Off Course

by Georgina Bloomberg

Tommi couldn’t help laughing, even in the middle of the kiss. That set Alex off, too, and they broke apart. “Guess I’d better get back in there,” he said with a grin, reaching over to brush a strand of hair out of Tommi’s face. “See you inside!”

  “See you.” Tommi smiled and tucked her hair behind one ear as she watched him race off. It was cool to see him in his element. This was what he wanted to do with his life—well, some version of it, anyway. He’d talked about being a promoter or band manager or various other things, but it was when the topic turned to his previous experiences DJing that he really came alive. And that made sense, actually. It was the perfect merging of his outgoing personality and his extensive and varied music collection. Up to now, the closest Tommi had come to seeing his skills firsthand was at that Hamptons house party, when Alex had kept them all entertained spinning tunes in the house, on the beach, and by the pool. But he’d kept getting interrupted by Court taking over to play some lame ballad or Duckface shorting out the speakers by dripping on them. So not really the same thing.

  “Hey, if he’s the DJ, how come we have to wait in line?” Parker complained. “We should get, like, VIP passes or something!”

  “Chill out.” Court gave him a shove. “Line’s already moving, see? We’ll be inside sweating our asses off soon enough.”

  She was right. Within ten minutes they were inside the club, which was narrow and dark and smelled like stale beer. People were packed shoulder to shoulder by the bar and on the dance floor, and an old-school disco ball sent diamonds of light spinning around the room.

  At the moment the sound system was playing a current pop hit called “Forgive Me” that seemed to be everywhere those days, from the jukebox at the diner near the barn to every station on Tommi’s car radio. Tommi was already sick of it, but the chorus was so insanely catchy that she caught herself humming along:

  “Forgive me/I know I done wrong/Forgive me, girl/’Cause I’m weak and you’re strong …”

  “Check it out,” Court said as the song ended. “Loverboy’s getting ready to start.”

  Tommi followed her gaze and saw that Alex had just stepped into the neon-striped DJ booth, which was set on a platform at one end of the long, narrow dance floor. He glanced out and spotted her, then grinned and waved and blew a kiss before returning his attention to the equipment.

  “Aw, doesn’t he look sexy up there, Tommi?” Duckface said into her ear.

  “Shut up,” Tommi said. But Duckface was right. Alex did look seriously cute, his expression intent as he focused on what he was doing.

  “Drinks, anyone?” Parker asked.

  Tommi followed her friends toward the bar. She had her fake ID in her purse, but the bartender barely spared them a look as he asked what they were having. He was a big dude with a shaved head and a neck tattoo.

  “Rum and Coke!” Court shouted at him. Then she glanced over her shoulder at Tommi. “Make it two?”

  Tommi shook her head. “Just plain Coke for me,” she said. “I have a lot to do tomorrow if we’re leaving for Philly the next morning.” That was true enough, though there was more to it than that. Tonight wasn’t about partying. It was about seeing Alex do his thing. She didn’t want to get wasted and miss out on even a little bit of that.

  Court shrugged. “If you say so.”

  By the time they all made it back over to the edge of the dance floor, Alex was tapping his microphone. “You guys hear me?” he asked, his amplified voice floating over the crowd. “Welcome to my private music fantasy!”

  “Whoo-hoo!” Duckface shouted, hoisting his beer over his head and sloshing half of it onto James and Parker in the process. “Gooooo, Nakano!”

  Tommi laughed and let out a whistle. All around them, other people also whooped and cheered.

  Alex grinned. “Cool, then let’s get this party started,” he said. “My name’s Alex, and I’m basically the world’s biggest music geek. I’m psyched to share my obsession with all of you tonight, okay, starting with a little band I discovered at this music festival in Boston and …”

  “What’s with telling us his life story?” Court said into Tommi’s ear.

  Tommi shrugged. Glancing around, she could see that Court wasn’t the only one wondering. All over the club, people were looking a little restless.

  “Shut up and play some music!” someone shouted.

