“Yeah,” Jonah said. “I was out skateboarding with some buddies and then I got really hungry, but they all had to take off. Baby tater?”
Andi looked down at Jonah’s plate of half-eaten food and shook her head. “Oh…that’s okay. I think Bex is already ordering some for me.”
“Cool.” Jonah checked his watch. “Whoa!”
“What?”
“I didn’t realize how late it was!”
“I know, right?” Andi smiled, realizing that she felt kind of edgy being out so late on a Friday night.
“But…what are you doing here?” Jonah asked, looking confused.
Andi scowled. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
“I told you—I was out skateboarding and got hungry.”
“Well, Bex and I just went to the movies and then we got hungry.” Andi challenged Jonah with her dark eyes.
“Yeah, but…it’s so late,” he said. “I mean, I didn’t think you were the kind of person who would go out this late on a Friday night.”
“Oh, really?” Andi’s hands involuntarily clenched into fists. “What kind of a person am I, then?”
“I don’t know.” Jonah shrugged, his eyes darting around like he was searching for an escape route. “I guess I just think of you as pretty predictable—like you almost always come here on the same days, at the same hours, and you’re almost always with Buffy and Cyrus….”
Jonah trailed off and blinked a few times. He looked like a sad puppy dog. She knew he didn’t mean it as an insult. But the more Andi thought about what he had said, the more upset she got.
“So by ‘predictable,’ you mean…‘boring,’ right?” she finally asked through gritted teeth.
“Huh? No!” Jonah insisted. “I just meant that you’re, um, reliable! I meant it in a good way. You’re the kind of person I can totally count on, no matter what. It’s one of the things I like best about you, Andiman.”
Ugh. Sometimes Andi liked that Jonah called her by the nickname that had previously only been used by Bex, but right then she could tell he was using it to manipulate her into accepting his lame explanation. Especially when he punctuated it with his toothpaste-commercial-worthy smile and batted his long lashes. He wasn’t going to charm his way out of this one.
“You say ‘reliable,’ but you mean ‘boring,’ ” Andi muttered under her breath. “And why would you bother being friends with someone so predictable, so lacking in spontaneity, so boooring—”
“You’re not boring! You’re—” Suddenly, without warning, in an almost exact replay of what had happened to Andi earlier, Jonah’s mouth fell open in a yawn, and he tried to hide it with his hands. But the damage was already done.
Oh my gosh, Andi thought. I really am boring! Why else would Jonah be yawning?
She cleared her throat. “I’d better get back to Bex,” she whispered, sliding off her stool. But when she got back to the booth, she discovered Bex had set her head down on the table and was literally snoring!
Andi gasped. Jonah was yawning in her face, Bex was falling asleep when they were supposed to be out having fun, and she had just been accused of being predictable, which obviously meant boring.
“Wake up!” Andi shook Bex’s shoulder a bit harder than she’d intended.
“What? Huh? Where are we?” Bex asked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. “Oh, hey!”
“Hey!” Andi replied tersely. “So, come on, we need to start planning this road trip!”
“Whoa, slow down.” Bex stretched her arms and yawned. “We need to make sure Bowie can get us tickets first.”
“He can,” Andi said. “He has to.”
Andi had decided that even if Bowie couldn’t make it happen, she would find a way to get to Mountain Jam—not only because it would be the trip of a lifetime, but because it was the most unpredictable thing she could think of doing.
Just wait until Jonah finds out I’m going to Mountain Jam! she thought as she stuck a straw into her shake and took a bigger gulp than she normally did. We’ll see what kind of a person he thinks I am then!
“Wow…isn’t this fun?” Bex’s voice was laced with sarcasm as she passed a platter of pancakes to Andi.
Andi and Bex had been invited over to CeCe and Ham’s house for Saturday brunch—but the moment they arrived, CeCe commented on how exhausted they both looked. Now she was demanding to know why they were so tired. More specifically, she was drilling Bex on how strict she was about enforcing Andi’s bedtime.
“I’m serious,” CeCe said, shaking her glossy black bob. “What time does Andi go to bed?”
