At seven thirty she climbed up out of the subway station and found herself back on the same bleak stretch of East Broadway she’d seen a month before. It looked even shabbier tonight, with nary a Christmas decoration in sight and an icy wind blowing in off the East River. She couldn’t remember how to find the entrance to Club Neshka, but when she saw the sad, blinking neon sign that read JOLLY CHAN’S she remembered the secret door. Please, God, let him at least smile when he sees me, she thought as she crossed the street. Or at least not be mad.
She pulled open the heavy iron door and walked into the club. Unlike the last time she’d been here, it was almost empty. Without a sea of hipsters blocking the entrance she only had to wait a few seconds to adjust to the darkness and the twinkle of blue and white Christmas lights before she saw Alex, standing behind his turntables and nodding to the beat as he held a headphone up to one ear. It’s not about me, it’s about the party, she thought as she took a deep breath and headed over to him. Still, the lump in her throat was so big she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to speak.
“Hey,” she asked as she came to stand in front of him. “You take requests?”
His big brown eyes lit up just for a moment, and then turned cold. “Hey,” he said, lowering his headphone. “What are you doing here?”
“Saying hi in person. Since it doesn’t seem to work over the phone.”
Alex fidgeted with his headphones. “I’ve just been really busy. What do you want?”
“Your help,” she said, deciding to cut right to the point. “The dance is going to be a complete disaster. Ava’s had the charity people plan it themselves and the DJ they got thinks Neil Diamond is hip. They need you. Desperately. Can you still do it?”
Alex blinked. “It’s tomorrow night, Carina. And the last day of school before break. I have plans.”
“He’s playing ‘Sweet Caroline’ as the first song,” she countered. “This is serious.”
“And why should I care?” he asked as he pulled a Donna Summer album out of the milk crate.
“Look, I know you’re mad at me,” she said, stepping behind the turntables. “And I don’t blame you. I was wrong. I screwed up. And I was a total coward on top of it. But now everyone at school knows I’m not who they thought. And I couldn’t care less.”
Alex looked up at her. “You don’t?”
“You were right. It was lame of me not to come clean to Ava. I mean, the girl wears leather jeans. Why should I care what she thinks?”
Alex gave her a skeptical look.
“Look. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I really didn’t. For you or Marisol. You’re one of the coolest people I’ve ever met, Alex. You really are. But even if you don’t want to be my friend again, please, please, please help us out. And if your sister can still loan us her artwork, that would be even better.”
Alex dropped the needle onto Donna Summer. “Jeez. You really don’t beat around the bush.” He put down the album cover and looked right at her. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“You will?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I mean, what choice do I have? Neil Diamond?”
“Thank you,” she said, clutching his arm. “Thank you so much. Really. You’re the best.”
Alex glanced down at her hand on his arm. She let him go. She had to be careful with him now.
“Well, I’m beat from exams,” she said, feeling her stomach growl. “But I’ll e-mail you the details and then see you tomorrow night. And thank you. Again.”
“You’re welcome,” he said evenly.
There was a pause as he looked at her in the dim light, and he seemed about to say something more. But then he slid his headphones back over his head. “See you tomorrow night,” he said.
She walked to the door, feeling a strange mixture of pride and sadness. She’d done it. Everything was back on track. But there was something even more awkward between her and Alex now. As if there were still things left to say. She shook off the feeling as she opened the door. They’d had their chance to start something. But she’d blown it, and now she just had to get used to it.