  Alex didn’t seem to hear; he rambled on for another minute or so about the remix he was about to play from an indie band. But finally he hit a button to send the first song blasting out through the speakers.

  “Come on, let’s dance!” Duckface was already boogying as he wriggled his way out onto the dance floor.

  Court grabbed Tommi’s hand and dragged her along. “Okay, this isn’t exactly the song I’d choose to kick things off if I wanted people to dance,” she said. “But hey, what do I know?”

  Tommi felt a little self-conscious as she swayed to the beat with her friends. There were only a few other people out on the dance floor—some drunken frat-boy types, who kept jumping up and bumping chests with one another, laughing loudly the entire time; a heavily pierced couple slow dancing and making out; a lone Goth type who appeared to be having some kind of seizure.

  James leaned closer. “Our boy’s not exactly wowing the crowd, is he?” he said into Tommi’s ear.

  Tommi shrugged, glancing up at Alex. He was bent over his mixer, looking totally focused. “It’s still early,” Tommi told James. “I’m sure things will pick up.”

  But they didn’t. An hour passed; Alex played a variety of songs and gave a few more of his little talks in between some of them. Tommi could tell from his voice and expression that he was genuinely geeked about the stuff he was saying. The trouble? Nobody else seemed to care. Whenever he started talking, everyone pretty much stampeded off the dance floor toward the bar—or the exit. By the time midnight rolled around, the club was less crowded than it had been when Tommi and her friends had arrived.

  The worst part? Tommi wasn’t sure Alex had even noticed. How was that possible? How could he not see that he was bombing? It sort of made her feel uncomfortable—and vaguely embarrassed for him.

  As another song ended and Alex started blabbing about some vinyl-only music store he’d discovered in LA recently, Tommi grabbed Court and dragged her off the dance floor.

  “I think I might take off,” she said.

  “Already? It’s early.”

  Tommi shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow,” she said. “Tell Alex and the others I said good night, okay?”

  Zara was fiddling with the TV remote when she heard the key scrape in the lock. A moment later her mother breezed in, looking flushed and happy and beautiful and maybe a little drunk. Her favorite diamond pendant sparkled against the jade green silk of her vintage Dior cocktail dress.

  “You’re still up!” Gina sang out, hurrying over to drop a kiss atop Zara’s head. The scents of gin, smoke, and Chanel No. 5 floated around her.

  “Hi,” Zara said. “How was dinner?”

  “Lovely. Stu and Evie are an absolute riot.” Gina dropped her Fendi beaded clutch on the sofa and sank down next to it, graceful as a cat. Zara felt like reminding her that there was no camera there to record the performance, and nobody to see it except her. But she bit her tongue.

  “That’s good,” she said instead. “By the way, before I forget, Stacie called while you were out.”

  “Oh?” Gina sat up straighter, suddenly looking more focused. “What do you mean, she called? I was hoping she’d still be up when I got home so we could finally get acquainted.”

  “Guess you’ll have to wait a little longer.” Zara shrugged, trying to look bored. “The interview dweebs loved her. They want her to stay for an extra day or two.”

  “Really.” Gina’s tone was even. When Zara chanced a quick glance, she found her mother gazing back at her. “Well, I suppose that’s good news for her, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Zara could feel h
er palms starting to sweat. Her mother had been away for so long that Zara’d almost forgotten she had to be careful with her. She wasn’t like Zac, who didn’t really care if Zara lied to him as long as whatever she said didn’t mess up his plans.

  Then again, Zara was an experienced liar. She just had to get back in practice—like riding after a few weeks off. The muscles were a little soft and sore, but they still worked.

  Good thing she hadn’t tried to wing it. She’d spent most of the evening figuring out the best new excuse for Stacie’s absence. For a while she’d thought about claiming that Stacie needed to stay at her “interview” for the entire rest of the week, but now she was glad she hadn’t tried to push it. Gina already seemed a little suspicious. Zara would just have to figure out something new by Friday at the latest.

  Gina stood, stretched, and wandered over to the wall of windows. Even at midnight, the sounds of whooshing traffic and blaring horns drifted up from the street below.

