In Sickness and Health. [Warped Tour 08] I took in the scene around me.
Above the smell alcohol, sunscreen, and a faint hint of smoke that differed greatly from nicotine, the tang of sweat was probably the most potent of it all. I heard calls of recognition as friends found each other in the small but eccentric crowd gathered at the front gates of the amphitheater, just faintly over the music.
Aw, the music- a five-letter word so powerful that thousands gather in masses to become part of the magic, to help weave the spell that can only be known as the Warped Tour.
"Hey!"
I was jostled from my meditative state as a hand landed roughly, yet friendly, on my shoulder. Attached to this hand was an arm that was attached to a shoulder that just so happened to be attached to my friend, Ryan. His hand that was attached to his arm that was attached to his shoulder that was attached to him left the shoulder that just so happened to be attached to me and embraced a torso that just so happened to be attached to my best friend, Amanda.
As their lips locked, I turned and made an effort to scan the crowd, searching for a familiar face to occupy my attention with. I still had a 0 in familiar face count by the time they remembered I was there.
"Oh," Amanda uttered, and she and Ryan laughed apologetically.
I smiled. "So what do you guys want to do?"
A half an hour later, we were lying in the grass near the main stage and a familiar rift of electricity filled my ears. I ignored it and continued to rip the blades of grass away from their family and friends in the ground, hearing their pleading cries but refusing to acknowledge them, and deposited them in a little pile of grass-corpses that I had spent the last ten minutes making.
Amanda sat up. "Wait- didn't you say you wanted to see Relient K?"
I certainly did, but I didn't want to be an inconvenience. This day wasn't about me, it was about all of us. By all of us, I meant that I was going to make it about them because I saw myself as hardly important. Yeah, my self esteem is about as high as a stoner in rehab, don't you agree?
I shrugged. "Yeah, but it's all good-"
Ryan leapt from the grass, pulling Amanda up with him. "Let's go, then." He smiled at me, our eyes sending a mutual understanding.
Being my two best friends in the entire world for the past three years, they knew how I was and they knew that my self confidence level was defiantly in need of skyrocketing- and they were going to drag me to Amsterdam.
HA! Get it? Because it sounds like a drug reference, but it's really just a metaphor?
…Fine. Don't catch my drift, then. Just sit there on your couch and not even bother to grab your drift-catching net and get off your fat ass and at least try to catch it.
Lazy drift-catching-impaired bastards.
Luckily, Amanda and Ryan didn't even need a net, for they were able to comprende.. [Spanish for understand, smarty pants.] that even when I said, "No, it's okay," that I dearly wanted to see this band, up there on the stage, hopefully not playing one of their Jesus-songs.
So they shoved me in the trunk and drove me to Amsterdam. My self esteem took the joint [metaphor, Mom and Dad, just a metaphor.] and grew slightly higher as we shoved through the barrier of lame-o's to where the real concert took place.
"Can you see them, or do you need to get closer?"
Thanking the forces that he didn't take this opportunity to acknowledge my lack of height, I lied, "I'm good, thanks."
"…because you're really, really, really short-"
My self esteem thanks you, Ryan. You have convinced it to stop getting high and go straight-edge.
"-and, uh, I don't think you can see."
I had to admit, he was right. All I could see was the sweat dripping off of the man in front of me, which was so not a pleasant sight.
"Because, you know, we want you to see the band- you know, get up there and be all like," he began speaking in a weird accent, "'Hey! Ohmigawd, he's so hawt! Ohmigawd, I lurrrve you, I wanna have your babies! Ohmigawwwd-'"
Amanda and I couldn't resist laughing our asses off.
Our hands instinctively flew up as a teen girl, who seemed to be wearing as little as possible, was tossed by a group of dirty old men over our heads, their fingers still raised in search of more young, drunk flesh.
Ew. That's all I have to say to that.
It was then that Amanda turned to me. Reading the smirk on her face, the determined glisten in her eyes, and the light bulb that was invisibly poised above her head, I knew what she was thinking.
"No," I answered. "Nuh-Uh, no freaking way."
I had seen crowd surfers get seriously hurt, and as hilarious as it was, I didn't want that to be me.
"We need to find some tall fat guys!" Ryan declared.
"There are the ones that got the other girl up," Amanda pointed to some sweaty drunk men- three of the many.
