by Meg Haston
SAME AS IT EVER WAS
Friday, 8:01 P.M.
The next evening, I hugged my sleeping bag to my chest with one arm and pressed the doorbell above the tacky ceramic HOME SWEET HOME sign Molly had made in second grade. As the doorbell chimed, I willed my right eye to stop twitching. My nerves had nothing to do with Molly and Zander’s afternoon together, even though we had all decided last year that I’d be the first in the group to date. It had everything to do with feeling like anything was possible tonight. And not in a good way. Maybe Molly had softened a little—after all, she owed me for the date with Zander and the fashion advice—but Nessa and Liv were another story. What if they didn’t want to make up?
“I gooooot it!” On the other side of the door, Molly’s shoes clacked across the hardwood floor. Those were definitely not cowboy boots.
“Hey, Kacey!” she chirped after she threw open the door. “Liv and Nessa just got here. Almost before I did, ’cause I ended up chilling with Z the whole afternoon.”
Nessa’s wedge booties. Leggings. An oversized guy’s shirt, probably from Liv’s collection.
And black. Glitter. Liner.
Stop. Rewind. Play.
I didn’t know what annoyed me more: Molly’s blatant disregard of my outfit advice, or her acting like Zander was her new BFF, when I’d been the one hanging with him every afternoon after school.
“Like the threads?” Molly did a quick twirl to showcase the boots, then pushed open the screen door so I could step into the foyer. “Last-minute decision. Zander was hanging in the den with my mom, and all of a sudden, the other outfit just wasn’t working, so…”
I ditched my sleeping bag and backpack in the middle of the entrance hall and stepped over them. I wanted to ask her a million questions, like whether she’d texted Nessa to ask outfit advice. Or whether she’d showed Zander her room. Or what she thought was so wrong with the outfit I’d picked out. “You mean, Zander picked you up?”
“Yeah.” She cocked her head to one side. “It was a date.” She whirled around on one heel and we headed down the narrow hallway to her room. There was a signed Acoustic Rebellion poster hanging on her closed door, and the CD blared from the stereo. It was the sixth track, the first one Zander ever learned on guitar. I had to give it to her: The girl didn’t waste time.
For some reason, I felt a wave of anger. My hands curled to fists, but I uncurled them instantly. What did I care if she and Zander got to go backstage?
Molly’s room smelled like fresh chocolate chip cookies, which somehow made me want to dry-heave. Liv and Nessa were sitting on the edge of Molly’s bed, staring at her laptop screen. They looked different somehow. Like a year had passed, instead of just a week, and I was completely clueless about their lives. Did they have crushes on any new guys? Did Liv still like incense? Was Nessa still into all things French?
I hesitated in the doorway. “Hey, girls.”
In theory, I was going for breezy/casual. In practice, it sounded more like anxious/nauseated, with just a pinch of hostility. I shrugged off my coat and draped it over the knob on the closed closet door.
Liv and Nessa looked up, but the tulle canopy obscured their faces. My skin suddenly felt dewy with sweat.
Finally, Liv broke out into a smile. “Hey!” She whipped the canopy out of the way. The forest green bindi on her forehead matched her eyes, and she’d flatironed her black hair and center-parted it. She looked like she belonged in ninth, at least.
Nessa stood. Her pixie cut was slicked back, making her dark eyes and prominent cheekbones stand out even more. “Nice work with the whole Zander thing. Didn’t think you could pull it off.”
Was that supposed to be a compliment?
Liv’s round cheeks flushed. “Seriously impressive, Kacey.”
“Uh, thanks,” I said awkwardly, still hanging by the door.
Silence.
“Molly was just showing us her Facebook album from the date,” Liv announced. She tucked Molly’s laptop under her arm, looking like she wanted to show me something but couldn’t bring herself to take the first step.
“Already?” I forced a laugh and unwound the scarf Liv had knitted for my eleventh birthday, but my throat didn’t feel any less tight. I mentally kicked myself for wearing one of Liv’s designs to the sleepover. Did it make me look desperate?
