The Goodbye Year

by Kaira Rouda

  As for Crystal Beach inspirations, a few of his lyrics were about the ocean and although she wasn’t named, Ashley was the topic of most of Dane’s recent songwriting sessions. By the middle of sophomore year, they’d become close, but they were out of sync. Whenever Dane was serious with a girl, Ashley was single. Well, truth be told, Ashley had always been single, unwilling to commit to anything more than flirting since junior year. Until Blake. Now all the guys had to hate Blake because they all lusted after Ashley. At least Dane and all his friends did.

  And this was despite the fact Dane knew her tricks, from watching her with lust and admiration all these years. She acted dumber than she was to seem cute and adorable, but then in class she had all the answers. She was in all the AP classes, naturally, but she had the complete ditz act down. She was a conundrum, Dane realized, but he was in love.

  “Dane, come on, we gotta go,” his dad called up the stairs.

  “Yeah, coming,” Dane said, flipping off the bathroom light and wondering if he should grab a notepad or anything. Do you take notes at a college fair? And do all the people from all the colleges see each kid’s class rank before they speak to us? Dane wondered, imagining a big sign hanging around his neck with his abysmal class rank and GPA displayed for all to see. Hello, I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Dane, number 189 of 207. I know, not too impressive, but I have a great personality and I play the guitar. Oh, and did I mention, I don’t want to go to college? I’d like to move to LA and get my music career going, thank you very much. What? Oh, yes I’m here because my mommy and daddy are making me try to get into school.

  He couldn’t believe his mom was making him do this. He stomped down the stairs and barely glanced her direction before following his dad out the door. That’ll teach her, sort of, he thought. She hated when he gave her the silent treatment. And actually it was hard for Dane, too. Like his mom, he was a talker, always had been, in class and out. Probably why he was always in trouble. But heck, school was too boring not to have some entertainment and he was the best performer at the school, despite what those theater kids thought of themselves.

  His dad fiddled with the radio station, finally finding the classic rock station they listened to whenever they were alone in the car together. It was one of the things they bonded over. Dane knew his dad wanted him to be more macho like his brother, but he’d never had the interest in sports that Seth had. Music was his macho thing and with classic rock, they found their shared passion.

  “Any new songs popping out of that brain of yours?” his dad asked as they pulled into traffic out of the gates of their community. All of his friends told him he was lucky to live in Diamond Bay. It was the only part of town the local cops couldn’t invade and make underage drinking arrests. That upped Dane’s popularity, for sure. He could host parties, and he did, but he had to be careful to do it when his mom wouldn’t know. She freaked out about that, too. It was hard to think of anything she didn’t freak out about lately.

  “No, I have that new riff, and a couple of lines, I should have something new soon, though, for sure in time for the gig,” Dane said. He couldn’t wait to perform at Mozambique, a restaurant and bar in town. It was going to be the first time he could invite the high school crowd to a performance. His social anxiety spiked in his stomach: Would anybody show up? He absolutely could not wait to escape high school.

  “That’ll be great. Mom said you came up with a Christmas song, too?”

  “Yeah, that was just to get her off my back,” Dane said, and he caught eyes with his dad.

  “You know she loves you, son,” his dad said, and patted his leg in that way dads do to make a point. “It’s just tough, you know. Her dad was a high school teacher. She loved school. You hate it. It’s what it is. But I am in complete agreement about college, as you know. It’s a must. There are some great music schools, or if that doesn’t work, some great community colleges around here. Get your grades up and boom, transfer right into any school you want.”

  Dane stared straight ahead, not trusting himself to open his mouth. His dad pulled into the school parking lot and into a spot. Dane jumped out, stretching and fighting that pit-in-the-stomach depression that hit every time he was about to walk onto campus.

  “Look, the passive aggressive prison guards are all so glad to see us,” Dane said, referring to a group of teachers and the principal, Dr. B, standing in front of the school. His dad chuckled as they walked across the crosswalk.