"No, dude- my dad's here, and he might just kill me-"
"Hey! Can you help her up?"
"NO! I don't want old men groping me!"
Before I knew what was happening, my feet left the safety of the ground.
The sensation of being handed from person to person is one that cannot be fully understood by someone who has not done it themselves. It is an experience unlike any other. The hands aren't that noticeable- if I was being groped by creepy men in their forties, I wouldn't have noticed. Tossed from wave to wave, I felt as if time itself had stood still. This was my moment, and no one else existed.
At least, until some idiot hurled me towards a patch deprived of people.
My head inches from the ground, I found myself suspended in air by my ankles, staring at the hairy kneecaps of a man who was way too old to be wearing shorts. Luckily, someone finally helped the obese male gripping my ankles pull me back to the surface before my eyes completely burned out of their sockets.
One of the event staff pulled me over the fence that encircled the mosh pit. I stood there for a moment, my feet refusing to remember what solid earth felt like.
"Please exit through here, M'am."
I was reluctantly shoved back into the pit, followed moments later by Ryan.
"Where's Amanda?" he asked me.
"I thought she was with you,"
We spotted her sailing towards the event staff, only to be pushed backwards.
"What's she doing?"
I looked closer and realized that some guy was practically carrying her backwards, every time she came closer to the front, he being there to push her back. The man's smile vanished as a hand smacked him squarely in the face, leaving a red mark that was distinct enough to be seen from here.
We saw her laugh as the man's mouth fluttered angrily with a string of obscenities unheard over the music as she landed over the gate.
That's my ultimate chica burrito for you- smacker of old, sweaty assholes.
After Relient K was done with their set, we ventured to the boardwalk thingymerbobber and bought sunglasses from Mr. Jamaican Sunglass Man, soon to be bombarded by monks wanting us to buy their books.
We found a waterstand that was giving away free ice- which of course, meant one thing-
Ice fight.
I watched with a smile as Ryan and Amanda slipped ice down each other's shirts and tossed handfuls lovingly at each other, then pausing to embrace in another kiss.
I watched them with a tad bit of friendly jealousy that welled from inside me, despite my loathing of this feeling. All I wanted was someone to love me the way they loved each other, and seeing them, I knew that there was a thing called love, that it did, in fact, exist, but for some reason, I had yet to find it for myself.
Amanda paused for a moment, looking a bit disorientated.
"Are you okay, babe?" Ryan asked, his voice dripping with concern.
She feigned a smile. "Yeah- I just have a bit of a headache, that's all."
She winced as the smaller stage next to us began another set.
"C'mon," Ryan said, leading her away. "Let's go inside."
We sat against the wall inside the main building, listening to Amanda insist she was alright.
"We know you're lying!" Ryan persisted. "You fell asleep in mid sentence a second ago,"
"You're almost as stubborn as I am, and I can tell that you're feeling a hell of a lot worse than you're telling us."
She made an effort to shake her head. "No, no, no- I'll be fine in a little while. I used to get like this a lot when I was little. I just need to make sure that the headache doesn't get any worse,"
Ryan pulled her glasses off.
"Look at that! Your pupils are dilated- like, really dilated."
I turned towards her and saw that not only were her eyes deep pools of shimmering black, but the white of her eyes were covered in dark, distinct veins, tingeing them a dark pink.
"Oh my god, Amanda!"
She lurched forward slightly.
"Did you just almost throw up?" Ryan pulled her closer to get a better look at her.
She pulled away. "No, really- I just need to sleep."
"I think she's going into a heat stroke," I stood. "I'll get her some more water."
She leaned her head back against his shoulder and was asleep before I had gone a couple steps.
When I returned, I could tell even over the music that Amanda was trying to convince him that she was alright, when Ryan was trying the exact opposite.
As I handed her the bottle of water, Ryan turned to me, attempting to gain support in his point. "She almost threw up twice while you were gone,"
I swore under my breath and sat down, ignoring the garbage piled around that area. I heard Ryan gasp, and I spun around to see Amanda, hunched over, unconscious.
"Babe! Wake- wake up!" Ryan grabbed her shoulders and shook.
She didn't respond for a moment. When she finally opened her eyes to see both of us at her side, she smiled, disorientated.
"I'm… okay?" it was more of a question than a statement.
Ryan and I had decided that I needed to get my dad and take her home, but she refused.