“That’s what I said.” Nessa wrapped Molly’s silver throw around her. “Mental, right?”
“Restraining order worthy.” I sat on the edge of the window seat, grabbing a cookie from the plate next to me even though I wasn’t hungry. Liv sat next to me and opened the laptop.
“The fourth one’s my fave.” Molly was checking her ends in the window instead of looking at the screen, meaning she’d memorized the slideshow. “We got so close to the stage, I think the lead guy spit on me.”
“Disgusting.” Nessa joined us by the window. The four of us fit on the cushion perfectly. It felt like a sign. I took a cautious bite of my cookie.
Liv handed me the laptop and I clicked through the first few pics. I had to admit, number four was a cool shot. Zander and Molly had their backs to the funky silver stage, so you could see the band in the background, rocking on what looked like an enormous space-orbiting satellite. Zander had taken the shot with his left hand and had his other arm looped around Molly’s shoulder. Molly’s eyes were so wide and her smile was so big, she looked possessed.
And really, really happy.
The bite of cookie churned in my stomach.
“He’s just…” Molly got this faraway look, like she was posing for one of those terrible engagement pictures in the Sunday Trib, where the couples hugged promstyle and gazed into their future. Then she sighed. “You know?”
“What’d you guys talk about on the way there?” Nessa pulled her lanky legs to her chest.
“Everything,” Mols said. “Mostly how much we have in common, though. Like how we both love Johnny Hendrix, and traveling the world, and whatever.”
Jimi. Jimi Hendrix. I eyed her skeptically. I knew for a fact the farthest Molly Knight had ever been was Arizona to visit her grandparents, and that definitely didn’t qualify as “traveling the world, and whatever.”
“And he was telling me about how he really doesn’t care what anybody thinks.” She paused, probably for emphasis. “He said that’s what he liked about me. That I do my own thing.” She glanced quickly at me.
“Totally. You totally do your own thing,” I reassured her.
Nessa shook her head. “Please. Everybody cares what people think. It’s human nature.”
“He really doesn’t,” I said. “It’s kind of weird.” Now that I thought about it, it was actually one of the things I liked best about him.
“I think it’s cool not to care,” Liv argued, twisting a turquoise ring around her finger. I’d bought it for her when she got her tonsils out last summer.
“You would think that.” Nessa rolled her eyes.
I leaned back against the window, the chill from the glass seeping through my mini sweater dress. “It’s like… when Zander’s playing music, he’s in his own world, and nothing else matters.”
“So hot.” Molly fanned herself with her palm. “I felt the same way at the Mall of America.”
“So are you going out with him again?” Liv pressed.
“Obv. I mean, he said he was coming to the show tomorrow night.” Her eyes darted over to mine uncertainly.
“I’m sure he’ll be there,” I assured her. Then I lifted my cookie in the air in a toast. “Cheers. To…”
“Getting back together!” Liv finished my thought for me.
“Geek chic!” Molly giggled.
“No more lithp!” I proclaimed boldly.
“Hot dates with the new kid.” Nessa lifted her own cookie.
Molly flushed. “And to one more thing,” she said quickly, glancing between Nessa and Liv. They smiled into their cookies.
“What?” I asked, an odd tingle making its way up my leg
.
“So I was thinking about it, and I decided I’m gonna need time to focus on my new relationship. Which means I prob shouldn’t star in Guys and Dolls,” Molly said slowly.
I inhaled a lungful of cookie crumbs, then bent over, wheezing. Liv whacked me on the back.
“The show’s for one night, Molly,” Nessa reminded her.
“A good girlfriend focuses on her relationship.” Molly sounded like she was reading out of Ladies’ Home Journal.
“What is this, 1950?” Nessa challenged.
“You’re quitting?” I sputtered. Was this a joke? I scanned the room, looking for a tell-tale red light. Had she just lured me here to make fun of me, film it on some sort of nanny cam, and broadcast it all over again?