  “It’s nice to be back in New York,” Gina said. “Always so much going on. Oh! That reminds me.” She turned to face Zara. “There’s a big movie premiere Friday night. The picture’s just a talky thing about the Cold War or something, but the after-party should be fun. Want to be my date?”

  Zara hesitated. Normally going to some boring industry function with her mom was the last thing she wanted to do on a perfectly good summer evening. But this time, maybe there was a reason to go.

  “Um, sure, maybe.” She stayed slouched on the sofa, keeping her voice and expression casual. “I mean, the movie sounds lame. But I might tag along if something better doesn’t turn up.”

  “Wonderful!” Gina swept over and kissed her again. “Now I’d better get some beauty rest. Don’t stay up too late, all right, love?”

  “Sure, Mom. Good night.” Zara waited until she heard her mother’s door shut upstairs, then jumped to her feet and started pacing, thinking hard. This movie premiere? A stroke of luck. If she could keep herself and Gina out late enough on Friday night, that would buy her another day without having to worry about the Stacie thing. Then she just had to figure out how to handle the rest of the weekend until Gina flew out on Monday, and she was home free.

  Kate kept her head down, staring at the TV remote in her lap. She’d taken her watch off when she’d showered after coming home from the barn earlier, but she knew exactly what time it was. Or at least what time it had been when Andy had strolled in a few minutes ago. Twelve twenty-three. More than an hour past his new curfew. Her father wasn’t about to let Andy forget it.

  Or Kate, either, since she was trapped here listening to the two of them argue. Unless she wanted to squeeze between them to get to the stairs, that was. And there was no way she was doing that.

  She sneaked a look at her mother, who was curled into a quivering ball of neurosis on the easy chair nearby. Great. If this didn’t set Mom off on one of her serious OCD sprees, it would be a miracle. She’d been getting bad even before this—not that Andy seemed to care.

  Kate shot her younger brother a look, feeling a flash of anger toward him. Why couldn’t he just be normal? Go back to being the smiling, sweet-natured kid he’d been up until this year?

  Hearing a light tapping sound, Kate glanced at her mother again. There she went. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Four quick taps on the arm of the chair. Exactly four. Always four. What was it about that number that made it so damn magical in her mother’s head, anyway? Kate tried not to think about it.

  “I wouldn’t have to sneak around if you weren’t such a freaking unreasonable hardass!” Andy was yelling at their father. “None of my friends have to be home so early!”

  “That’s because your friends are losers,” Kate’s father retorted.

  Tap, tap, tap, tap. Pause. Tap, tap, tap, tap.

  Kate gritted her teeth, trying not to count along. “Listen, Andy,” she spoke up, sick and tired of her brother acting like such a brat. “Just calm down, okay? Lots of kids your age have curfews, and Dad is only—”

  “Shut the hell up!” Andy whirled on her, his expression hostile. “What the hell do you know about anything, you dumb bitch?”

  “Andrew! Language!” their mother gasped out, just as her husband exploded in a torrent of curses.

  But Kate couldn’t respond at all. This was just too much. She couldn’t stand it anymore; couldn’t spend one more second in this house. If she did, she’d go crazy herself. Feeling her eyes fill with tears, she dropped the remote and rushed for the door, grabbing her car keys off the fussy little fake-cast-iron key hook on the way.

  “Katie?” she heard her father call after her.

  Her hands didn’t stop shaking until her car was three blocks away. She drifted to a stop in the middle of the street; no big deal, since there was no other traffic in sight. Aside from the blue-green glow of a TV through a window here and there and the rumble of Kate’s car’s engine, the entire neighborhood was dark and silent.

  She clutched the steering wheel, realizing she had no idea where she was going. Normally at a time like this she’d run to Nat, but that was obviously out of the question.

  The barn? For a second her foot touched the gas pedal, ready to follow the familiar route to Pelham Lane. This time of night, with no traffic, she could be there in five minutes.

  Then she shook her head. She didn’t dare go there right now, either. Jamie had already talked to her about working too hard, spending too much time at the barn. Besides, he was big on family. He’d want her to go home and work things out with her parents.

