Mari was right yesterday. People are always going to want art. The Renaissance happened after the Black Plague. Art grew out of that horrible time and made everyone happy. People go to the movies, stare at art on Instagram and in museums, read books, write poetry.
Art is a constant.
“Art is your backup?” I ask Adam again, just to make sure I heard him correctly.
“It’s a solid career, if you go after commercial opportunities in addition to exploring the art you personally love.”
“Commercial, like designing the logos and banners for Lollapalooza?”
“Yeah, people are always gonna want graphics and cartoons and animated movies. I don’t know how well it all pays, but there’s plenty of work for artists.”
“Thanks. That’s good to know.”
Adam crosses his arms, considering me. I check out the tattoos on his knuckles. Some sort of symbols?
“Are you an artist?” he asks.
I nod. “I like painting and graffiti and designs.”
“Got anything you can show me?”
I turn on my screen and scroll to my tattoo design.
Adam looks over my shoulder at it. “That’s good, man.” He studies it more critically. “But have you considered doing it in silver, like the color of chain link? Maybe red for the dragon is too literal?”
“Yeah, maybe.” I’m tempted to agree with him because he’s Adam Tracy but decide not to. It’s my tattoo and it’s about what I want, not what anyone else thinks. Not Tyler, not Adam Tracy, not anybody. Me. “I like the red, though.”
“Go for it then.”
Go for it. That’s when I make my decision. When I get home, I’m telling Mom and Dad I don’t want to do business. That I have other goals.
And I’m not hesitating any longer: I’m making an appointment to get my tattoo. Maybe I’ll keep that a secret, though, so Mom doesn’t murder me.
“Tracy,” a voice calls out, and Adam looks over his shoulder. “We’re about to go on. Gotta go.” Adam bumps my fist. “Nice meeting you, man. Stick with the art, okay? Give your info to our manager. I’ll reach out.”
Holy shit! He wants to be able to contact me! This couldn’t have gone better.
As Tyler and I are leaving the trailer, I notice an outdoor lounge area next door. It’s fancy, with cushy armchairs, TV screens, and tables full of snacks and drinks. I’m ogling the setup when I’m supposed to be heading back out to watch the concert with the rest of the masses, but then I see her.
Millie Jade.
Mari’s favorite singer ever.
Mari’s going to be so pissed she wasn’t my plus-one. Millie Jade is right over there.
Tyler always says if I want something, I have to ask for it.
He’d say, Be confident, Teej.
What do I have to lose? The worst thing that could happen is that a security guard tackles me to the ground and boots me from the premises. A muscular guard pressing my face into hot asphalt would suck royally.
But for Mari? Sure, why not.
After a deep breath, I walk toward Millie Jade.
“T.J.?” Jenna says. “You’re supposed to stay with me. I’ll get in trouble—”
“Teej?” Tyler calls out, but I don’t stop. I have to do this.
Millie’s sipping from a mug and scrolling on an iPad. I glance around to see if any guard trolls are about to take me out, but the area is clear.
“Hi.” My voice shakes.
Millie Jade raises her chin and looks at me. Her eyebrows furrow.
“My friend is a huge fan of yours,” I blurt out. “You’re her favorite singer ever. She came to Lollapalooza just to see you.”
The guarded expression turns into a small smile.
An assistant comes out of a trailer and hurries over to Millie. “I’m sorry, Millie, I know you wanted a few minutes to meditate.” He points at me. “You. Get gone.” The assistant adjusts his headpiece. “I’m calling security.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going. Thanks,” I say to Millie. “Mari isn’t going to believe this.”
“Wait.” The assistant pauses and takes a harder look at me. “You look familiar… You’re the guy from that tweet! The one Chrissy Teigen retweeted.”
I nod.
“Oh!” Millie says with a sigh. “That was so cute.” She leans to the side and looks around and past me. “Where’s your friend? The cute girl in the picture? Is she the one who likes my music?”
“I won a backstage pass to meet the guys from If We Were Giants, and since my brother loves them, Mari suggested that he come backstage with me. She’ll be so upset she didn’t get to meet you.”
The singer sets her iPad down and stands up. “Where’d you say she is?”
“She’s coming to your show. She probably already got a good spot out there in the crowd.”
His mouth hanging open, Tyler edges closer to us. He’s looking back and forth between Millie and me wide-eyed like he’s watching a shark ride an elephant or something.
He whispers, “When I said you should talk to lots of different girls to figure out what you want, I didn’t mean this.”
She holds up a hand and another guy wearing a headset and microphone seemingly appears out of nowhere. “Jamie, can you get me a backstage pass bracelet, please?”
The guy nods, and my heart nearly stops.
“Let’s invite her back here.”
Mari
On our way into Grant Park with Megan, Sierra loops her arm through my elbow. “I’m so glad you’re staying for a couple more weeks!”
“Me too.”
“We can go to the beach and ride bikes and see if we can score another invitation to get more of Krysti’s strawberry daiquiris and we can hang out with T.J. again—”
“I need more of those daiquiris!” Megan announces.
“He’s going home tonight,” I say. “He won’t be back for college for a few weeks.”