“Mom. It’s the weekend. And she’s thirteen.” Bex rolled her eyes and stabbed her fork into a syrup-soaked pancake.
“People don’t suddenly stop needing sleep when they hit their teens or the week draws to a close!” CeCe huffed. “In fact, the National Sleep Foundation says children aged six to thirteen require between nine and eleven hours of sleep per night!”
Bex glared at her mother. “How do you even know that?”
“Because as a responsible parent, I stay on top of the latest research relating to childcare. Don’t you?”
“Um, yeah!” Bex said, her raspy voice cracking. “But I’m not a child anymore…remember? I’m a responsible parent, just like you.”
“Prove it,” CeCe retorted. “What time did Andi go to sleep last night?”
Andi and Bex exchanged nervous glances.
“Well?” CeCe pressed, taking a sip of her tea.
“Hmmm…let’s see.” Bex looked at the ceiling and thought back to the previous night’s activities. “We decided to go to the movies, but the earlier show was sold out, so ours ended at about eleven o’clock, and then we went to the Spoon…and then we went home…so I guess it was about midnight? Maybe twelve-thirty?”
CeCe nearly choked on her tea. “And what time did she get up this morning?”
“About eight,” Andi volunteered without thinking.
“But only because you called so early to invite us over!” Bex shot an accusatory look at CeCe.
“Oh, I see—so it’s my fault?” CeCe growled, staring at her bowl of muesli. Even though the rest of the family was having pancakes, eggs, and bacon, she maintained a strict diet that always began with muesli in the morning.
“No. It’s my fault,” Andi said, frowning as Bex and CeCe both turned to look at her. “I’m responsible for when I go to bed and when I wake up, and I’m the one who decided we should go to the movies. Bex wanted to stay home and rest.”
“She did?” CeCe raised an eyebrow.
“Yes!” Andi insisted.
“It’s true,” Bex admitted sheepishly. “And now she’s even trying to convince me to take her to Mountain Jam next weekend.”
“What?” All the color drained out of CeCe’s face.
“Yup—she’s my kid, all right.” Bex arched her dark eyebrows and flashed a smile.
“Well, you’re not going to take her!” CeCe stood up. “Absolutely not.”
“Um…it’s not your decision to make, Mom.” Sure, Bex still had some concerns about taking Andi to Mountain Jam, but she had many more concerns about letting CeCe dictate where they could or could not go.
“She’s only thirteen, Rebecca,” CeCe snapped. “How can you even think about taking her to that place…driving on those roads…spending an entire weekend with those people?”
Andi widened her eyes and waited to see what Bex would say next. A tiny part of her even wondered if she should have taken Bex more seriously when she said that Mountain Jam might be more of an adventure than Andi could handle.
“Why are you so concerned about that place…and those roads…and those people?” Andi asked, genuinely curious.
“It’s like I told you,” Bex cut in with a groan. “It’s a long drive on winding mountain roads, and it can get hot and crowded and dirty and sweaty and smelly, and you have to sleep in a tent, and blah, blah, blah.”
“You told her all that?” C
eCe’s lips stretched into a tight smile.
“Yeah. And she still wants to go.”
CeCe’s smile withered, and she turned to look at Ham. “Are you going to say anything about this?”
“Oh, sure. Why not?” Ham’s ruddy face broke into a grin, and his blue eyes sparkled. “It sounds like a pretty great time to me!”
“Hmmph.” CeCe tugged down the hem of her crisp red cardigan. Then she grabbed her bowl from the table and marched into the kitchen without saying another word.
“Here, why don’t you let me clean up?” Andi offered, carrying her plate into the kitchen, where CeCe was dumping the soggy remains of her muesli down the sink.
“And me too,” Ham added, walking into the kitchen with a few more dishes.
“Fine—but your doing the dishes isn’t going to make me change my mind about you going to that place!” CeCe spun around and marched away.
“Wow.” Andi looked at Ham and they exchanged the cringe of mutual amusement they’d perfected through the years.
“Yeah.” Ham chuckled and began rinsing the plates. “Hurricane CeCe strikes again.”
