The Rockstar Chronicles

Breakfast with the Boys

The building was freezing. The air conditioning hummed steadily through the building. No one had thought to turn it off despite the change in the weather. Mom’s heels clicked thinly against the floor, echoing against the glass walls and tile floors. I hurried after her.

The elevator ride was short, but I found time to ask her the most pressing question I had at the moment. “What about breakfast, Mom?”

She rubbed her forehead, her lips pressed together. “It’s upstairs. They provide breakfast for us. And any other meals we’re here for.”

My mind went back to the first day and my mouth watered. I barely felt the elevator glide to a stop. The doors slid open and as I entered the hallway, Kandee came towards me. She clapped her hands, grinning happily. “Food’s ready. Just down the hall.”

A rush of boys thundered past me, streaming towards their breakfast. I didn’t even try to compete with them, I just fell in step behind them. I suspected my life was worth much less to them at the moment than a slice of bacon. I had learned young.

Never get in between a teenage boy and his food.

I was last in the room, but I did manage just a glimpse of the food before the boys fell on it like ravaging wolves. It was only us kids. I learned later that the adults dined in the meeting room down the hall, discussing such tantalizing details as calendars, marketing, and schedules over their coffee.

I waited patiently for the boys to fill their plates. Finally, the staggered away from the table, their plates stacked with food and their mouths already full. The table was a disgrace. Bits of scrambled egg littered the area under the bowl. Greasy bacon and sausage dripped over the platters, staining the napkins underneath them, and a wide orange juice stain soaked the tablecloth.

Huge swaths of food were missing from their containers. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the table, picking up some items and tossing the rest hither and yon. I sighed, forcing myself to content with the scraps I could gather from the ruins.

I filled a plate and went to the table, taking a seat next to Grady. He glanced at me, his mouth full of bacon, and grinned. “Good, huh?”

It’s amazing what food can do for his mood, I thought as I nodded. He had definitely woken up and was joking with the other boys, whose moods had also significantly improved. I picked at my food as I listened to them talk.

“Hey, Lindy. Nice to see you,” Bridge drawled. “What have you been up to?”

“Just hanging out at the house,” Grady interrupted me before I could speak and I shot him a dirty look. He didn’t notice.

“I’ve explored a little bit,” I said defensively. I didn’t want to sound lazy.

Bridge nodded, wiping his fingers on his jeans. “You should come up to the house some time. All of you should. We could hang out. I’ve got some cool games we could play.”

With this statement, the noise at the table increased. All the boys spoke at once, excitedly declaring their favorite games and telling Bridge about their recent tournaments. I sat in stunned silence. I’ve just been invited to Nate Berkeley and Shayna Sparkes house. By their son!

“Dad said the new guy’s coming in today,” Bridge declared during a lull in the conversation several minutes later. Ryder paused, waffle in mid-air while Hardyn choked on his orange juice. Both turned to Bridge with interest. Only Grady remained still. A little too still. He stopped chewing and the piece of bacon he was holding drooped, forgotten, in his hand.

“What’s his name?” Ryder demanded as he pounded Hardyn on the back, ignoring the fact that Hardyn was trying to both catch his breath and push Ryder away.

“Yeah,” Hardyn wheezed. “Who is it?”

Bridge shrugged, tucking his hair behind one ear. “I don’t know. Dad just said he’s coming in today.”

“Huh,” Ryder said, a gleam in his eye. “That’s weird.”

“Probably an unknown,” Hardyn remarked as he focused once more on his breakfast. He stuffed more food than I thought possible onto his fork and then shoved it in his mouth as he glanced at the clock on the wall. “We better hurry,” he mumbled as he struggled to swallow.

“Oh, yeah,” Ryder raised his eyebrows. “Only ten more minutes to meeting.”

“Meeting?” I asked.

“We meet every morning,” Bridge said. “We go over the days agenda and all the rest of the boring stuff.”

“Oh,” I nodded, still watching Grady with narrowed eyes. Something is going on. He hadn’t touched his food. As I watched him out of the corner of my eye, he pushed his plate away. Crossing his arms in his lap, he bent over, holding his stomach. He looked sick and miserable.

“Are you okay?” I whispered, nudging him.

He nodded, barely glancing at me.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” I persisted. I kept my voice low and hoped the others wouldn’t notice. They didn’t. They were too intent on finishing their breakfast and their conversation on the musical direction of the band.

Grady shook his head and groaned. “Not yet.”

I furrowed my brow, confused. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll know when you see it,” Grady sighed.

I tried to wheedle more information out of him, but he clammed up. He wouldn’t say another word and soon after Kandee came to the door to collect them. She told me to wait there. It was obvious from the confused look on her face that she didn’t know what to do with me.

“I’ll know when I see it?” I repeated Grady’s final words, wondering what they could mean. But, try as I might, I couldn’t figure it out.

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