“That stinks,” Megan says. Sierra keeps taking peeks at her. I don’t blame her—Megan looks stunning in a bright pink sleeveless romper and combat boots.
“What happened with you and T.J. last night?” Megan asks.
“Mostly walked around and talked,” I say.
“Mostly?” Sierra nudges me. “Did anything else happen?”
“I kissed his cheek. That’s it.”
Sierra and Megan huff at each other.
“I worry I blew it with him,” I say.
Sierra gives me a sly grin. “Does that mean you might be interested?”
“It’s easy with him.”
Sierra and Megan look at each other, almost as if communicating telepathically. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.
As we continue making our way into the park to find a place to stand for the Millie Jade concert, I replay my day with T.J. in my mind. How he cleaned the bird poop out of my hair while simultaneously laughing his ass off. Him remembering I love Garrett’s popcorn. His encouragement to fight for what’s best for me.
Being around him is everything, but still very simple. I want to know more about him. Talk to him whenever I want.
Suddenly my phone buzzes with a text. I check the screen to find it’s from him. Wow. Did he know I was thinking of him?
T.J.: Come behind the Perry’s stage. Trailer #68.
I furrow my eyebrows at my screen. What could this be about? Did Tyler decide to break into a trailer and throw a party?
“I’ll be back,” I shout to Sierra over the music. I push and shove my way through the crowd in T.J.’s direction. Someone steps on my toe. An elbow catches me in the shoulder. Ouch.
I’ve had a great time at Lollapalooza, but I’m gonna need another vacation to recover. My bruises have bruises, and based on my sunburn, you’d think I’ve been sunbathing on Mercury.
When I try to walk behind the stage, scary security guys block me like a brick wall. One man is so big I wouldn’t be surprised if he picked me up above his head to carry me out of here. He could probably beat up the Rock.
I text T.J.: Can’t get back there.
The security guys are staring me down, so I step backward, knocking into somebody.
“Watch it!” A woman shoves me to the side, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.
What if I get stuck in another mosh pit? What if I get knocked to the ground again? I’m about to take off when I hear someone shout my name. “Mari?” A man wearing a lanyard and headset comes over to the fence.
“Yeah! That’s me!”
He taps the beefy security guy’s shoulder, and I’m granted access. What the hell?
The man snaps a plastic bracelet around my wrist and leads me backstage. My heart races so fast it might explode. What is going on? Did T.J. get permission to bring another person backstage to meet that band?
I follow the man up three wooden stairs into a trailer and look around at the lavish leather furniture that’s far nicer than my living room back home.
T.J. struts forward. He takes my hands in his, cradling them like I’m a treasure.
I blurt out, “I had a great day with you yesterday. It was the best day of my life.”
He pauses. Blinks. “Me too.”
I want a chance. He’s worth it. I’m worth it. “I know you’re going home tonight, but I have to tell you…”
“Tell me what?”
I swallow, and make another choice. A choice for me. “I like you.”
He slowly smiles. “I like you too.”
“Can I keep texting you? Like, after today?”
He stares into my eyes. “What are you saying?”
“Right now we live really far apart, and I’m not sure if I’ll get to move here soon or if I’ll only be able to visit more often, but I want to see you again.”
He carefully wraps a hand around the back of my neck and leans forward to peck my lips. “I want to see you too.”
I tiptoe my fingers up his spine and grip his T-shirt in my fist. “Can you be patient with me? I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know how—”
“I’ve never done this either. We’ll figure it out together.”
My eyes are watering. “I talked to my dad. I’m sticking around here for another couple of weeks. He’s going to talk to a lawyer and see if he might be able to get custody of me.”
T.J. pulls me into a deep hug. “I’m so glad you talked to him. Are you happy?”
“I have no idea what’s going to happen next, but I feel so much better.” I press my cheek against T.J.’s chest. For the first time in a long time, everything feels okay. “T.J.? Why are you in this trailer? Where’s your band?” I glance about, pushing my glasses back up on my nose. “The Giant people?”
He shakes his head with an amused smile. “If We Were Giants.”
Someone emerges from another room. But it’s not a man. It’s a woman with pink hair wearing a white minidress. Millie Jade!
“Oh my God!” I exclaim. “You’re my favorite.”
“Thanks, girl.”
She gives me a light hug, and I feel like I might faint. “You’re the sweetest,” she says.
A photographer snaps pictures of her with me, and then another with T.J. and Tyler too. A woman wearing a WGTP T-shirt is grinning broadly like she hit the lottery.
After thanking Millie profusely, T.J. and I walk back out into the crowd, hand in hand.
“I left Sierra over there.” I point toward the area near the stage where Millie is set to perform in a few minutes. The band opening for her is still going strong. I spot Sierra and Megan dancing wildly together, holding hands. Sierra lifts her arms up making a bridge for Megan to twirl under in a circle. They laugh and smile at each other.
As we walk up, T.J. wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close. He kisses the side of my head. Something tells me we’ll have a hard time keeping our hands off each other today.
“Oh my God,” Sierra squeals as we approach her. “You guys are together?”
“We’re getting to know each other,” T.J. responds tactfully, and it’s the perfect thing to say.