After they had done the dishes in silence for a few minutes, Andi finally turned to Ham and asked, “So how much do you know about the music festivals Bex has gone to? I mean, what do you think Mountain Jam would be like?”
Instead of answering, Ham asked his own questions: “What do you think it would be like, and why do you want to go so badly?”
Andi thought for a minute. “Well, I kind of figured it would be a great mother-daughter adventure…and honestly?”
“Yes?” Ham dried his hands on his navy-blue button-down shirt.
“I figured that life with Bex as my mom would be a nonstop adventure,” Andi said. “But lately, things seem like they’re becoming kind of…boring. I’m even starting to think it might be my fault!”
“What?” Ham shook his head and laughed. “There’s no way life with you—or Bex—could ever be boring.”
Andi shrugged. “I don’t know about that….”
“But I guess I can kind of relate to what you’re saying,” Ham added.
“You can?”
“I can. The truth is there have been plenty of times when I’ve wondered if being married to me has made CeCe’s life kind of boring.”
“That’s crazy!” Andi insisted, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “I mean, you’re the fun one. CeCe is the…um…you know.”
Ham nodded and gave Andi a quick wink. “There’s a lot you don’t know about your…CeCe. In fact, you’ve just given me a pretty great idea!”
“I have?” Andi smiled. “What is it?”
But before Ham could answer, there was a loud crash in the dining room.
“What was that?” Ham looked at Andi, and they both raced out of the kitchen only to find Bex and CeCe arguing—and a broken plate on the floor.
“Now look what you did!” CeCe barked.
“I didn’t mean to drop it,” Bex snapped back.
“You never mean for anything to go wrong,” CeCe said, throwing up her hands. “It just happens.”
“That’s not fair—and it’s not true!” Bex shouted, shaking her hands the exact way CeCe had.
CeCe stared at the ground. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That didn’t come out right. My point is that accidents can happen—especially on road trips and at music festivals. That’s why I can’t stand the idea of you taking Andi to Mountain Jam.”
“But she’ll be safe with me,” Bex whispered.
“Will she?” CeCe challenged Bex with her eyes.
As Andi looked from Bex to CeCe, then back to Bex, Ham got a dustpan and brush out of the hall closet and began sweeping up bits of broken china.
“Mom?” Andi finally said, breaking the long silence.
“Yes?” Bex and CeCe replied in unison, eyes still fixed on each other.
Bex’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened at CeCe. “She meant me!”
“Oh.” CeCe cleared her throat.
“Yes?” Bex repeated, turning to look at Andi.
“Maybe we shouldn’t go to Mountain Jam.” Andi didn’t want to give up so easily, but she couldn’t stand that it was creating so much tension between Bex and CeCe—not to mention that CeCe seemed genuinely worried something might go wrong. What if something did go wrong?
“Huh?” Ham glanced up at Andi, clearly surprised that she would change her mind so quickly after the conversation they’d had in the kitchen.
“Really?” CeCe’s eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands together, bringing them to her lips as she looked gratefully at Andi.
But before Andi could reply, Bex grabbed her hand and marched toward the door. “Oh, we’re going to Mountain Jam! We’re going to talk to Bowie about getting us those tickets right now—and nobody is going to stop us!”
Bex tossed a defiant look at CeCe before flinging open the door and pulling Andi outside.
When Bex and Andi arrived at Judy’s Blooms, the nursery where Bowie worked, they found him elbow-deep in a flower bed full of pink and white tulips. His dark chin-length curls were pulled away from his face with a long red scarf, and he wore a dirt-covered purple apron with I’M ALL THUMBS—GREEN THUMBS! emblazoned across the front.
“That’s quite an outfit you’re wearing,” Bex said with a smirk as she and Andi stood over him.
“Heyyy!” Bowie looked up, a goofy grin spreading across his face the moment he set eyes on Bex and Andi. “What’s the haps, Macks?”
Bex cut right to the chase: “We were wondering if you still talk to any of the Renaissance Boys.”
“It’s nice to see you, too, Bex.” Bowie tilted his head and pouted. But then he laughed and flung his arms wide, pulling Bex into a big dirty hug before turning to Andi and covering her in potting soil, too.
