Frog touches my arm, and I follow my cousin’s gaze to a college-aged guy in a chair. He’s wearing a Batman & Robin shirt. Harriet just made up the address.
She knows we know. “Please, just let me audition. You can tell Tom whatever he wants afterwards. Just give me the chance.”
I could tell her to get out.
But maybe Frog is right. Maybe I have grown a little too jaded. Not everyone has some sinister plot. Some people are trying to get by. Just like I was.
“Okay,” I tell Harriet. “We’ll leave it up to Tom after you audition.”
She lets out a breath of relief, and before she takes a seat to wait her turn, I do one better. After the drummer on stage is dismissed, I suggest to Tom that Harriet should play next. She cuts the line, and practically hop-skips towards the stage.
Frog smiles at me.
I smile back at her. “Hey, I can be nice.”
“I know, your mom said as much.”
That softens me. I’m eager to know what else my mom might’ve told her, and Frog must see.
“She said you work too hard, and you’ll work even harder to protect me. Sometimes that means you might be fiery-tempered, but underneath everything, your heart is caring and sweet.”
I miss my mom.
I try to push back emotion, but I’ve missed her since she left. As Harriet begins to play one of The Carraways’ most popular emo-punk songs, I decide to shoot my mom a quick text. I’m in NYC today with Sulli. You doing anything later today? We can head to Queens and stop by, maybe for dinner or coffee? I press send and hear melodic drumbeats.
I look up.
Harriet is completely in the zone, her drumsticks flying with total rhythm. I bounce my head to the beat. Halfway through, I realize Frog is also nodding her head and tapping her fingers to her thigh. Exactly like I am.
We share the same quirk, and instead of being freaked out like I might’ve been a few months ago, I smile.
Harriet is in the beat as her sticks move quickly from snare to tom drum. A longing crashes into me—to remember the feeling of those sticks in my hands and the thump rolling through my body. I stopped drumming after my dad died.
My life changed direction, but I’m back here.
Why am I back here, staring at the path I left behind?
I inhale strongly.
Harriet not only plays well—she plays with desperation.
Tom leans forward, eager and excited. When she finishes, he asks me, “Do you have her application?” since I’m holding the tablet.
I come over to him. He’ll find out soon enough.
Tom skims her credentials. “Harriet, right?”
“Yeah.” She comes to the edge of the stage. “I, um, left some stuff blank, but I’m good. Better than anyone else here.”
Drummers cough in the back rows, pissed at Harriet.
She’s nervous again. “So what do you say?”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
Tom scrapes a hand over his face. He slumps down and mutters something like, “Of course this happens.” To Harriet, he says, “It’s not just up to me. The label doesn’t want the legal liability of hiring a minor right now. Sorry—there’s nothing I can do.”
I didn’t know that.
She glares at her feet, stuffs her drumsticks in her back pocket, and rushes out the door as other drummers boo her.
“Who’s booing?” Tom stands up, turning to the audience. “Dude, you—you did that? Out. Get him out.” He’s talking to his bodyguard.
Ian Wreath goes and starts escorting assholes out of the theatre through a fire exit.
Excited squeals come from the double-doored entrance towards the back of the theatre. Quinn squeezes his way through. Girls pull at his jacket like a rock god just appeared.
“He’s hot but…whoa, they’re all over him.” Frog sips her coffee like she’s watching a movie.
He shuts the door, closing them out, then descends the aisle towards the stage.
Towards me.
I notice the piece of paper in Quinn’s hand, grin blinding as he approaches. “Akara.” He’s so excited, I can easily guess what happened.
“Farrow cleared you?” I ask.
“150%.” He hands me the sheet of paper.
Frog eyes him like she’s trying to solve a riddle. “What are you like extra good in bed or something?”
He flushes, caught off guard.
I make a face like I sucked on a lemon. “Frog.”
“What?” She frowns. “It was an honest question. I’m a virgin, if you want to know.”
“I do not want to know.” Eff my life.
Quinn tells her, “That’s cool.”
No.
It’s not cool.
“He has a girlfriend,” I tell my cousin.
Frog gives me a look like I’m being weird. Right, I don’t need my cousin (who is also a temp that is around the main roster way too much) to be involved with one of them. Not that there are many single guys left.
Quinn (taken).
Gabe (single).
Donnelly…don’t think about it.
I don’t want to know what Donnelly is up to.