  Reaching for her phone, she scrolled through until she came to Tommi’s number. Tommi had told her she had her back, no matter what. Was it time to put that to the test?

  She hit the number and waited. Two rings. Three. Four …

  When Tommi’s voice mail message started, Kate hung up, feeling tears well up again. But she blinked them away and hit the next number on her list.

  This time, it only took one ring. “Hey, gorgeous,” Fitz said. “What’s up?”

  “N-nothing.” Kate sniffled, unreasonably happy to hear his voice sounding so normal. “What are you doing?”

  “Playing video games all by myself. Totally boring and pathetic.” He paused as she sniffled again. “Hey, what’s wrong? You sound weird. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes. I mean no. I mean, not really …” Kate’s voice quavered, but she didn’t care. Suddenly she couldn’t keep it in anymore, couldn’t pretend everything was all right. And he was supposed to care about her, right? So she told him the whole story.

  “Oh, man,” Fitz said when she’d finished. “Want me to come out and beat up your brat of a brother for you?”

  Kate couldn’t help smiling. “No, that’s okay,” she said. “He’s not a bad kid, really. I mean, he doesn’t mean to be. He’s just going through some stuff right now, and our dad really is kind of inflexible sometimes. … I just needed to get away from the whole thing for a while.”

  “Gotcha. Okay, then, why don’t you come crash here for tonight?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “You probably just have to time to make it to Chappaqua and grab the last train out,” Fitz said. “I’ll pick you up at Grand Central. Or hell, if you miss the train I’ll drive out and get you.”

  Kate didn’t answer for a second, actually sort of tempted. But then the more rational part of her mind took over. Leave it to Fitz to come up with a sweet yet crazy plan like that. But it was late, and she had to be at the barn bright and early tomorrow for work. Commuting in and out of the city just because she wanted to get away from her crazy family? Not exactly practical. Besides, just talking to Fitz, letting it out, had made her feel a lot calmer already.

  “Thanks,” she said, meaning it. “But that’s okay. I just needed to vent to someone, I guess.”

  “You sure?” Fitz sounded unconvinced.

  “Yeah. Seriously, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay. Just call again if you need to. Anytime.
”

  After Kate hung up, she just sat there for a moment staring out at the night, her brain in neutral. But finally she put the car into gear and drove home, sneaking in the back door so she didn’t have to face her family.

  Tommi was yawning when she stepped into the brownstone, trying to decide if she had the energy for a shower or if it could wait until morning. Someone had left the front hall light on for her, and she noticed another light glowing out from beyond the kitchen in the back—it was coming from her father’s home office. A moment later he appeared at the end of the hall in sweats, his tattered old robe, and a baseball cap.

  “Tommi,” he said, checking his watch. “Thought I’d be waiting up a lot later than this for you tonight.”

  “Hi, Dad.” Tommi kicked off her shoes and picked them up, then headed for the stairs. “I told you a million times, you don’t have to wait up for me. You know I’d call if I ran into any trouble.”

  “I know.” He walked over and put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a quick hug. “But I feel better when I know you’re home. Besides, I had some paperwork to catch up on.”

  “Okay.” Stifling another yawn, Tommi continued toward the staircase. “Anyway, I’m beat. See you in the morning.”

  “Hang on.” He waited until Tommi turned to face him again. “Listen, Tommi. I just wanted to tell you how glad I was to hear about this trip down to Penn this weekend. It’s good that you’re keeping all your options open. Sign of maturity—I’m proud of you.”

  “Um, thanks.” He was obviously reading a lot more into this road trip than was really there, but Tommi didn’t feel like getting into it right then. Let him think what he wanted. Maybe it would keep him off her back for a while about Legs, anyway. “Good night, Dad.”

  She plodded up the stairs, trying not to think about Alex. She just wanted to fall into bed and forget this whole evening had ever happened. But what was she supposed to say to him when he asked what she’d thought of his DJing? Suddenly she couldn’t help being very glad she was getting out of town for a while.