The tour was catching up with us pretty quickly and the management company had already gotten us a manager for the tour. His name was Tim, he was actually a pretty cool guy and we all got along with him really well.
Along with that, we were in our own mindsets of preparation: extra drum sticks for me, extra guitar strings, and lots of Arizona Tea. We had everything, including all of our merch, packed in the trailer two days early. Two days! I’m sorry, but we might as well have been the most dysfunctional band ever. Every other day of our practices, someone seemed to be tripping over the various cables resulting us in taking turns of going to Guitar Center and picking up some more.
I was packing for tour on Thursday, the day before we left for tour when John’s head appeared in between the crack of my door.
“What up?” I asked as I folded yet another tank top and put it into my suitcase.
“This came in the mail for you,” he tossed me a brown, UPS package.
“Oooh, I never get mail,” I gushed as I hunted for a pair of scissors in my messy room.
“Yup,” he walked in and sat down on the edge of my bed.
I open the package to reveal a t-shirt with the SJC Custom Drums logo printed on it. On top was a letter from the company.
It read:
Miss Mandy Hawthorne, we are delighted to welcome you to the SJC Custom Drums team! As your sponsor, we’ve sent you this t-shirt and there are more goodies to come. Thank you for joining, and we can’t wait to see you on the road using your custom set.
“What is it?” John lifted his head up and peered inside the package.
“Officially sponsored baby,” I held up the t-shirt in front of me. The sleeves were huge, I was gonna have to alter this thing. It was going to be a tank top in no time.
“Wow, congrats, sis,” he gave me a high-five.
“Thanks,” I folded the shirt back up and set it aside for later examination. “You’re not still going on the tour with us, are you?” I had hoped that he would back out by now and realize that I was absolutely prepared.
“I’m still going,” he crossed his arms over his chest defensively.
“John, you cannot come,” I complained, stuffing another pair of shorts into my suitcase.
“Yes, I can. And what’s so bad about having your big brother come on the road with you?” he questioned.
I sighed. “Everything. First off, I don’t want you to embarrass me, and it looks like you’re just there to ‘baby-sit’ us.”
“Just think of me as your groupie,” he tried me.
I laughed. “Please don’t make one of those shirts that says ‘I’m the drummer’s big brother!’” I joked, causing him to erupt with laughter. “You know the kind I’m talking about.”
“No, that definitely won’t happen,” he re-assured me. “Plus, I already talked to dad and he said that you guys should have a chaperone.”
I gave him the death stare.
“Hey, it’s either me or the old man,” he threw his hands up. “You decide.”
YOU ARE READING
She's Got the Rhythm
Teen FictionMandy Hawthorne never wanted to play the drums. After being forced into playing by her dad and brother, she actually finds herself enjoying it. She hasn't told anyone that she's a drummer because she's afraid of what other people are going to think...
