, Katie wished she could exchange places with the instrument, but she quickly shook the thoughts out of her head. This trip would be so much easier if she weren't so hung up on this spaced-out heartthrob!
The song began to fade at the final chords, and Dewey gave a loud sigh of contentment.
"Who's hungry?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at an approaching Burger King.
o-0
"Alright, listen to this," said Summer, leafing through a newspaper as they all sat round a table in the corner. "Ahem. 'The School of Rock, once called The Jackson Five for metalheads, has fast become a rousing tribute to the glory days of music……Zack's Zeppelin-era solos, Tomika's sharp gospel pipes and frontman Dewey Finn's own brand of glam rock energy mean every number is a treat to behold……'"
A murmur of approval rose up from the band. It wasn't the first good review they'd read.
"Easy on the burgers, Dew," said Freddy, as Dewey shed the wrapper of his third that afternoon. "Billy only made you one outfit, y'know – how many successful rockers have their gut poking through on stage?"
"Meat Woaf dib it all vuh time," argued Dewey with a mouthful of food.
"Mm. Good point."
"I hope we won't be having fast food every day," remarked Summer, sharply. "Need I remind you of how greasy treats can affect your performance on stage if no moderation is exercised?"
"No, you needn't," said Dewey, setting his burger down and reaching for his drink. "And that whole deal about fatty foods being bad for you is such a bunch of crapola, man! When I went on tour with MaggotDeath back in the Nineties, I ate and drank pizza rolls! Do I look unhealthy to you?"
Everybody looked down at their meals. After a brief silence, Alicia quietly pushed her fries away and said, "I'll be in the van."
0-o
"……and then you just follow the freeway for the next fifty odd miles," finished Summer, falling back into her seat exhaustedly.
Dewey, at last free of the twists and turns of suburban New York, also fell back and shuffled down in his seat, so that one of his legs was slung over the wheel and he was basically driving with his foot.
Mortified, Summer leant over to take the wheel and let Dewey scrounge around for snacks and CDs.
"I suppose you plan to get us arrested more than once along the way?" she hissed.
"Man, the last time I was on tour, the fuzz followed me to every state border," said Dewey, "Like they had to make sure I was gone before they got back to their day-to-day routine. It ain't a tour until you've been breath tested and given a background check, I'll tell you that twice."
"I'm sure that would look divine on my permanent record."
"Your permanent record?!" cried Dew, exasperated. "What are you talking about? You're seventeen years old, still too young to be tried in a court of law! You should be committing arson between classes!"
"Hey, can I quote you on that, Dew?" asked Freddy from the back.
"No."
"It's not that I have a problem with you setting an awful example for a group of minors," said Summer with no small amount of annoyance, "But we might be faced with a problem if, instead of rocking on stage, we're calling our parents from the side of the road as the police tow the van away!"
Dewey thought it over and slowly began to nod.
"You're right," he said in all seriousness. "You are absolutely right. See, that's why you're the manager and I'm the tortured genius lead singer with a heart of gold."
"Thank you."
Dewey folded his hands over his chest and let his eyes fall closed.
"Well," he yawned, "Wake me if we need to slow down."
Summer fumed, but didn't object. As if reading her mind, Freddy offered to climb over and take the wheel, having got his license in the Fall. So Summer, with a grateful smile, climbed into the back with the rest of the band; Dewey shifted his bulk to the passenger seat; and Freddy, seatbelt in place, took command of the van.
It was quite late in the day. The only music now was the soft snoring of Dewey Finn and Zack's experimental riffs in the back.
"Whaddaya call that?" asked Tomika after a particularly peaceful strum.
"The Odyssey," said Zack, only briefly affording her eye contact. "I wrote it during English last semester."
"I like it," Katie enthused.
"So do I," said Summer, a little louder. "Got any lyrics for it?"
"None yet," he replied.
It seemed obvious to Katie that Zack only wanted the spotlight when he was rocking. He didn't like questions, or encouragement or any kind of good-natured confrontation. In a way, she admired his Lone Wolf attitude, but she also despaired over it – would they ever get a chance to talk if he was so caught up being quiet? She pondered over it for a little while, before a small smile crept over her gorgeous lips.
"What were those first chords?" she asked him earnestly as she took her bass and propped it on her lap.
"Oh, they're……G……A minor……then back to G……then you rest on C, and you kind of repeat that until the chorus," said Zack, with a little more enthusiasm than normal.
Katie took the opportunity to scoot a little closer, and Lawrence shifted to make room.
"Like this?" she asked, expertly following his direction.
"Yeah, you got it!" he chuckled. "Good job!"
She looked up at him with a warm smile in her eyes, and for a moment, Zack held the gaze and felt his ears become hot. At the same time, the two of them were scrutinized by a jealous glare from Summer Hathaway, and a fleeting, heartbroken glance from Freddy Jones, his sad eyes looking away from the rear view mirror and back to the road ahead.