"Amanda, healthy people don't pass out!"
"I literally shook you and you still didn't wake up!"
"Really- this happens to me all the time."
"That doesn't mean it's a good thing!"
"I'll be okay in a little while."
"You said that an hour ago!"
She convulsed, covering her mouth.
Ryan and I exchanged looks.
"…I'm going to get my dad."
My padre and I rushed to the scene to find Amanda hunched up against a relieved-looking Ryan. He and I explained the situation to my father, who tried his best to evaluate the girl who now looked a lot better against what we were telling him.
But the thing was, she actually did look okay- so what can you do when your eyes agree with the lies she's telling you?
My dad bought her some more water, told me where he'd be if she got worse, and departed uncertainly. A moment later, Ryan got a call from his dad, telling him that he had to leave early and was on his way to pick him up.
"If you get worse and Shelby has to get her dad again, who's going to be there with you?" Ryan and I were both still debating whether or not she was fit to stay as we walked him to the gates.
"Well, that's not going to happen, because I'm feeling better already."
Although that statement would have been true a couple of minutes ago, it was surely not true now, and as we walked, it became even less true. A lie detector could call her bull from an ocean away- although the bull would not come to the call, because bulls can't swim- especially in salt water. They just graze- or whateverthehell it is that bulls do.
Ryan's cell rang and he wandered behind one of the trailers to answer it. I looked at Amanda, trying to let myself believe that she was alright.
She sat up, gripping her stomach.
"What's wrong?" I kneeled down, panicked.
She turned around and threw up a little bit behind her.
"Amanda!"
"I'm fi-"
"Save it, you're not!"
Ryan came around the corner. "I have to go,"
He embraced her in a kiss, and I made an attempt to get his attention.
"If she gets-"
"She just threw up!"
He looked at me, then at her.
She instantly began to defend her health. "I'm okay- it was just from drinking all that water too fast."
He looked down as his cell began to ring again, and then ignoring it, turned to me. "If she gets any worse, you take her home right away, understand?"
"I promise,"
As he left, I felt my sanity leave as well. I didn't know what I would do if she got worse- and the thought of her suffering and me not being able to help her scared me shitless.
I walked her back inside and bought her a pretzel. Finding a spot in the back, we both collapsed up against a wall.
She ate fervently, topping it off with another bottle of water. After she was finished, she pushed the plastic container aside, flies instantly swarming what little cheese was left clinging to the sides.
I leapt into nurturer mode.
"Do you need anything else? I can get you something else to eat if you want- do you need more water? Are you okay? What can I do?"
She processed my questions for a moment and then shook her head, turning over on her back. "I just need to lie down for a few minutes."
As a few minutes turned to ten and fifteen, I shook her awake lightly.
"Amanda?"
She moaned. "I just- I need some ibuprofen."
I scanned the building and located one of the event staff.
"If I go and get someone, will you be alright on your own for a minute?"
"Yeah- I just need something for my head,"
"I know- it'll be okay when I get back."
When I asked him if the medical booth had any ibuprofen or Advil, he said that they weren't allowed to give out any sort of medications.
"Who is it for? Show me."
"My friend, she's- she's not doing too well,"
I pointed to where we had been sitting, and the staff member was not the only one who was shocked to see how much of an understatement "not doing too well" was.
"Oh, crap-"
We rushed towards the sick girl, who was crumpled up as if she was one of the many discarded bits of paper, limp on the ground. I barely was aware of him shouting into his radio.
"We need an EMT in the south wing, ASAP-"
When three other EMTs and I gathered around her, she instantly went into a state of denial- and hell's bells, was she a good actress to someone who hadn't known her for years.
After thoroughly evaluating her and giving me instructions of how I should take care of her and signs to watch for, they told me that they'd be right outside on the main walk if we needed them. I thanked them, wishing with all I had in me that I could make her better.
"I just- need ibuprofen," she whispered. "It hurts so badly,"
I fought to keep the tears concealed behind my eyelids. "Do you want more food? More water?"
"I don't think I can keep it down,"
I was silent for a moment, my mind already made up no matter what her answer was. "Do you want me to get my dad?"
Silence.
She submitted, her lips parting enough to choke out, "Yes,"
We raced to the scene, my dad taking the cell and calling my stepmom to come pick us up immediately. I leapt to her side, my mind racing with incoherent thoughts.
