Chapter Text
They’d moved in just before Christmas - had to because his dad was due to start his new teaching job when vacation was over - and his mom was already muttering she didn’t know how they were going to survive living so close to the airport when he first saw them, the family who would change his life.
The U-Haul truck parked in front of the house drew a lot of stares, he could feel them. It was an old neighborhood, three blocks up from El Porto Beach, working-class and shabby, but not completely run-down. Danny was bummed there wasn't a basement. Their old house in Encinitas had one, a rarity in Southern California, but it has been the perfect place for him to play. For all of them, really, a family blessed with musical talent, but they’d all decided he was the one who might actually do something with it.
His mom, she had once possessed some singer-songwriter kind of ambition, but it got derailed in the form of himself and his sister, now stopping in the middle of the front walkway to glance down the street. Two kids stood in the driveway of another house, equally aged as their new-to-them residence, yelling at each other while another, taller, kid looked on impassively.
Two of the kids had guitars.
“Look dude,” she said to him, “there’s a band, like, built-in.”
“Huh,” he replied, forgetting the heat, sore muscles from lugging boxes and furniture into the house, and a pervasive sense of homesickness.
He didn’t even know he had been living in paradise, living a dream, until it was all ripped away from him. No matter how his dad had explained it - that the transfer to a different school district meant better pay, and they might still be able to move to the beach - all he could hear was a sorrowful melody of leaving his friends, his favorite beach, golfing at Torrey Pines, even. Though his interest in the Sport of Kings had waned since he discovered the drums, and finally managed some ability as a surfer. He started out skating, with a paper route to save up for his first soft top, but it had taken years to develop the grace to stop being such a goddamn Barney. Like anything else, it required utter obsession - and Danny was good at that, an unwavering focus.
Danny was a mediocre skater - couldn’t really manage any tricks beyond a decent ollie and a not-so-decent kickflip - it was more what everyone had done in his neighborhood, so he did it too. But music had him in a chokehold, first guitar, then drums. He had watched other friends become interested, then drop by the wayside when it got hard. But he couldn’t stop. Once he learned chords, then tabs, and then to actually play songs, he was hooked.
But even beyond a certain remove as the kid who had so many interests none of his friends could keep up, he had been happy. His parents encouraged him and his sister in whatever they wanted to pursue, and he had it better than most because they all really loved each other. He didn’t realize how strange that was until he noticed that he only saw some of his friends some of the time, having to move between two houses. But his dad drove him to golf lessons, music lessons, up at dawn to go surfing, all of it, without a complaint. They would blast Zeppelin and munch breakfast burritos and talk about everything. His dad had a way of making Danny feel like his opinion mattered just as much as anyone else’s.
Things were changing, but not everything had to change.
“So, you gonna go out with the dawn patrol at El Porto?” he was asked as he and his dad tried to organize the garage. Whatever dispute they had witnessed earlier at the house down the street, it appeared to be cycling through moments of loud conversation, yelling, and then flurries of something that sounded close enough to music to make Danny curious.
Because there were no drums.
“Huh? Oh yeah - try the walk with my stick, anyway.”
“I’ll come with, if you’d rather go in the truck.”
Danny smiled. “I mean, I’ve gotta figure it out eventually. But if it’s a good break, then we can hit it on Sunday, right?”
“Make sure you wear your springsuit, okay? I haven’t heard the greatest things about the water quality in this area.”
Danny nodded with a smirk. “I looooove L.A.”
Whatever his dad had to say was drowned out by yet another jet passing overhead.
Josh and Jake’s arguing had derailed yet another practice session, so Sam decided to do something useful - to him, that is - and wax his stick. Between the repetition of spreading some Mr. Zog’s across his board he watched the progress of the new family moving in up the street. He noticed the kid - tall, long dark hair, built like a running back. And his pretty equally tall sister. And then -
“Jakey,” he yelled in the direction of the garage.
“What?!”
“C’mere - you’re gonna wanna see this.”
“Sammy, I’m tryin’ to -” His brother came out of the garage and stopped dead, looking over to where his brother was pointing. “Oh. Well goddamn.”
“Right? Should we talk to him now?”
“Naw, let’s wait till later. We’ll bring some guitars with us.”
Danny looked out the peephole and saw them crowding the porch. He grinned wide but then reminded himself to be cool. He opened the door to three people who definitely looked related, two of them carried guitar cases.
“Hey neighbor!” the one without an instrument exclaimed, and produced a cake pan. “We made this for you guys.”
“Hi neighbors,” he greeted them. “I’m Danny, how’s it goin?’”
“Set your drums up yet?” Jake asked, slipping past him. Danny looked slightly scandalized.
“Hey, I’m Sam,” the tall one offered with a smile. “That’s Jake, Josh is the other one. Yeah, so we’re in a band.”
“Cool, but no, we’re still trying to figure out where to put my kit.”
Josh was introducing himself to the family, and Danny’s mom was already won over, he could tell. Jake hung back, curious but cool. Danny recognized that Jake actually was cool, he had that thing which could not be named, but was immediately recognizable.
“Oh my god you surf too?!” Sam exclaimed from inside his room, and Danny realized that while he hadn’t been paying attention these kids had just invaded his house.
“Like, for real?” Jake inquired, skepticism evident. “Sure not you’re not a shoob, noob?”
“For real,” Danny replied. “We’re from Encinitas.”
“We’re not about the vibes here, new guy,” the other shot back. “This isn’t soul surfer bullshit, we fuckin’ ride.”
“Jacob, do you think you can not sound like a delinquent in front of the noob’s parents?” Josh hissed.
“Man, why did you guys move here?” Sam asked. “Like, talk about a comedown.”
“Yeah,” Danny said, his expression equal parts trepidation and fascination. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“Who wants cake?” Danny’s mom called out, and they all laughed softly.