  “Hello everyone, welcome,” said Dr. B. She was all right, Dane thought, for the head prison guard. At least she treated kids like adults, reasoned with them, used logic, unlike most of the teachers who treated them like toddlers. At six feet, four inches, Dane despised being treated like a child.

  “Hey, Dr. B,” Dane said.

  “Hey, music man! Be sure to check out USC. They have an incredible music school. You would love it, and you’d be with Seth,” Dr. B said, patting him on the shoulder and shaking his dad’s hand.

  Was she kidding? Didn’t she see the sign around his neck? He’d be begging the community colleges to let him in.

  “We will, thanks, Barbara,” his dad said enthusiastically, sounding more and more like his mom and more and more annoying every moment.

  “Dad, we have to go inside,” Dane said, pushing his hair out of his face while pulling his dad’s arm. “Look, you don’t need to be that way. I’m not getting into any of these schools, got it? You know my GPA. It’s too late to fix it. The ship has sailed. The die is cast. Whatever other stupid phrases you want to say.”

  “You’re so good at English,” his dad said. “Let’s go introduce you to the USC rep. Nothing to lose, right?”

  They walked into the gym and Dane wanted to turn around immediately. The place was packed, swarming with eager high school seniors and a lot more parents than he would have expected. People were serious about this stuff, he knew, but looking around now he felt as if he were watching a school of sharks circling their prey, cutting in, chomping a brochure and signing their names on a list, before swimming to the next booth.

  At least he and his dad were tall. He could breathe up here, above the crowd. He felt sorry for the short girls. How would they compete?

  “Hey, Dane,” Marni said, as the crowd pushed them together. Dane wished Marni would realize how pretty she was, take off the dark black, oversized glasses and stop wearing clothes that made her look like a black box. He suspected she had a great figure under all of those square layers, but who knew. Her mom was principal of the middle school, a place Dane had never been, but he’d heard the woman ruled with an iron fist. All the kids felt sorry for Marni because of her mom.

  “Hey, Marni,” Dane said. “Where are you trying to go?”

  “Over there,” Marni said and pointed to the other corner of the gym. From the looks of the crowd, she’d never make it, he feared.

  “Wow, well, stay on the outside, from what I can see, there is more room to move if you hug the bleachers,” Dane said. “What school is in that corner?”

  “Vanderbilt. It’s my top choice. My parents can’t afford it, but they do offer scholarships and, well,” Marni said, dropping her eyes and blushing while biting her lip. Dane noticed she did that quite a bit, whenever she talked about anything besides the weather or the next class. He wondered what made her unable to speak up, what she was keeping inside.

  “If anybody can get a scholarship, it’s you,” Dane said.

  “Dane, come on,” said his dad, who’d made a move toward the center of the gym and was closing in on the USC booth.

  “Gotta go. Good luck,” he said to Marni and gave her a little push in the right direction.

  Dane made it to his dad’s side at the same time they reached the USC booth. Two official-looking people stood staring at him, ignoring his dad. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His dad elbowed him in the side as he stared at the reps’ name badges.

  “I’m Dane. My brother goes to USC. He’s super-smart; I’m not. I’m musical and I
heard you have music?” What was his problem? he wondered. His brain had stopped functioning. The USC reps just blinked. The female rep—Ms. Reece her name badge read—seemed concerned, as if she were witnessing someone having a heart attack.

  “Dane is a gifted musician and we think the Thornton School of Music would be a perfect fit,” his dad said.

  “Yes, it’s a great program. Here’s a brochure. Sign this form here and we’ll get you on the official interest list. Unfortunately, you do have to have the grades for regular USC admission to even be considered for the music program,” the woman rep said. Her tone was at once overly enthusiastic and demeaning. How had she conveyed so much condescension with so few words, Dane wondered. He puffed up his chest. He knew they were looking at him, his class rank and his awful GPA somehow transmitted to them even as he signed his name to the interest list. He needed to calm down.

