Virtually in Love

by A. Destiny

  • • •

  I was in the world’s best mood an hour or so later as my friends and I helped clean up the gym. The kids had just piled back onto their bus for the long drive back to the city, and Vanessa and I were dismantling the last of the decorations behind the bandstand. “This was amazing,” I said to her for about the millionth time.

  “I know, right?” She shot me a sly look. “By the way, did I mention Trevor is even better looking in person?”

  I giggled. “Oh, eight or nine times, yeah,” I said. “But feel free to keep mentioning it as often as you want.”

  Maya was with Kaz and a few other people over at the sign-in table. Suddenly she clapped her hands and whistled loudly for attention.

  “Okay, it’s official!” she called out. “We totally smashed our goals!”

  “Woo-hoo!” Cody shouted, pumping his fist. “New solid gold music stands for everyone!”

  I laughed along with everyone else. Maya grinned. “Give yourselves a round of applause,” she added, causing the place to erupt with cheers, whistles, and stomping feet. When the noise started to fade, she grabbed Kaz and dragged him forward, lifting his arm in the air as if he’d just won a boxing match. “And another round of applause for my genius cousin whose brainstorm started it all!”

  “Yay, Kaz!” I screamed. The rest of the crowd was cheering and shouting too. Kaz waved and bowed and grinned and basically ate it all up like the huge ham he is, which only made everyone cheer even louder.

  Just then the janitor appeared and started shooing us all toward the door.

  “I can take care of the rest, kids,” he said. “Now get out of here already.”

  I grabbed Vanessa’s hand so we wouldn’t get separated in the sudden stampede. “Come on,” I told her. “Let’s go find Kaz and celebrate this incredible day with some grease and sugar at Aesop’s.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  When I woke up on Monday morning, the first thing I did was grab my phone. I’d been pretty beat by the time I got home from Aesop’s the previous night, but before falling into bed I’d texted Trevor to ask about getting together again soon. We’d talked about it a little on Saturday night, but I’d totally forgotten to bring it up at the marathon.

  And no wonder. I still smiled every time I flashed back to the moment I’d seen him walk into the gym. And the moment he’d stood up and started that incredible solo. And when he’d pulled me out onto the dance floor and when he’d blown me that kiss and, well, pretty much every moment we’d been together.

  I couldn’t wait for more. My mind was full of true romance as I tapped in my password.

  There were several new texts waiting for me—one from Kaz, two from Vanessa, and a group text from Maya, thanking everyone who’d participated in the fund-raiser.

  But nothing from Trevor. I frowned, scrolling over to make sure I hadn’t imagined sending him that text last night. No—there it was, glowing on the screen.

  Today was fun! Want to hang out tomorrow like we talked about? Text me and we’ll figure out the details. Chat soon!

  “Oh well,” I muttered. “Maybe he’s sleeping in.”

  That had to be it. If I didn’t have to go to school, I definitely wouldn’t be up yet either, especially after my busy Sunday. He’d probably get back to me in an hour or two. Dropping my phone into my purse, I yawned and headed across the hall for a shower.

  • • •

  Trevor finally texted me back right before lunchtime. I felt the phone vibrate in my pocket during geometry class, but I didn’t dare check it until Ms. Feldman released us at the bell.

  I darted into the hall but stopped short as soon as I read the message. Vanessa was coming out after me and almost stepped on my heel.

  “Hey,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

  I held up the phone so she could see the text: Can’t get together today, sorry. Jon cut school so we can head over to check out a vintage record place in Smithton. We’re leaving in a few, but I’ll text u tonight. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.

  “Smithton?” Vanessa said.

  I nodded. That was a town about ten miles away, and I knew exactly which shop Trevor was talking about. I’d been there once with Kaz when he’d needed a new copy of some old doo-wop record for his vinyl collection.

  “I wish I could go with them,” I said. “That place is kind of fun.” I frowned as I took my phone back and scanned the text again. “I wish he’d at least invited me to go with them.”