Molly grinned. “I already talked to Sean and told him your lisp was gone and everything. He says it’s fine by him. I can still be one of the background dancers. And besides, you really are meant to be the lead.”
“But—” My tongue was moving at half the speed of my brain. Was she stepping down because she felt guilty? Did Sean fire her? No way was Molly Knight giving up a night in the spotlight for a guy. I cursed myself for being so quick to trust her again. It was just like Paige had said. You couldn’t get something for nothing. Quid pro—
“Course, I’m gonna need you to do something for me.”
Quo.
I swallowed. Hard. “What?”
“So I can’t really have my new boyfriend—”
“Boyfriend?” I interrupted.
“—boyfriend hanging with another girl every day after school.”
“So?” I asked, not getting the point.
“So… you should prob quit the band.” Molly blinked innocently, like she had just asked to borrow an unflattering sweater I didn’t really care about.
Liv and Nessa looked at me expectantly.
“So?” Molly blinked. “The band, or the show? Choose.”
The air in Molly’s room seemed hotter than ever. Leave Gravity for one night onstage? For Quinn Wilder? For a steamy stage kiss and the adoration of the entire school? For my comeback?
To regain my rightful place at Marquette. On top with my girls, where we belonged.
The choice should have been easy. So why did I have no idea what to say?
NOW THAT’S COLD
Saturday, 7:27 A.M.
I woke up the next morning to a text from Zander, asking me to meet him at the Millennium Park skating rink. I dressed in the dark and slipped out before the girls woke up.
The rink was deserted. The ice stretched in front of me, white and smooth as glass. Beyond the rink was The Bean, the huge mirrored silver statue in the shape of a bean that reflected the Michigan Avenue skyline. And farther east was Pritzker, the pavilion where Molly and Zander had gone on their date. Their date. I shook the image from my head, the wind whipping in my ears. If it wasn’t for that stupid date, I wouldn’t have to make this choice.
“Hey!” Zander sat at one of the tables on the far side of the rink, facing the towering buildings on Michigan Avenue. His guitar case leaned against the edge of the round table, and a silver thermos peeked out of the bag at his feet. He waved me over.
“It’s zero degrees out,” I informed him, hurrying around the rink and plopping down next to him. My houndstooth coat sleeve brushed against his wrist, and I suddenly felt jumpy. “What are we doing here?” I shaded my eyes with my palm as the sun lifted higher in the sky, casting gold shadows over the ice.
He shrugged. “I come here sometimes in the morning to think. It’s quiet, you know?” His breath curled in smoky wisps in front of us.
I nodded. When Mom and Dad started fighting a lot, I used to sneak off to the seal tank at the Lincoln Park Zoo. The underwater observatory was dim, and almost completely silent. It was the only place I could go to think.
The morning cold was seeping through my coat, and I leaned a little closer to Zander.
“Here.” He leaned over and pulled the silver thermos out of his bag. I unscrewed the top. Rich, sugary steam rose from inside, and I took a giant gulp of hot chocolate. It burned sliding down my throat.
“Okay. For real,” I sputtered. “What are you doing here?”
“Fine.” He laughed a little and stared down at his lap. There was a giant hole in the left knee of his jeans, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Sometimes I come and try out new songs here. I sort of… pretend I’m playing Pritzker.” The winter flush in his cheeks deepened. “It’s stupid. The grounds people are cleaning up over there anyway, so I had to settle for the rink.”
“It’s not stupid,” I said earnestly. “Sometimes I do live election coverage in the shower.”
“Really?” But he didn’t laugh. He just smiled this small, knowing smile, like he was taking in my secret and holding it safe.
I looked away. “So, uh… you have a new song?” I wrapped my hands around the thermos and squeezed.
He nodded. “Part of it.”
“Can I hear?”
He stared out at the buildings on the other side of Michigan Avenue, like he hadn’t even heard me. I followed his gaze, tried to find the apartment Paige and I had sworn we’d live in when we grew up. But none of the buildings looked familiar.
“So you know that footage The Beat filmed at rehearsal the other day?” Zander finally said.