  “Hey, man,” Collin said, grabbing the pencil from his hand and putting his name down right under Dane’s. Dane glared at his friend. Collin wanted NYU, why was he here making him look bad in front of both his dad and this college rep? With Collin’s soccer and almost all AP class schedule, he was a college admission person’s dream. And he knew it. He oozed confidence. “And hello to you, Ms. Reece, Mr. Duper. I’m Collin Wilson, you can call me Collin. USC is on my shortlist. Why should my friend and I attend your fine school?”

  “Hello, young man,” Mr. Duper answered as Ms. Reece smiled broadly at Collin. He had them both in the palm of his hand. Collin had turned on the charm and it was working. He was such an operator. As they began asking about his high school activities—Dane imagined the sign glowing around Collin’s neck. Dane was even more depressed.

  “Dad, come on,” Dane said, pulling on his dad’s arm.

  “Collin was amazing back there. Brilliant. They’ll totally remember him,” his dad said.

  “Ya, he’s good at this stuff,” Dane said. “Can we go?”

  “There’s not one other school you’d like to visit? Come on, let’s do a lap, see if anybody has a good music program with more forgiving academic requirements,” his dad said, winking and plunging back into the crowd.

  Winking? Was this our little secret? Dane wondered. Dane shook his head and followed his dad until he got stuck behind someone. It was Collin. He certainly was making the rounds, Dane thought.

  But he wasn’t moving. Collin stood frozen in the middle of the swim lane, hands clenched in fists by his side.

  “Hey, Collin, gotta keep moving,” Dane said. He was careful to keep his voice neutral, friendly. His friend was rigid, angry. Doug was standing next to him, egging him on.

  “That’s awful, dude,” Doug said.

  “Fucking can’t believe she’d bring him here,” Collin said, turning and facing Dane.

  “Who?” Dane asked, looking around but not knowing what he was seeing.

  “My mom, my fucking bitch of a mom has her fucking boyfriend here,” Collin said, staring into the crowd. Dane followed his stare and saw his mom, a gorgeous brunette—the woman could be a former movie star—laughing and locking arms with a guy in a motorcycle jacket. They looked as happy as Collin was angry.

  “My mom made me come tonight, too,” Dane said, trying to relate. He couldn’t, but he needed to get around Collin without being rude. “Hey, try to calm down man, Dr. B is looking over here.”

  “Yeah, calm down,” Doug said. Dane looked at Doug. He was beginning to get annoyed by the kid, even if he was new and didn’t know anybody. He was clinging to Collin like a pet monkey.

  “I’m calm, man, this is me calm,” Collin said ignoring both of them while continuing to stare at his mom.

  Dane was certain he never wanted Collin to stare at him that way. Ever. His eyes were crazed, his pupils dilated. Dane saw Dr. B., the principal, starting to make her way toward them through the sea of kids and parents. Dane saw Kiley, her hair surprisingly blonde, who flashed him a peace sign and yelled, “Hey, Stud!” Dane smiled as his face blushed at the attention.

  Collin and Doug were still blocking the flow of traffic, Doug’s arm around Collin’s shoulder.

  “Dane!” his dad called.

  “Man, I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go, my old man,” Dane said, slowly backing away from Collin until he could turn and get lost in the crowd. It was just then Dane realized he hadn’t seen Collin at school for the last couple of days, not until tonight. He should call him later, talk to him.

  “Dane, you have to keep up. We need to bring brochures home to Mom. Prove we did a good job. Come on,” his dad said. His forehead looked shiny. He was sweating. This place makes him sick, too, Dane thought. It was another symbol of his parents’ dreams dying, a reminder of all the places he would never go or attend.

  “Dad, we can leave. We got this,” Dane said, holding up the USC brochure.

  “We need more than that, son,” his dad said, shoving him toward a homely looking older woman standing at a booth promising this was his stepping stone to a four-year college.

  “Hi, are you considering Saddleback Community College?” she asked.

  I’m considering suicide, Dane thought, but said, “Yes, sure, Okay.”