  Vanessa looked sympathetic. “He probably didn’t think about it, since he knew you had school.”

  I just nodded, not bothering to point out that the record shop was open late. He could have waited until after school . . . .

  Okay, I knew I shouldn’t have been so ridiculously disappointed. But could you blame me? I’d had such a great time with Trevor over the weekend, and I wanted to spend every moment possible with him while he was around. Still, he had to spend time with his family, too. That was why he was back, right? Besides, it was just one day.

  Kaz bounded out of the classroom and almost crashed into us. “What are you two doing standing around out here?” he said. “Race you to the caf—I’m starving!”

  “Yeah, me too.” I shoved my phone back into my pocket. “Let’s eat!”

  • • •

  I checked my watch for the ninth or tenth time. It was Tuesday afternoon, school had let out half an hour earlier, and all the buses were long gone. Aside from a few skateboarders practicing tricks over near the flagpole, I had the pickup area outside the main doors to myself.

  “Where the heck are you, Trevor?” I muttered, pulling out my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed a text.

  When I looked up again, I finally saw Jon’s low-slung old car peeling into the parking lot. He barely paused long enough for Trevor to hop out, grab his guitar off the seat, and slam the door shut before taking off again in a cloud of stinky exhaust. Waving my hand in front of my face to dissipate the smell, I hurried forward.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling. “I thought you’d never get here!”

  He squinted at me. “Sorry. Jon wanted to stop off for tacos on the way.”

  “Oh.” So much for my idea of going somewhere for a snack. “Okay. I’m glad you’re here now, though.”

  “Me too.” He smiled. “So what do you want to do?”

  “I could give you that town tour,” I said. “Give you a taste of my fabulous, exciting hometown?”

  “Um, sure.” He looked less than thrilled by the idea.

  “Or we could hang out at the park?” I said quickly. “It’s pretty nice there.”

  “Park sounds good.” Trevor shrugged his guitar around behind his back on its long strap. “Lead the way.”

  Soon we were stepping through the scrolled iron gates of the park. For such a small town, its park was pretty large and fancy. There was a pond with ducks and swans and stuff, a big grass meadow where people could have picnics or play Frisbee, some wooded areas and flower gardens, and a gravel trail that made a loop through the whole thing.

  We walked along for a while, not talking much, but just kind of comfortable together. When we passed a bench, Trevor paused.

  “Want to sit for a minute?” he said. “Watch the ducks?”

  “Sure.” I sat down, glancing out across the pond, which shimmered in the afternoon sunshine. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Trevor settled his guitar on his lap, gazing out at the water. Then he glanced down at the guitar, adjusting it slightly and then strumming a chord.

  “Are you getting bored?” I asked. “We could go do something else.”

  “Actually, I’m loving the peace and quiet.” He grimaced. “Trust me, I’m not getting much of that while I’m staying with my relatives. I swear, my cousin’s kid never shuts up.”

  “Reminds me of my brother,” I said. “My parents say he was born talking.” I paused. “Actually, they say the same thing about me, come to think of it.”


  He laughed. “You’re a riot, Chloe! But listen, mind if I work on something for a sec? I had some ideas for one of our new songs, but I haven’t had a chance to try them out yet. At least not when I could hear myself think, let alone play.”

  “Sure!” I was thrilled at the idea of watching him create a new hit for Of Note. “I’d love to hear that.”

  “Cool.” He strummed a few more chords, humming under his breath. Then he started picking out a tune, occasionally singing a word or two.

  I sat back, enjoying the feel of the light afternoon breeze on my face as I listened. This was exactly the kind of thing I’d pictured when fantasizing about dating a rock god. Hanging out and listening to him play. Being part of the creative process. Maybe someday a reporter would interview me about this very moment, ask me to talk about how it had felt to be there at the inception of a classic hit. I tried to focus on every detail so I’d be sure to remember—just in case.

  But after a few minutes my mind started to wander a little. I couldn’t help it. Whatever Trevor was working on might be a classic hit someday, but right now it was just a bunch of random-sounding chord progressions.

