“Huh?”
“Waverley. You know, the university. I applied to their med school program. I applied to Bentley College, too, but I’d really like to get in at Waverley. It’s a good school.”
“I didn’t — you never mentioned.” I couldn’t put the words together.
“I haven’t told very many people. I didn’t get in last year when I applied, or the year before.” She said it quietly, with a hint of shame.
“How far away is it? Waverley, I mean.”
“A few hours by car.”
I made a noise in my throat. I wanted to be happy for her. If this was what she wanted … but we were just starting … whatever this was.
“It’s a really nice campus,” she said.
“I hope you get in,” I said, and meant it. “Wow. Med school.” I shook my head. “That’s intense.”
“Yeah, my mom thinks I’m crazy. Cuz it’s such a long program. She thinks it’s silly to keep trying.”
I looked at her, the way she set her chin, blue eyes gazing straight ahead, focused.
“I’m not going to give up.” There was steel in her voice. “It doesn’t matter what she says.”
I got it right then, what made Olivia tick. “You’ll get in. Because it’s just my luck, to meet you and then lose you.” I gave her a wry smile.
Olivia picked up my hand and draped it over her shoulders, squishing herself against me. Her hair caught the light. It shone like a halo. “Who says you’re losing me? If I got in, you could come to Waverley, too. It would be easy to transfer into their arts program since you’re already a student here.” She said it playfully, flirting. If only it were that easy. With my arm across her shoulders and the scent of her pressed against me, I caught my breath.
“Bet your mom wouldn’t like that.”
Olivia grinned up at me. “Not one bit.”
To get home, I could take the bus, which was actually faster because it was direct, or I could take the subway and transfer to a bus. Using the subway meant more time with Olivia, so that’s what I chose. When we had to go our separate ways, I leaned down and kissed her. A good, long, deep kiss. I pulled her against me, holding her tight. I didn’t want to let go.
I half-floated through the tunnel to get to the stop that took me to the bus. I was lost in my thoughts about going away with her, what would happen if she got in, and about kissing her. I knew I should have told her I was auditing Professor Addison’s class, but I couldn’t figure out how. I let our conversation focus on her on her med school application and then we’d jumped around to other things. Tomorrow. I’d tell her tomorrow and take a trip back to the city to go to the registrar’s office, find out what I needed to do to become an official university student. All the bleakness that had stretched ahead of me was ebbing away. Part of it was Olivia, but it was the class, too. There was more to the world than sitting behind the desk at The Vinyl Trap.
I just missed the connecting train. It departed the stop in a gust of wind as I arrived. Dirt and litter swirled on the tracks before settling. On the other side of the station, the platform was crowded. Through the din of late-afternoon chatter, I heard a familiar sound. I looked around. It was coming from the other side. A sax. Dad’s sax. I knew that song. I knew, without seeing him, that it was Dad playing that song.
A westbound train burst into the station, roaring and hissing to a stop. It filled up, the passengers moving automatically, fitting in so they could be carried to where they wanted to go. As it pulled away, I saw him, exposed on the platform, sax strapped around his neck. Even though no one was around, he kept playing. Was this where he went on those afternoons we thought he was jamming with the guys? I hitched up my backpack and moved behind a pillar, out of sight. I didn’t want him to see me and I didn’t want to see him. I peeked out one more time before my train came.
His eyes were closed. He wasn’t playing for money; there was no case open in front of him. He was just playing to play, spreading his music in the dark underbelly of the city. Bringing light to a place that had none.
- 22 -
Dizzy
It was first period on Friday morning and I was drifting off when Maya hissed my name. I jerked upright as Ms. Radojic, my science teacher, moved toward our desk. “Delilah?”
“Yes?”
“What’s your answer for number four?”
My eyes felt grainy and the words on the page blurred in front of them. Number four? “You’ve got a fifty-fifty chance,” she said. There were a few snickers behind me. Maya tapped her pen on her paper, directing me to the answer. “True?”
Ms. Radojic nodded with an arched eyebrow and moved away from our table. I slouched down in my seat, hoping I could escape her notice for the rest of the class.
“Thanks,” I whispered to Maya as we were packing our books up. “I barely slept last night.” Prepping for the Friday Night Spin was more work than I’d anticipated.
“I know the feeling.” There were circles under Maya’s eyes that she hadn’t tried to hide with makeup.
“Twins?” I asked.
“First, it was the twins, then a fight.” A guilty look passed over Maya’s face. “I told Mom she was too old to have the twins if she can’t look after them.”
It was shocking that Maya would say something like that to her mom. “Then what happened?”
“Dale was there, too, and he got pissed at me. Then, I slammed my door and Ivy woke up, which started this whole other thing.” Maya rolled her eyes.
“I wasn’t even in a bad mood when I got home yesterday.” She sighed and her mouth tilted in a frown. “But then, I saw Mom, Dale, and the girls on the couch. All cuddled together. I looked at them and I was like, where could I sit? The four of them took up the whole thing. There wasn’t room for me. I opened my mouth to say hi, and Mom held her finger to her lips and shushed me. She didn’t even want me to talk. I’m like this extra thing that no one needs around anymore, unless it’s to babysit.”