  His dad was pressing his hand against his back, trapping him in front of the homely woman. “We think this would be a great option for Dane,” his dad said. “This is Dane Bronson. Do you need him to sign anything?” Dane watched his dad scoop up three pamphlets promising his stairway to success. He’d rather be at home playing “Stairway to Heaven” on his guitar, a song that drove his mom crazy even though it was the best rock song in the history of the world.

  “Oh, no, our students just find us,” she said brightly. “I will give you my card if you should have any questions, Dane.”

  “Uh, thanks,” Dane said, taking her card and shoving it into his back pocket. The only thing worse than college would be community college. Living at home, having no life while all his friends headed out for the “best four years of their lives.” That’s why Dane was getting out, too. Just taking a different path, a gap year of sorts, in LA. He had to try to make it. He had the dates marked down for the singing and talent reality show auditions, some of them happening in a couple months. The time was now. Well, after graduation. His mom was lame but he owed it to her to graduate with the class, do the whole commencement thing.

  The place was swarming with moms, he noticed, as he followed his dad’s green sweater through the crowd. Young-looking moms, old-looking moms, thin moms, fat moms, happy moms, sad moms. They all had the same glassy, frantic look in their eyes—the look of dreams just within their grasp. Dane was thankful once again that his dad had stepped in. He wouldn’t have been able to bear seeing his mom’s disappointed eyes in the glaring light of the gym.

  ASHLEY

  Ashley was about to pull all of her hair out.

  Ironically, then she’d be just like her mom, whose hair was so thin it was like a hint, a whisper of long blonde hair without her extensions. Pretty soon, Ashley thought, her mom would be bald, the extensions would have no hair to hold onto, the stress of whatever was eating her from the inside out overpowering the woman. She’d tried to help her, to get her to open up, but she wouldn’t. So Ashley had given up, tuned her out as much as possible and was laser-light focused on her future. Except for all these stupid moms coming up and asking her questions during her senior college fair night. Sure, she’d planned the whole college fair but now it was time for her to visit all of the booths, and these stupid moms were getting in her way.

  Mrs. Smith: “Ashley, where’s the Stanford booth?”

  Mrs. Lightfoot: “Honey, do you know where Georgetown is?”

  Mrs. Chavitz: “How many should we visit, Ashley?”

  What did she look like? The college counselor? No, she was just a kid trying to make a good impression on everybody, trying to be helpful to all of these college reps even though she already had an offer from the best school in the country and Stanford wasn’t here. So really, there wasn’t eve
n a reason for her to be here tonight except for résumé building, and, honestly, she knew she couldn’t squeeze anything else on there. She was over this night and just wanted to go home.

  “Hey, babe,” Blake said, coming up behind her and pulling her into his body, like he owned her or something.

  Oh, great, that looked professional, she thought, feeling like screaming, pitching a fit right here in the gym. “Blake, not now,” she hissed, pulling away from him.

  “Geez, what’s wrong with you?” Blake asked, his face a crumbled version of itself.

  “This is no place for PDA, got it? We are trying to make a professional impression. You and I spoke to all of the seniors about this, remember?” She was starting to believe he was stupid. Not drooling, idiot stupid, but just not bright and definitely not savvy. That was beginning to bother her, but not as much as the fact of him bothering her dad. And for that reason alone, she needed to keep him around for a while. He was leverage.

  “Hey, Dane!” she said, calling to her buddy who was following his dad in what looked like a forced-march college fair visit.

  Dane smiled and waved at her. She loved his dimple. Actually, there was a lot to love about Dane. He was funny and kind, and musically talented beyond belief. They all knew he’d be famous someday. Ashley wondered why he’d never asked her out, why they’d never kissed when she had kissed almost everyone worthwhile in their grade. They could have fun together, she thought, giving him a big smile, her flirtiest. She watched his face flush red and then he disappeared into the crowd.

  “Babe, I’m going to go help the Alabama rep with her brochures. She said they’re too heavy for her to carry,” Blake said, and he tried to lean in for a kiss as she jumped away from him.