Andi laughed and shook the dirt from her peach-colored shorts before giving Bex’s plaid flannel shirt a brush-down.
“Sorry.” Bex rewound and started again with Bowie. “How are things? How’s the landscaper life treating you?”
“It’s awesome!” Bowie put a grimy finger to his lips and said, “Shhh,” then motioned for Bex and Andi to follow him as he literally tiptoed through the tulips to a big glass greenhouse. Inside were rows upon rows of stunning orchids—white ones, purple ones, yellow ones, white with yellow spots, yellow with purple spots, big ones, small ones, some arranged with leafy green plants and others with lucky bamboo.
“Wow!” Andi gasped, unsure where to look first. “Did you grow all of these?”
“I did!” Bowie said. “And I even named them all.”
“All of them?” Bex laughed and whispered to Andi, “I think someone needs to get out more….”
Bowie took Bex and Andi down each row of plants, introducing them to every one. “This little guy’s named Buddy. Get it? Bud? And here we have Stan—short for Stanhopea, of course. Then these little ladies are Leilani, Puanani, and Moana…. Oh, and of course the most beautiful ones are Bex and Andi.”
“Awww.” Andi and Bex both laughed as the tour continued. When they got to the end of the meet and greet, Bex asked, “What on earth are you going to do with all of these?”
“Well, most of them are going to be hanging out in the VIP tents at the Mountain Jam fest next weekend,” Bowie revealed.
Stunned, Andi and Bex whipped their heads around to stare at each other.
“It’s a sign—from the universe!” Andi said in a hushed tone.
“What’s a sign?” Bowie crinkled his nose.
“We just came here to ask you about Mountain Jam—to see if you might be able to ask the Renaissance Boys to get us tickets,” Bex explained.
“Ohhh!” Bowie said. “Hence your question about me keeping in touch with them earlier.”
“Uh-huh,” Bex said. “We saw a poster for the festival last night, and Andi decided that our lives have become dull as…uh…dirt? So she’s convinced that a music festival will cure us!”
&nb
sp; Bowie smiled. “I see…. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”
“Nope!” Bex grinned. “Try as I might—and try as CeCe might—to warn her against it, once the girl sets her mind on something—”
“Hey,” Andi interjected, “I did say that maybe you and CeCe were right to be concerned and that maybe we shouldn’t go.”
“Ah!” Bex nodded. “But by then, I had already set my mind on going—or at least going against whatever CeCe tells me I should do. Or shouldn’t do? Whatever.”
Bowie gave his head a super-quick shake, like a dog does after getting out of water. “Okay, okay, I think I see where you’re going with all this, but I haven’t talked to any of the boys in the band in a while.”
“Oh.” Bex frowned.
“However,” Bowie continued, “I can do even better than talking to them about getting you tickets.”
“You can?” Andi widened her eyes.
“Yup! Since Judy’s Blooms will be providing all these plants for the VIP tents, the event organizer sent us some VIP passes and even hooked us up with primo campsites. So consider yourselves to be my very important people.”
“VIP passes?” Andi squealed. “That’s amazing!”
“I know, right?” Bowie smiled. “Who would have thought I’d still get the rock-star treatment without even being an actual rock star?”
Andi studied Bowie’s face, detecting a hint of melancholy in his expression. “Is it going to be weird to be there as, um, a flower man instead of a Renaissance Boy?” she asked tentatively.
“Nah!” Bowie insisted, leading Andi and Bex out of the greenhouse and to the front of the nursery. “I’m not interested in the band thing anymore. I have my girls and my plants and my sod and…”
Bowie kept talking, but his words were drowned out by the screech of tires as a beat-up old truck pulled into the parking lot.
“What?” Andi shouted.
“I have my rocks. Check it out!” Bowie yelled, pointing at the truck. Piled in the back were boulders in every imaginable shape and size—and the name written on the doors was Rock-Star Landscape Design.
“See?” Bowie grinned. “I can even still be a rock star if I want!”
Rockin' Road Trip Page 2