"It's okay now- my stepmom's coming to take us home,"
My dad handed me the cell, a look of disparity etched on his face.
"She's coming, right?"
He was silent for a moment.
"I couldn't get a hold of her,"
I swore.
The phone began to vibrate in my shaky hands. Ripping it open, I shouted, "We need to go, please-"
"What? What's going on? Is she okay?"
It was Ryan, not my stepmom.
"I can't talk right now, but we're taking her home,"
"What?! Is she okay? What happened? Talk to me!"
"I can't, I-"
"Is she okay?"
"I- I don't know-"
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, 'I DON'T KNOW?'"
Amanda reached out towards me. "I think I'm going to be sick,"
I let the phone drop to the ground.
I froze up, my body going into full panic mode. The woman who had been surveying the scene from the moment we had sat down dumped out an abandoned soda cup and poised it beneath Amanda's chin. Dad disappeared and returned seconds later with napkins- all while I stood there like an idiot, frightened out of my mind.
When reality hit me, I dialed my mom's number, begging her to come pick us up. I raced outside and grabbed the EMT that had helped us before and ran to Amanda's side once again.
"Are you the dad?" three of the EMTs were evaluating Amanda while the other one was asking me and my dad questions.
"Uh- I'm her dad, yes- I took them both here,"
"And you're taking them both home, is that correct?"
"Well, my wife has the car, but we called her mom and she's going to come and get them,"
The female EMT turned towards us. "Where is she coming from?"
"Boise,"
They exchanged looks.
"That's about an hour away from here,"
"I know, but it's our only option-"
"How fast can she get to the hospital from here?"
Amanda opened her eyes. "Hospital? I- I don't need to go to the hospital, I just need to go home,"
The EMT looked at her as if she was a child. "I think you do," he turned to my dad, hoping he would second the opinion. My dad just looked as confused as I was.
"I don't think she can make it to the gate," the woman who had supplied the cup stated.
"I don't think so, either." The EMT motioned to the gurney. "We can get her out of here-" she looked at my dad. "But if we do that, there's the fee of a thousand dollars-"
Amanda shot straight up. "NO! I can make it-"
She lurched forward again, gripping the cup.
My dad and I sat in the grass in front of one of the trailers, Amanda passed out beside us. When my mom finally arrived, I stirred her awake.
"It's time to go," I whispered.
She tried to smile. "I appreciate this so much-"
My dad smiled. "Your color's starting to come back a little bit,"
Despite the heat, the fresh air beat tar out of the air-conditioned crap of the building.
She and I walked ahead as my parents talked.
"Thank you guys- I-" she stopped for a moment.
I grabbed her arm. "What's wrong?"
She rushed to the garbage can.
We drove home, Amanda passed out in the back of the car. My mom went into the gas station to buy her some more water. I checked my phone.
(8) MISSED CALLS
I called Ryan back and apologized for hanging up on him. After explaining the situation, he asked if he could talk to her.
"She's asleep right now,"
He was silent for a moment. "Okay- tell her to call me when she gets home- wait, no- tell her to call me tomorrow, when she's feeling better."
We said our goodbyes.
I turned around. She looked so delicate, yet peaceful even in such a fragile state. I hated myself for having let this happen to her.
I felt a warm, salty tear slide down my cheek.
By the time we got to her house, she was already sitting up, though she still was obviously in a lot of pain.
She and I sat on the steps after I helped bring all her stuff inside.
"I appreciate this more than you can even imagine," Amanda smiled. "You and your parents have done so much for me today-"
"But I feel so horrible- This is all my fault- I endangered you!"
She shook her head. "It's my fault for not listening to you and Ryan in the first place,"
"This is not your fault at all, it's mine-"
She was silent for a moment. "How about we just say it was nobody's fault?"
I smiled. "That sounds fair."
"I actually had a lot of fun today, despite all that happened. I've never been to the Warped Tour before, and it was an amazing experience for me." She laughed. "Next year, I'll know what to watch out for and I'll actually listen to you guys."
I looked up, hopeful. "Next year?"
"Yeah- just because my Warped Tour experience didn't end on the best note, it doesn't mean I'm turned off by the entire concept. I'd love to go with you guys again."
I departed that day with a smile on my face, already looking forward to next year.