  A couple in their early twenties strolled past, hand in hand. The guy shot a curious look at both of us, while the girl was pretty much looking only at Trevor—obviously checking him out, even though he was at least five years younger. Not that I blamed her. He looked focused and serious and totally hot as he sat there bent over his guitar.

  The pair moved on, disappearing around the next curve of the path. I wasn’t sure Trevor had even noticed them.

  “That sounds good,” I said, trying to focus on the music again.

  “Huh?” He looked up, blinking at me. “What did you say?”

  I shook my head and smiled. “Nothing. Never mind. Sorry—keep going.”

  He nodded and went back to work.

  • • •

  Almost an hour later my mind had wandered so far, I wasn’t sure it was even in the same zip code anymore. I mean, Trevor’s playing was still amazing. But he’d barely looked up from his guitar in, like, twenty minutes, and I was getting a little bored.

  Maybe that made me a bad rock-star girlfriend. Or just kind of distractible, like my teachers seemed to think. But I wasn’t sure I could sit there much longer doing nothing. Not even with Trevor sitting beside me.

  So maybe it was time to remind him I was there—maybe mix things up a little. Have some fun.

  “Hey.” I leaned closer and poked him in the arm. “Tag—you’re it!”

  Leaping to my feet, I took off toward the edge of the pond. But when I looked back, he was still sitting there, staring at me in confusion.

  I jogged over to him. “I said tag, you’re it,” I said. “Come on. Catch me if you can. Betcha can’t!”

  He sighed and pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Did I miss something, Chloe? I thought we were having a nice time.”

  “We were.” I flopped down beside him again. “I mean, we are. I was just thinking we could, you know, maybe walk around a little more. Or something.”

  “Oh.” He glanced at his guitar and then up at me again. “Okay, can you give me another two seconds, though? I almost have this part worked out. Then we can do whatever you want, okay?”

  “Okay. Sure. No problem.” I collapsed back onto the bench, swallowing another sigh. Somehow, hanging out at the park with Trevor wasn’t turning out to be quite as romantic as I’d expected. I drummed my fingers lightly on the bench beside me as I waited for him to finish.

  And waited. And waited some more.

  Ten minutes later I couldn’t take it anymore. He was playing a sort of somber-sounding little riff. Taking a deep breath, I belted out a few cheerful la-la-la notes.

  He jumped and then looked up at me again. “Chloe . . .,” he began.

  “Sorry.” I grinned weakly. “Just trying to help.”

  He frowned slightly and then sighed. “Sorry, I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Getting all obsessive.” He flicked his hair back and smiled ruefully. “I tend to kind of forget everything else when I’m in the zone, you know?”

  “It’s okay,” I said quickly. “That’s one of the things I always liked about you. You know—even back at camp.” I grinned. “Remember the time you were trying to learn that Mozart concerto on the violin?”

  “It was Brahms, actually—the Violin Concerto in D Major,” he corrected. “Yeah, I remember. You eventually hid my bow so I had to come play softball with the rest of you guys.”

  I laughed at the memory. “Too bad I forgot you had a spare bow in your suitcase. We totally would’ve won that game if you’d stayed on second base where you belonged!”

  Trevor chuckled. Then he plucked a string and hummed along with the note.

  “Chloe, Chloe, Chloe,” he sang softly, strumming the already familiar chords of “my” song. “You’re the girl for me . . . .”

  Suddenly I wasn’t bored at all. I leaned a little closer, drinking in the sight of his earnest green eyes, the scent of the trees and the grass and the pond—and of course the sweet, sweet sound of the greatest guy in the world playing just for me.

  • • •

  “Ta-da!” I swung open the door of Aesop’s Diner and led the way inside. “Here we are!”

  Kaz, Vanessa, and Trevor were right behind me. That’s right, I said Trevor. When we’d parted ways on Tuesday afternoon, I’d convinced him to join me and my friends at our favorite hangout spot on Thursday after school. Okay, actually, I’d wanted to make it Wednesday. But Trevor’s aunt and uncle had some sort of big family dinner planned on Wednesday, so Thursday it was.