“Of my terrible freestyling?” I snorted.
He grinned. “He posted it on our website—”
“ONLINE?” I whacked him in the arm.
“—and we got a call from this talent scout,” Zander finished with a proud smile. “He’s setting up a showcase at that coffee house next to Vinyl Destination. It’s for a bunch of up-and-coming bands.”
“What?” My shriek echoed over the ice.
“It’s called Rock Chicago. And he wants us to perform.”
“Like a real gig?”
“Like a real gig.” He lifted his sticker-covered guitar case and unsnapped the hinges.
A showcase? Meaning… me and Gravity on a stage, with spotlights and a real, live audience?
“This is amazing!” I held out my gloved hand and he slapped it.
“I know! We have to get a set together, like now. The show is next Friday.”
The cold from the bench seeped through the thin fabric of my jeans, slowly freezing me from the outside as Zander’s words sank in. Next Friday. But I might not even be in the band the next Friday, not if I dropped out like Molly wanted.
Zander pulled out the guitar and began to strum. “I don’t think this new song is ready yet… but here goes.”
The opening chords were slow, and there was even a little hesitation between them. It was the kind of music that made you breathe a little easier. The kind that made you forget the life-changing decision you had to make, if only for a little while.
When Zander finally started to sing, his voice was softer than usual.
And it’s so
easy to see
what you
thought she would be
but you
just didn’t know what was underneath.
And she’s
proving you wrong
with every
breath, every song
like she’s
known all along that you would see
who she could be,
who she would be,
when she was free.
I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until the last chord faded.
My eyes snapped open, and I stared straight ahead, watching taxicabs weave in and out of traffic on the glinting street below. But I couldn’t hear the cars, or the honking horns, or the screeching of the train on the tracks. The only thing I could hear was us, Zander and me, breathing in and out together.
“That’s uh, all I’ve got so far,” he said, breaking the silence. “It’s just a first shot, so I’ll probably end up scratching the—”
“It’s good,” I said quickly, still staring straight ahead.<
br />
“Yeah?” He sounded hopeful. “You like it? You don’t think I should change—”
“Nope.” I shook my head. And it was true. I, Kacey Simon, had absolutely no advice to give. None. The song had to be about me. With every breath, every song? Molly wasn’t the one belting out Gravity tunes every day after school.
“Anyway, she’s all yours.” Zander lifted the guitar and rested it carefully in my lap.
“What?” I cradled the body so it wouldn’t slip to the ground. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s yours,” he said again. “I got a new one yesterday. So you should have this one. Learn to play on it, if you want.”
“Oh. Wow,” I said stupidly. I held the fret board tightly, feeling the tension of the strings beneath my fingertips. The gift wasn’t a huge deal, right? Zander was just being nice. It didn’t mean… anything. “Thanks.” I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Something inside was warning me not to.
“Um, Kacey?” Zander leaned toward me, and I flinched. Even in the bitter cold, he smelled like warm leather and guitar polish. “Is… everything okay?” He rested his hand on my arm, forcing me to turn.
When I did, our faces were just inches apart. He was so close I could feel the heat coming off his body. A voice in my head was screaming at me to run. But I was completely powerless, drawn in. I searched his face, and his eyes met mine, warm and soft. It felt like someone had tied our souls together with steel cables. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.
Because I, Kacey Simon, had a raging crush on a BOY IN SKINNY JEANS.
The realization burned inside me like subzero temperatures. My stomach bottomed out, and I suddenly had the sensation that I was falling, like in a dream. I grabbed the edge of the table and gripped it tightly to steady myself. No. I take it back. I couldn’t like Zander. Not now. Not when things were just starting to get back to normal. Not when I had a shot at the lead again, onstage and in seventh. Not when I was just starting to be Kacey Simon again.
It dawned on me that Molly was right: I had to choose. Zander and music, or the old me. The real me.
“Kacey?” Zander shook my arm, bringing me back to reality. His eyes widened, trailing over my features. “Seriously. You okay? You don’t look so good.”