by Pamela Wells
“Breckin.” She smiled, shaking his hand. His skin was soft, softer than hers even, and she was a girl. “Breckin what?”
“Waverly,” he said, pride affecting his tone.
That name sounded familiar.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said, pulling her hand back and tucking it in her lap.
“Breckin’s in the Birch Falls Historical Society with me,” Will explained.
Mr. Daniels cleared his throat. “Breckin goes to Waverly. A fine school. I tried to get Will to go but to no avail.”
Right, that’s where Kelly knew the name. Waverly was the private school forty miles north of Birch Falls. It was super expensive to attend and hard to get into. Obviously, Breckin Waverly was an automatic admission, since his family founded the place.
“He’s a real piece, huh,” Ben whispered in her ear and she burst out laughing. The whole table went silent and everyone stared at her.
“Sorry.” She stifled the laugh, giving Ben a look.
“What?” A crooked grin spread across his face.
“I think its about time for us to go,” Mrs. Daniels said. “Come on, honey. Let’s allow the kids some time to hang out without parents watching over them.”
Mr. Daniels handed Will a credit card. “Treat all your friends tonight.” He stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. “Your mom and I are going back to the office to get some work done. Don’t stay out too late tonight, boys.” His eyes lingered a bit too long on Ben, as if the message were really for him.
Everyone said good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Daniels as they headed out. Kelly was secretly thankful they were leaving. Will’s parents scared the crap out of her. They were intimidating, had high standards, and they obviously didn’t care much for Kelly. What had they thought of Brittany? They hadn’t said much to her, and Kelly wondered if their ignoring her was a good or bad sign. At least Brittany hadn’t been chastised for being late.
The waiter came up and passed out menus. Most everyone at the table, except for Breckin, knew what they wanted since they had the menu practically memorized. Kelly usually got the chicken sandwich, since it was low cal and oh-so-delish.
When the waiter came back she ordered the usual with a Diet Coke while Will and Breckin grilled the waiter on what kind of mayo was used, full fat or light? Were the hamburger buns white flour or wheat?
“It’s bread, dude,” Ben said, chomping on a piece of ice from his water.
“Benjamin,” Will said, frowning. “It’s not just bread.”
“Whole wheat is better for you,” Breckin said.
Kelly had to agree with that. She was always health-conscious, but still, the way they were quizzing the waiter on every little detail about the meals was getting a bit tedious.
The waiter shifted around nervously, answering all the questions, but Kelly could tell he was getting annoyed. She didn’t blame him. Finally, Will settled on the chicken sandwich, and Breckin the Cobb salad.
While they waited for their food, Breckin and Will discussed important things—college application essays and the state of historical sites.
“This is painfully boring,” Ben whispered.
“I agree.”
“You aren’t seriously still seeing my brother, are you?” he asked, hiding behind his glass of water. “I mean, it’s cool if you are, but, wow, totally uncool if you are.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Neither does dating my brother.”
“Ohhh.” She scrunched up her face. “I walked right into that one.”
“That you did.”
“Well…we’re not really seeing each other.”
“He’s practically in love with you.”
Kelly frowned. “No, he’s not. He’s constantly with Brittany. He blew me off that night after the art show…”
“He uses Brittany for show. You’re for real, he just won’t admit to it.”
Flicking her eyes down the table, she caught Will watching her. He smiled then looked away. Brittany noticed the exchange and scowled at Kelly.
“Why did you just tell me all that if you don’t think I should go out with him?”
“Because you have a right to know and make your own decision about it.” He cocked an eyebrow before sipping from his water and setting it down. “But it’s worth repeating…it would be uncool if you were still with him.”
“I don’t know what’s going on,” she admitted.
The food came, and Kelly ate in silence while conversation buzzed around her at the table.
What was that saying, exactly, if Will’s own brother thought he was undateable? It was saying a lot. Coming here now, it hadn’t been about Will. She didn’t want to get back with him, but now, knowing that maybe he did care for her? No…it didn’t change anything. There were no butterflies, no giddiness. She was over Will. Somehow, some way, her feelings for him had lessened in the two months since the breakup.
Apparently, The Breakup Code was working.
Finished with her sandwich, Kelly excused herself and went to the bathroom. On her way out, she noticed a familiar face in a booth along the wall.
Drew.
She caught his eye and waved, expecting nothing more than a wave in return, but Drew slid from the booth, leaving his dad alone at the table, talking on his cell.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Here with some friends.” She nodded at their table near the front door.
“Did you just get here?”
“No. Actually, I’m just leaving.” Thank God.
Drew shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, shoulders lifting uncomfortably. “Would you…uh, mind if I left with you?”
Kelly frowned. “What about your dad?”
“He hardly knows I’m here. He’s been on his phone the whole time.”
Kelly couldn’t help but detect a note of anger and maybe disappointment. “Yeah, sure. Let me go say good-bye.”
They headed over to the table. Ben gave Drew a guy handshake and they started talking about sports or something.
“I’m leaving,” she told Will, then turned to Breckin. “It was nice meeting you, by the way.”