Sierra moves next to me and speaks through her clenched teeth. “Did you change your mind?”
“Yeah, I guess I finally woke up and realized the chance to be close with him outweighs my fears, you know?”
At my words, Sierra stands up straight. She pulls her long blond braid over her shoulder and plays with it as she turns to look at Megan.
Megan and T.J. are now dancing together along to the band.
Sierra suddenly beelines toward Megan, taking her by the elbow. Megan turns toward Sierra, tilting her head back to look up at her. Megan’s mouth falls open at the look of care on Sierra’s face. Sierra pushes Megan’s braids behind one of her ears, leans in, and kisses her.
Kisses her!
My heart stops for a moment because Megan’s eyes are wide open like she’s been shocked with electricity—and I’m worried about how she’ll react, but then she closes her eyes and leans into the kiss, bracing her hands on Sierra’s shoulders. I’m surprised they’re able to kiss because they’re both smiling so damn hard.
T.J. and I yell “Woo!” and cheer for them along with a bunch of strangers in the crowd.
Tyler arrives holding a beer. “What’d I miss?”
T.J. gestures at Tyler’s plastic cup. “Dude, it’s not even noon.”
“Well, it’s five o’clock somewhere, and I needed it. I asked Millie if she’d want to hang out sometime.”
“And?” I say.
Tyler takes a long gulp. “It was a hard pass.”
“But at least you had the courage to try,” T.J. says, which makes Tyler laugh and raise his plastic cup in a toast.
When Millie takes the stage, I scream my lungs out for her. Sierra, Megan, and I jump up and down and cheer, beginning to sing along with her.
Millie’s still my favorite singer, but after this weekend, I’m not sure how much I buy into her song “Destiny.”
If I’d stuck with the idea that your destiny is your destiny and it keeps coming around to find you, no matter what, then this weekend never would’ve happened.
I made the choice to visit Chicago. If I hadn’t, I never would’ve met T.J.
I’m making my own choices from now on.
I reach out a hand to him and he pulls me close against his chest. His blue eyes are endless.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.”
With a smile, I get up on tiptoes as he dips his head to kiss me.
The crowd roars as the song ends, but all I can hear are our two hearts beating as one.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Dad and I walk our usual route to the beach.
We descend down the steps into the tunnel under Lake Shore Drive. As always, I hold my breath to avoid the stench and try not to step in any puddles. Especially the one full of questionable green goo.
Ever since I moved to Chicago to live with Dad full-time last October, we take a walk together every Saturday morning. It’s our thing. It did get a little dicey once winter came and we saw several blizzards in a row, but we’ve made it a point to get outside and spend time together.
I’m tiptoeing around a puddle, passing the painting of Obama in a Cubs cap, when a patch of sunlight catches my eye. Hey, that mural wasn’t here last week.
I stop in front of it. Before T.J., I never paid much attention to graffiti. Now I look at it all the time. I see it for what it is: art.
The new mural comes into focus. Brown curly hair. Glasses. A girl leaning on her chin on a fist. A brown bracelet ringing her wrist. Tulips of every color—even pastels—
surround her.
“Wow,” Dad says. “This one’s good. I haven’t seen it before… It looks like you, Ladybug.”
“Dad, I think it is me.”
* * *
Sierra and I stand outside our apartment building, waiting for our Ryde.
A silver Lexus rolls up. Now this is what I’m talking about.
I open the door to the back seat, slide in, and find T.J.
His fingers slide effortlessly between mine. His other hand plays with the leather bracelet around my wrist, the one he gave me. As always, it’s hard for us to keep our hands to ourselves.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Can’t wait.”
“Wait, where’s Megan?” Tyler asks.
“Meeting us there,” Sierra says with a little smile on her face.
The car pulls away from the curb and heads downtown. I lean my head on T.J.’s shoulder as he caresses my hand. His fingers tiptoe down to my thigh and gently caress it.
This summer apart has been rough for us. After being together most of the school year, he went home to Madison to live with his parents for the summer, and I visited my mom for a few weeks. It went okay. I don’t know if we’ll ever have the loving relationship I’d like to have with my mom, but she didn’t yell or hurt me in any way. My aunt stayed with us when I visited, and Mom’s continuing to go to therapy, as agreed upon with the judge and social worker.
Just like the past few summers, Austin and I spent a lot of nights sitting in the back of his pickup truck and talking, looking up at the stars. You can see them much more clearly in Tennessee than in Chicago. We also went to Bonnaroo together in Manchester. He was very impressed with my new tip to wear heavy boots instead of our usual sneakers and flip-flops.
He’s been dating this sweet girl Lydia who’s always onboard to ride four-wheelers and Jet-Ski on Lake Normandy with him, and he seems very happy, but he’s worried because they’re going to different colleges an hour apart—her in Georgia and him in Tennessee.
Now, T.J. and I are both back in Chicago, and I’m beyond happy. No more video chats every night; instead, I can see him in person. T.J.’s starting sophomore year, and since I’ll be a freshman, we’ll get to see each other every day. Now that I’ll be starting college, maybe I can even spend the night at his place.
The Pick-Up Page 18