I wished I knew what to say to make her feel better. At least you have a mom didn’t seem like the right thing. I could see the hurt on her face and felt bad for her. Maya and her mom had been so close before the twins arrived. It was like her life had been flipped upside down with their arrival. “Do you want to sleep over tonight? It’s the Friday Night Spin, so —”
But Maya cut me off. “I’m grounded,” she said bitterly.
“You’re going to miss it? Again?”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
I gave a disgruntled sigh. I knew it wasn’t her fault, but it sucked knowing she wasn’t going to be there. Before the twins, Maya and her mom would have come to watch me spin.
“Next time,” she promised.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have butterflies. The store had about forty people waiting for the show to start, but more people kept trickling in. This time, it felt different than when I’d opened for DJ Erika. People were expecting something. “Ready?” Jeremy asked. I was fiddling with the knobs and faders.
“I’m kind of nervous,” I confessed.
“You’ll do great,” Jeremy said and moved away from the DJ booth.
I slipped the headphones on so they nestled into my hair. It was a huge cloud of curls, and when I flicked on the lamp beside me, my shadow appeared on the wall. My hands shook a little, but I took a deep breath. Dad stood at the cash desk and gave me a thumbs-up with a big smile. Sitting on a stool closer to the door, Lou held up his phone, ready to record the show.
Slowly, I turned the volume up on the first track, one long, lonely sax note, recorded years ago by my dad. Next, my mom’s voice sampled from one of her songs mixed with a backbeat. The mix took on a life of its own, the ebb and flow of the beats floating through the crowd. I kept my head down, intent on keeping one step ahead, but as my fingers grazed the edges of the other records, the vinyl shining in the glare of the desk lamp, I started to lose myself in the song.
The next mix started with one of the records I’d found in D
ad’s office. The one that started with her asking: “Are we ready?” I sampled it, speeding it up so her voice became the beat. “Are you ready? Are you ready? Are you ready?” The crowd started to get into it, saying it with her, fists pumping in the air. I was floating, the mix and music working its way from the turntables and into the air in a heady, joyous glow.
By the time I had my third song spinning, I looked up at the crowd. Everyone was dancing. There was energy in the room, smiles, laughter. A warmth spread through me. I could do this. I was meant to be behind the table. I could spin.
I scanned the room for Lou and saw Maya walk in and toss her coat on top of the rack. She came straight for the DJ booth. I squealed with excitement over the music. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t miss it!” she shouted back. She gave me a one-armed hug and moved onto the dance floor.
The last song was the one I’d posted last week. In my head, I’d already dubbed it “The Fam Jam.” Georgia’s voice wailed, strong and powerful, enough to take your breath away. I wanted to watch the crowd as the music unfolded, to see their reaction. Was it as good as I thought it was?
From across the room, my eyes met Dad’s. He stared at me, shock and dismay evident on his face. It was too late to shut the mix off. Georgia’s voice filled the store; the pulse of the music sped up, but her voice stayed constant, holding the audience captivated.
I looked down at the record spinning on the turntable. I hadn’t thought about what he’d feel hearing Georgia’s voice blasted over the sound system.
But it was too late now. The mixes were out there.
- 23 -
Lou
Dizzy looked like a pro at the booth. She was spinning and moving to the beat, her hands flying between the turntables. I hadn’t realized how many old records of Georgia’s she’d found in Dad’s office. Georgia’s voice was recognizable because, well, it was Georgia’s voice, but not in a way that slapped the listener across the face. None of these songs were famous. There was a subtlety to the mixes that made it hard to believe Dizzy was only fifteen.
I wished Olivia were here. I’d wanted her to come, see the store, meet Dad and Dizzy, but at the last minute I’d chickened out and hadn’t asked her. Hard to explain, but I didn’t want to share her yet. I’d made plans with her tomorrow. We’d go for lunch, then to the library so she could study. I’d read beside her, content just to hang out.
I looked around at the crowd and back to Dizzy. Everyone was feeling her mixes. I saw them grinning appreciatively and surging forward, wanting more. There’s a hero-worship thing that goes on with good DJs. They become the rock stars, even though it’s someone else’s music they’re playing. But to be a good DJ, and I’d seen some good ones, you had to know music. It had to be in your bones. No one could have had more music in her bones than Dizzy. It was genetically imprinted on us. And DJing was how it came out for Dizzy. Spinning all those songs together, she was making something new, which was a cool way to make music.
Her last song started and she looked up and flashed a grin at the audience, then her smile faded. I followed her gaze, my phone still trained on her. There was Dad at the cash desk, staring at her with a “How could you do that?” look on his face. A face like Dad’s can’t hide much. All those lines tell a story. “Oh shit,” I muttered under my breath. It all came crashing down on me: the mixes, Georgia’s voice, the songs Dizzy was mixing together. I realized she’d probably never asked him if she could take the vinyl from his office. Dizzy stared at Dad, the equipment forgotten, her hands still. She let the song play out, an anticlimactic end to what had been a solid set, even better than when she’d opened for DJ Erika.
