CAUGHT BETWEEN A ROCK STAR
AND A HARD PLACE
Monday, 3:27 P.M.
“I’m telling you. It’s my hidden talent,” Zander insisted that afternoon after school. “Bet you five bucks.” His steely gray eyes ignited at the prospect of a challenge, and the royal-blue streak in his long bangs flashed under the spotlights above us.
“I don’t knowwww,” I teased, shedding my black suede trench. I took a seat across from him, a steaming latte already at my place. We’d decided to meet at the café next to Vinyl Destination, the coolest record store in Chicago’s Andersonville neighborhood. Actually, I’d decided on the café. Zander had suggested Sugar Daddy, but the possibility of running into Molly and the girls during my first “spy session” with Zander made my hair crimp eighties-music-video-style. Fortunately, my chosen hangout was dark and empty, except for the skinny dude slouched behind the dark wooden coffee bar. “I’d have to see it to believe it.”
“Any song. Any voice or accent.” Zander angled his chair so his back was to the empty stage—the same stage where he’d lost his mojo at the showcase Friday night.
“Without laughing.”
“Without laughing.” He popped the collar on the plaid button-down he wore over a faded HARD ROCK LIFE T-shirt, homage to his old band in Seattle.
“You’re on. Five bucks.” I yanked up my sleeves and planted my elbows on the round black table between us. “Um, ‘Go Your Own Way.’ As… Kermit the Frog.”
He winced. The Fleetwood Mac tune was the same song he’d bombed with Friday night. “Nice song choice.”
“You gotta try it again sometime, right? This way, it’ll be the song you sang when you lost five bucks. Not the song you sang when—”
“Okay, okay. Don’t remind me!” He disappeared beneath the table and popped up a few seconds later, holding a familiar acoustic guitar. “You could at least give me a hard one.”
He’d tried to give me that guitar a week ago, when we were sitting around the Millennium Park skating rink. My insides had been colder than the wintry air as I’d told him I had to quit Gravity to reclaim my lead in Marquette’s production of Guys and Dolls. It had been a seriously inconvenient time to figure out that I had feelings for him. And an even worse time for him to flip out, take back his guitar, and refuse to speak to me for a few days.
The sound of Zander’s fingers plucking the strings drew me back to the present. “Loving you… isn’t the right thing to do.” His Kermit was so dead-on, it was freaky. And I know a good Kermit when I hear one. Ella was Miss Piggy for Halloween two years ago. In preparation for the role, she’d forced me to watch every Muppet movie ever made.
I giggled, settling back into my chair and lifting my latte in a toast. The steam beneath the white plastic lid tickled my nose and sent a warm, tingly feeling through my body. “Just don’t laugh! Don’t do it!”
Zander’s jaw pulsed as he tried to keep it together. This was too easy.
I glanced around the café to be sure we were still alone.
“If I could,” I chimed in with my best Miss Piggy. “Maybe I’d give you my woooorld.”
Zander’s face cracked into a grin.
“You lose!” I smacked the table triumphantly. “Five bucks, Jarvis. Cough it up.”
“That wasn’t a laugh! I’m not laughing,” he protested, biting his lip so hard his forehead crinkled in pain. “And you cheated!”
“Hey.” I lifted my hands in surrender. “All’s fair in lo—” I swallowed the rest of the word before it escaped. Everything wasn’t fair in love and war. At least not according to Molly. Girl Code, I repeated to myself silently. Girl Code. Girl Code.
“You okay?” Zander pressed his palm over the strings, silencing his guitar. His cheeks looked suddenly rosy under the fluorescent lights.
“Yeah. Yeah. Sure,” I said, too quickly. “I mean, uh—I actually wanted to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m good.” He toyed with the leather cuff bracelet on his wrist. “How come?”
“Because of the breakup?” Either Zander was playing cool to mask his devastation, or he honestly didn’t care. For the record, I was a staunch supporter of Option B.
“Oh. That. No, I’m fine.” He pushed back his chair and stretched out his legs. Instead of his usual skinny jeans, he was wearing a pair of regular jeans, the wash so dark they had to be new. “It’s… whatever. It’s probably a good thing.” His blue bangs flopped over his eyes.
“Yeah. A good thing.” I drummed my fingers on the table. A good thing. Good because he and Molly were polar opposites? Good because he was into somebody else, somebody who just happened to be sitting across from him this VERY SECOND?
I had no idea why girls were always getting such a bad rap. Boys were way more confusing.
“So I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said. “Two, actually.”
“Yeah?” My throat was suddenly dry. I took another sip of my latté.
“Well, the first one’s not really a surprise. I just wanted to give you this. Again.” He lifted the guitar in his lap, nodding for me to take it.
“Zander. Are you sure?” Tentatively, I took it, tracing the circular opening in the instrument’s glossy blond body. “But you learned how to play on this thing. Don’t you want to keep it?”
“Guitars are meant to played,” he insisted. “It’s a thank-you for Friday night. And a welcome-back-to-Gravity present.”
The guitar smelled like Zander—freshly polished wood, leather, and pure perfection. “Thanks.” I squeezed the fret board tight.
“I can teach you to play,” he offered. “Maybe you could play for Gravity, even.”
I snorted. “In like a decade.”
“You gotta start somewhere.” Zander cracked his knuckles and interlaced his fingers behind his head. “Bring it to rehearsal tomorrow. I’ll teach you a couple of chords.”
“ ’Kay.” Waves of excitement and nerves reverberated through me in a rhythm all their own. I hadn’t seen the other members of Gravity—Nelson Lund, Kevin Cho, and The Beat—since Friday night. And I still had no idea how they felt about me rejoining the band.
“Hey.”
I looked up. Zander was smiling.
“It’s gonna be awesome,” he assured me. “We’re all pumped that you’re back.”
How did he read my mind like that? I let my eyes lock with his for a quarter beat, until a tiny voice in the back of my head whispered: Girl Code. Reluctantly, I refocused on the guitar.
“Good. Well, I gotta go.” He jumped up. “I’m supposed to watch my sister while our parents go to this art thing tonight.”
“Okay,” I said, hoping the disappointment in my voice wasn’t obvious. “See you tomorrow?”
“Deal,” Zander said in his Kermit voice. He lifted his palm for a high five, and I clasped it with mine. His palm was soft, electric. GirlCodeGirlCodeGirlCode. “Later.” He headed for the door.
“Oh! Wait! What about my second surprise?” I called.
He turned around, flashing a coy smile. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. You’ll find out tomorrow at rehearsal. You’re gonna love it.” He waved and disappeared through the doorway.
“Yeah,” I murmured, cradling the guitar in my lap. Its shiny surface reflected my flushed cheeks and green eyes. As a general rule, I was not a fan of surprises. Surprises were the off-air equivalent of breaking news. Like my dad telling me he was leaving for good. Or like Ella admitting that she’d mixed Mom’s facial hair removal cream in my shampoo after I’d already lathered, rinsed, and repeated.
But this was different. This was Zander. And if he was excited about it, then it was going to rock.