  Anyway, I figured this was his big chance to get to know my best friends. Sure, they’d met briefly at the marathon. But we’d been so busy, and Trevor had left so abruptly, there hadn’t been much time for any serious bonding.

  But here at the diner there would be no distractions. He would be able to get a big, juicy taste of my daily life. Not to mention some tasty Aesop’s deliciousness.

  One of the usual waitresses noticed us and waved us vaguely in the direction of our booth. Kaz charged over there.

  “Hurry up, you guys. I’m famished,” he said. “I just hope we don’t end up with, like, steamed carrots and gluten-free pudding today.”

  Trevor gave him a strange look as he slid in beside me. “What’s he talking about?”

  “You’ll see.” I winked at my friends. “We have sort of a tradition about how we decide what to order.”

  He looked confused, but shrugged and reached for the water glass our waitress had just thunked down in front of him. “Be right back with menus,” she told us.

  As she hurried off, Kaz sat back and gazed at Trevor. “So,” Kaz said. “You and Chloe, huh? What do you think of our girl?”

  Trevor looked a little uncomfortable as he shot me a look. “Um . . .”

  “Shut up, Kaz.” I leaned across the table to smack him, though he easily dodged me. Then I gave Trevor an apologetic nudge with one shoulder. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s a wack job.”

  Vanessa giggled. “Yeah, Kaz is a nut.” She nudged him with her shoulder. I couldn’t help noticing they were sitting pretty close together.

  “Okay.” Trevor fiddled with his napkin. “So, uh, what do you guys do for fun around here?”

  “This, mostly.” Kaz waved a hand to indicate the diner. “Hang out. Play music. Achieve world peace. The usual.”

  “If you want fun, you should’ve been there for our jam at Kaz’s birthday party,” I told Trevor, grinning. “Did I tell you about that?”

  “It was great,” Vanessa agreed. “We had a serious jam session.” She glanced at Trevor and blushed. “Probably not the same kind you’d have with your band, though.”

  “Cool.” Trevor smiled. “Actually, my band loves to jam. We’ve come up with some of our best stuff that way over the years. Especially lately—we have this new drummer,
okay? So one day last week we’re taking a break, and she just starts waling on her kit, thump, thump, thump . . .” He banged on the table to illustrate, making our silverware jump. “I reacted first—I ran over and grabbed my axe, just started riffing to the beat. The other guys jumped in after a few seconds. We must have played for, like, half an hour like that.” He smiled and stared into space, practically glowing with the memory.

  I caught Kaz and Vanessa trading a look. “Um, cool, sounds very Dead of you guys,” Kaz said.

  Trevor blinked, returning to the here and now. “Did you say dead? What is that, local slang or something?”

  “No, like the Grateful Dead,” Kaz explained. “They’re this old band that was famous for their long jams, and—”

  “Yeah, I know who they were,” Trevor cut in with a shrug. “My uncle used to follow them around in high school. He still has all these lame old bootlegs he’s always trying to get me to listen to.”

  “Kaz loves all those lame old geezer bands,” I put in. “He’s always trying to get us to listen to them too. Right, Van?”

  Vanessa nodded. “Look, she’s finally bringing us a menu.”

  Sure enough, the waitress raced past, flinging a stack of menus onto our table without even slowing down.

  “Nice service in this place,” Trevor commented with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  Kaz was already spreading one of the menus out in the middle of the table, tucking the extras away behind the napkin dispenser.

  “Hey, can I have one of those?” Trevor said, reaching toward them.

  “You won’t need it,” I said with a smile. “Check it out. We have this game we always play here—let’s show him, guys.”

  “Me first.” Kaz closed his eyes and held his finger a few inches above the menu. “Count me down, Chloe.”

  “Okay.” I started the menu spinning. “Round and round she goes, where she stops . . .”

  “Nobody knows!” Kaz sang out, punching his finger at the menu.