Breckin flashed his expensive smile and stood. “Would you mind if I called you sometime?”
The rest of the table went silent watching her, including Ben, which was almost unheard of. He was hardly ever silent.
“Um…” Her face felt hot, but her fingers were ice-cold. Nice of him to put her on the spot. “Actually,” she took in a breath and looked straight at Will as she said, “I’m happier being single right now.”
Will’s expression went still.
“But thanks.”
She grabbed Drew by the arm and said, “Let’s go.”
Horace’s house was on the outside of the Birch Falls city limits, where the houses were far apart and the backyards were as big as fields. His was a two-story farmhouse with a wraparound screen porch. It reminded Raven of one of those storybook houses, with the yellow siding, white shutters, and a cobblestone walk.
As she pulled in the driveway, she noticed several cars parked near the garage farther back from the house. Either Horace was throwing a party or his family owned a lot of cars.
She got out as the side door to the garage opened.
“Hey,” Horace said, meeting her in the driveway. “We’re in the garage.”
“We?” She raised her brow.
“Just wait and see.” He held the door open for her and she went inside. Heat blasted from a vent just overhead. The first thing she noticed was the drum set, the amps, and the guitar. Then she recognized Hobb and Dean, two guys in the high school band. They were sitting on a torn orange couch along the wall, Hobb strumming on the strings of a bass guitar, and Dean tapping drumsticks on a tin can.
“Ray,” Horace said. “You know Hobb and Dean.”
“Hey,” they both said.
“Hi.” She waved, then turned to Horace with a look of “What the hell is going o
n?”
“We’ve been playing together for about a year now,” he explained, “but our vocalist jumped ship and we need a replacement.”
Three sets of eyes watched her.
“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms uncomfortably over her chest. “What does that have to do with me?”
“We want to play at the open-mike night you were talking about,” Horace said. “But we don’t have a vocalist.”
They wanted her to sing? Were they crazy?! “I don’t sing. I play the flute.”
“I’ve heard you sing, Ray,” Horace argued. “I know you’re good.”
“When have you heard me sing?” She only sang at home, in her bedroom or the shower. Sometimes she’d start singing along with her iPod, but she was mindful when the headphones were on at school.
Horace swallowed, eyes sliding from her to the floor. “That night on the bus. After the band competition.”
Oh. That night.
She’d been listening to her iPod before Horace moved seats and tapped her on the shoulder. She remembered singing, but she’d thought she was only mumbling and the rest of the bus had been alive with conversation. She didn’t think anyone had heard her.
“I just sing for fun,” she argued.
“Come on,” Hobb said, chewing on a piece of his long brown hair. “Having a chick sing our songs would be way cool.”
“Hobb,” Horace said, shaking his head.
“What?”
“We need someone,” Dean added, standing. “We’re desperate.”
She shifted her weight around. “Do I need to remind you guys that I don’t sing?”
“Just try it,” Horace said. “We can do a cover song. Pick something.”
No way was she singing in front of all three of them! She didn’t even know how to sing. She’d probably make a fool of herself, and then Horace would think she was a huge dork.
“I can’t. Besides, I don’t know the words to any songs. I can only sing along if I sing to my iPod.”
“That’s fine. Go get your iPod,” Horace said.
It was sitting in her car. She could say she didn’t have it, but something told her Horace would know she was lying. When did she ever not have her iPod?
“And then what?” she asked.
“You sing to the iPod and we’ll play along.”
“But what if you don’t know any of my songs?”
“You have Greengers on there? You were singing it on the bus that night.”
“Yeah.”
“‘Save Me Yesterday’?”
“Save Me Yesterday” was one of her favorite songs. The band, Greengers, was an up-and-coming alternative band. They weren’t quite Three Days Grace yet, but their popularity was growing. She’d heard of them two years ago when they started making the scene in Boston.
“Yeah. I have it.”
“We can do that song,” Hobb said, unfolding his long legs from the couch. “Let’s do it.”
Raven hesitated as the boys set up the equipment. Horace just stood there, staring at her. Singing to her iPod was easy, singing here, in front of them, that was the hard part. And it was just a high school open-mike night. Why was it so important that they play?
Maybe it was important to them, to Horace, because it was their passion and it didn’t matter where they played—open–mike night or a serious gig—just so long as they got to play and people heard their music.
Music was a big influence on Raven’s life; she could appreciate the passion.
“Please, Ray?” Horace said, the plea pinching the corners of his eyes.
Despite the embarrassment already heating her face, she nodded and went out to her car to grab her iPod. She wanted to make Horace happy. For some reason, pleasing him pleased her and she tended to believe the things he said, even if they were compliments that didn’t involve her boobs or her talent for making out.
Inside, she put the headphones on and turned to the guys. Hobb had the bass guitar hanging from a strap. Dean was behind the drums and Horace was on the guitar.
“I didn’t know you played,” she said, nodding. Horace was in the percussion section in the school band. It seemed natural that he would play the drums.
He shrugged, pulling a pick from the strings. “I’ve played the guitar longer than the drums. It’s just the school band doesn’t allow guitars in.”