Everyone cheered.
I used my phone and zoomed in on her. She put her head down, all the joy of being at the DJ booth draining out of her.
- 24 -
Dizzy
I let the last song fade out, Georgia’s voice asking, “Are you ready?” one last time.
I pulled my headphones off and accepted praise numbly, moving through the people to find Dad. He wasn’t at the cash desk and he hadn’t gone past the DJ booth to go upstairs. I made a beeline for his office, but he wasn’t there. The room was empty. I stood there, trying to figure out what to do. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, but I’d seen the look on his face.
The door opened and I turned, expecting to see Dad. Instead, Maya bustled in, her hands waving in excitement. “You were awesome, Dizz!” She giggled and threw her arms around me in a congratulatory hug. “Oh my god! Did you love it?”
I tried to smile, but it came out strained. I needed to talk to Dad, not get congratulated by Maya.
“I thought you were grounded,” I asked, pulling away.
Maya gave me a conspiratorial smile. “I snuck out.”
“You what?” Momentarily, my angst over Dad was forgotten. Maya and I didn’t do things like sneak out. “Why?”
“Everyone was asleep and it just seemed so stupid.” Maya’s voice rose. “So, I left. Mom’ll never even know I was gone.” There was a flash of rebellion in her eyes.
Warnings buzzed in my head. “She’ll freak if she finds out —”
“She won’t,” Maya said.
Jeremy put a record on, something to fill the time while he set up, and the buzz of chatter in the store was drowned out. “Want to listen?” she asked. I peered into the store, searching for Dad. He was near the front door, talking with Donnie and Rudy. I hadn’t seen the two of them come in, but I’d let all the guys know I was spinning tonight. Donnie looked up, as if he could feel my eyes on him. He gave me a half-hearted smile and gestured for Dad to look my way. I ducked back into the office as Dad came toward me.
“You go,” I said to Maya, keeping my voice steady. “I need to talk to my dad. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Hey, Ray!” she greeted him as she and Dad brushed shoulders in the doorway.
“Hi, Maya,” he said, distracted. He didn’t say anything to me, but shut the door after Maya, sealing off some of the sounds from the store. Dad ran a hand through his hair and exhaled, like what he had to say was going to be unpleasant. I shifted from foot to foot, anxious. “Georgia’s songs,” Dad began, the grooves of his forehead bunched together. “You can’t use them.”
Outside in the store, Jeremy had taken the turntables. I could hear him introducing himself, even though everyone in the store probably already knew him.
“Thought I was clear about this with you and Lou.” He looked at me, confused. “I don’t want people asking questions. Hearing her voice like that, they might wonder where those records came from. Want to know how you got them.”
“I’d just say you toured with her.” Which was the truth.
But he shook his head. “It’s not just that. Those records are private. She recorded them in a cottage in the mountains. Just me and her. I did the sound. Those are the purest recordings of Georgia you’ll ever get.” He gave me a long look. “No more spinning with them.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up his hand. “You can’t use them.”
“Why?”
He gave me an exasperated look. “I just told you.”
A surge of frustration hit me. His argument didn’t make any sense. No one would guess we were Georgia’s kids because I sampled a few of her hidden recordings. Dad was overreacting. “You’re being paranoid.”
“Her record company — if they ever got wind you were using those songs …” He let his voice trail off. “Listen, Dizz. I didn’t want to tell you all this, but you’re kinda pushing me into a corner.” I waited for him to keep going. “When Georgia came back the last time, I signed some papers.” The music outside got louder, pounding feet made the room vibrate.
I blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Her lawyers called it a non-disclosure agreement. We don’t talk about her, she doesn’t talk about us. Keep the secret safe. No communication between us, either, except through the lawyers.”
“Back then, I thought it was for the best.”
I stared at him, stunned. “That’s why she’s never come back? Because you signed some papers?”
He looked at me like I hadn’t heard him right. “Not me. Her. She sent the papers.”
“But you signed them.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, yeah. She’d been gone for four years, never heard from her and then she just showed up. At first, I thought she was back, that she wanted to pick up where we’d left off. I would have let her, too.” He shook his head and gave a bitter laugh. “Then the truth came out. Why she’d really come.”
“Didn’t you think one day I’d want to meet her? Want to know her? How could you sign away my chance?”
Dad’s face fell as he watched me. “Thought I was doing what was best.”
I turned on him, my eyes blazing. “Best for who?” He opened his mouth to explain, but I didn’t want to listen. I held up my hand and backed toward the door of his office. He called to me, but I ignored him. A blast of sound hit me as I slammed the door shut. The store and all the people in it were just a blur of noise and movement as I headed toward the door to go upstairs.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Maya grabbed my arm, spinning me around. Her eyes shone and a sheen of sweat covered her forehead.
I froze, staring at her for a minute. Don’t tell her, a voice said in my head — the same one that was always there, catching the truth before it burst from my tongue. I wanted to squash the voice. Maya is my best friend. I need to tell her! I can’t figure this out on my own anymore. The smile disappeared from her face as she studied me. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got a headache. I’m going upstairs.”
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