“Do you want something to drink, too?” he asked, gesturing toward where Isabel and Gabriel were walking toward the bar behind us. It was a small crowd tonight, like it usually was with lesser-known bands.
The lead singer on stage was wailing into the microphone, sweat dripping down his temple.
“I’m okay. Maybe when they break,” I told Lucas.
Lucas either heard me that time or understood my hand motions because he turned his attention back to the front as well.
My ears were still ringing and my chest still buzzing even though we were all outside now, on the far end of a parking lot across the street. The night was calm around us. Concerts always left me buzzing in the best ways. I wasn’t someone who needed to be up there in the spotlight, performing. If I could just hear my words being sung, my chords being strummed by someone breathing life and passion into my ideas, I would be so happy.
We had stopped by Lucas’s car, a navy Ford Focus. Not the car I would’ve imagined him in. He seemed more like a beat-up Corolla guy to me. Not that most people I knew matched their cars. I drove my mom’s minivan most of the time … Okay, well that kind of fit.
Isabel plugged and unplugged her ears several times with her pointer fingers. “They need to issue earplugs on our way in the door.” Her voice was loud, her ears probably ringing.
“You sound like a grandma!” Gabriel teased, but he was speaking extra loud, too.
I giggled.
“That was great,” Lucas said, his crooked smile on.
I smiled. “Amazing. Had you ever heard them before?”
“No, I think they’re local. Pretty new.”
“Now we can say we knew them way back when once they get big.”
“Yes. We’ll be smug about it, too,” Lucas said, and I laughed.
Gabriel nodded. “Maybe by then Lily will be just as big and she can be equally smug.”
Lucas spun his keys once around his finger then stopped it with his palm. “Are you in a band?” he asked me.
“No. Not even close.”
“She plays the guitar and writes music,” Isabel put in.
I shuffled my feet. “I used to—well, I tried to. But not anymore. My guitar is broken.”
Lucas tipped his head to one side. “Is it fixable?”
“Not sure. It’s splintered pretty bad.”
“I know a girl at the music store who does guitar repairs. I’ll get you her info.”
“Really? That would be amazing. Thank you.”
Lucas nodded. “A broken guitar is the worst.”
I paused, about to agree, when I processed what he said. “Wait, do you play?”
“I do.”
“Cool,” I said.
“Really cool,” Isabel said, giving me a big smile.
“I’ll try to get her info for you this week,” Lucas told me. “The store might not be open, with Thanksgiving and everything.”
“That’s fine. After this week will be good.”
“I’ll send you a message if I get it.”
“Like in the sky?” I asked with a laugh.
“No, like a text?” he said, confused.
“It was a joke … airplanes … sales … never mind, yes, a text would be great.” Stop referring to your letters like everyone should understand what you’re talking about, Lily.
We exchanged numbers then he unlocked his car and held out one arm. I wasn’t sure what the one arm was offering but I slid in for a side hug. “Thanks for coming. That was fun.”
“It was. See you later.”
When he left I squeezed Isabel’s hand and she squeezed mine back. I’d gone on a date with Lucas! And we’d exchanged numbers. And hugged!
It had been perfect.
I could finally move on from my pen pal.
“Why is he in the house?” my dad asked, stepping over the rabbit. Ashley and I were in the living room, watching a documentary on fire ants (her idea, not mine) that I was finding oddly fascinating.
My mom, who sat at the table, stringing beads onto a necklace, said, “He needs some exercise. If he had a bigger cage … ” She gave Dad her pleading eyes.
“I’m not building a mansion for a rabbit.”
“Did I say mansion? Girls, did I say mansion?”
I held up my hands. “Leave us out of this. That rabbit is evil. I’m on dad’s side.”
“There are no sides,” Mom and Dad both said at the same time.
Ashley looked at me, raised her eyebrows, then said, “So we don’t have to vote anymore? Ever?”
My dad laughed. “Those are just fun and games. Get ready to vote on the best pie in two days. I’ve perfected my recipe.”
Ashley stood up. “Come on, Lily. Let’s take a walk.”
“But I don’t want to. The fire ants.” I pointed to the TV.
She pulled on my arm. “Come on.”
“Fine. We’re going for a walk.”
We were halfway down the block before she said, “Why did you throw away the newspaper clipping?”
“What?” I asked, even though I had heard her perfectly.
“The one I saw on your wall for weeks.”
“I didn’t throw it away,” I argued. “It’s still in the corner of our room somewhere … in a tight crumpled-up ball.”
Ashley bumped my hip. “I thought you were finally going to get over your fear and share your songs.”
“I was. But my guitar is broken so I can’t now.” I didn’t mention that Lucas might know someone who could fix it. I didn’t want to get my hopes up just in case that didn’t come to anything.
“Get a new guitar,” Ashley said as we rounded the corner.
“You know I can’t afford that.”
“Rent a guitar.”
“I … ”
She tapped a mailbox as we passed it, like it had taken her side in the argument. “That’s what I thought. You jumped on the first excuse available to get out of the competition.”
I scowled in annoyance. “Ashley. My guitar is broken. The thing I have to use to write half of the song. I think that’s a pretty good excuse.”
“Fine. If that’s the only reason, you can share the words to the song you’ve been working on with the family on Thanksgiving.”
I paused then said, “Fine. I will.”
“Good. Grandma and Grandpa are going to be there, too.”
“I know.”
“And Aunt Lisa and her kids. And Uncle James and his kids.”
“I know.” Was she trying to talk me out of this or just make me admit I was terrified?
“And Mark.”
“I know … wait … who?”
“The guy from work. We’re getting serious.”
“Really?” My sister never got serious with anyone so that surprised me. “The guy that saw food on your teeth?”
She shoved my arm. “Shut up.”
I laughed. “Just kidding. That’s cool, Ash.”
“So I invited him over for Thanksgiving dinner.”
I nodded. A boyfriend at Thanksgiving would be new. “If you like this guy, keep him far away from our house,” I said. “Especially on holidays.”