“Why is that, anyway? It seems so unfair.”
“I don’t know, but it sucks.” He started strumming a few practice notes on the guitar as she flipped through her playlist on her iPod and got the song ready.
“We’ll start off,” Horace said. “Jump in when you’re ready.”
“Okay.”
Horace positioned his fingers over the arm of the guitar and started strumming with the pick in the other hand, notes sounding through the amp behind him. She couldn’t help but watch him, his fingers moving effortlessly through the chords, sliding up and down the neck of the guitar.
He looked up then, caught her staring, and he smiled. “Go ahead,” he mouthed as Dean started in on the cymbal—tick, tick, tick—and Hobb on the bass—dum, dum, dadum.
Her foot started tapping on the cement floor. She pressed play on the iPod and the live music mingled with the recorded. She closed her eyes, taking the mike and the stand in her hands.
Don’t think.
Just jump in.
She took in a breath, quieted the voice that told her this was crazy, and she sang.
When the song was over, her heart hammered in her chest.
“Wow,” she whispered. She’d never felt anything like that, the music not just sounding in her ears, but vibrating through the floor, bouncing off the walls, pouring out of her.
“That was wicked!” Hobb said. Dean nodded in agreement.
“Ray, that was awesome,” Horace said.
She felt like she was glowing. “It felt awesome.”
“So join Hobb and the Heartbreakers!” Hobb said.
Dean shook his head. “That is not our name.”
“Will you sing with us?” Horace asked, ignoring the argument starting behind him.
Her mother would kill her if she joined them. A rock band to Ms. Valenti was synonymous with joining the circus. But right now, Raven didn’t care what her mom would think. She just wanted to make music.
She smiled. “I’m in.”
TWENTY-THREE
Rule 27: You must not allow yourself to develop any new crushes for at least three months after the breakup.
After school the next day, Kelly came straight home and dropped her homework in her bedroom. She’d do it later. She went into the den and signed on the Internet, going to Yahoo mail.
She typed in her email password and hit enter.
You have 1 new message.
Was it from Will?
It doesn’t matter, she thought. I’m not going to answer it even if it is. I’m so over him.
She clicked on her inbox. It was from Drew. The subject of the email said, “I need your help.”
Kel,
I need your help. Kenny is flaking on poker tonight and I need another player asap. I already told your brother you were doing it. Please tell me you can fill in.
—D
Hanging out with Drew sounded like fun, but playing poker with her brother did not. She hit the reply button.
Hey, Drew! I don’t know about…
“Kelly?”
Kelly turned around in the desk chair. The base squeaked with age. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
Mrs. Waters came into the room and shut the door. She clutched a piece of paper in her hand. Sitting on the sofa, she leaned forward, her elbows propped on her knees. “We have a problem.” She held up the piece of paper as if presenting evidence.
Kelly took a closer look at it and winced. It was mid-semester grades. Crap. Suddenly, several missed assignments ran through her head. Chapter seven in geometry. A failed pop quiz in Spanish 2. An unfinished assignment in history. Hopefully those missed and
failed assignments would only add up to a C. She had to get at least a C to pass.
It was just that she’d been so stressed lately, what with the breakup. She hadn’t felt like studying or doing any homework. It didn’t seem like that much at the time, but now she wondered if her lack of ambition had finally taken its toll.
“How are the grades?” Kelly asked.
Mrs. Waters inhaled through her nose and then looked down at the paper. “You’re failing Spanish and geometry and you’re in jeopardy of failing history, too.”
Kelly’s face instantly reddened in embarrassment and shame. It was that bad? Her Spanish teacher was the only one who’d recently pulled her aside about her grades, but her history and geometry teachers hadn’t said a word. Of course, her geometry teacher had suggested she find a tutor. Kelly had forgotten about that.
“I’ll make the missed assignments up,” Kelly said. “And I’ll ask my teachers if I can do anything for extra credit. They’re usually pretty good about that stuff.”
Mrs. Waters shook her head and looked at the grades again. “You promised me you’d do your work the last time we had this conversation.”
Kelly bit her lip. “Mom. Please let me try harder! I’ll get a tutor for geometry, and history and Spanish will be a breeze.”
Her mom crossed an arm over her chest. “If it was a breeze, then why didn’t you do it the first time around?”
Kelly shrugged. She didn’t have a good excuse for that. She couldn’t say she’d slacked off because of a breakup. “Stress,” she finally said, hoping that would suffice.
“You have three weeks to prove to me that you can bring your grades up. I expect to see some improvement.”
“You will. I promise.” Kelly jumped up and wrapped her arms around her mom’s neck. “You’re the best.”
“You probably won’t be saying that if you don’t do your homework.”
“No. I will.”
Mrs. Waters nodded and left the room.
Kelly went back to the email to Drew.
Tell you what, I’ll play poker tonight if you help me with my geometry. Let me know. I’m in way over my head and I desperately need your help.
˜Kelly˜
Alexia threw the dirty, wet sponge in the bucket of water beside her when she heard her cell ringing in her bedroom. She tiptoed over the newly clean bathroom floor so as not to smudge it.
