At the teeter-totter Denny says, “Let’s get some shots of Ace on harmonica.”
I’m glad to put the guitar down. When I take out the harmonica box, though, it’s not there. Maybe it’s on vacation with the boom box Denny forgot.
“I can’t play this little one in the rack,” I say. “It slips around.”
“Then just hold it in your fingers,” Denny says. “I’m overdubbing anyway, remember?”
Lisa and I sit on opposite ends of the teeter-totter. It’s a pretty good balance. I’m not very big. I hold the little harmonica with one hand and try to play it as we bounce up and down. Denny films us. I’ve still got the earbuds in, so I try to keep us bouncing in time to the music. The thing is, Lisa’s top bounces in time to the music too—a lot. Right in front of my eyes. I have to close them to keep from staring.
“Look happy!” Denny calls.
I open my eyes. How can I look happy? I feel like a dork. Then I see he might not be yelling at me. Lisa definitely does not look happy.
“Stop,” she says. “Stop!” She’s flapping one hand. Something white is poking out of that low front on her top. It doesn’t fit the way it did before.
Then, as her end of the teeter-totter goes down, Lisa hops off—while I’m in the air. I slam down butt first and fall back into the dirt. The earbuds pop out, and the harmonica pops into my mouth.
“Hey!” I squawk, except that what comes out is a sound like an accordion in a fish tank. I’m too stunned to move. I start to struggle up, trying to spit out the stupid harmonica.
Someone grabs me around the waist from behind, hauls me up and Heimlichs me. The harmonica pops out with a soggy gurgle, and I almost blow a few chunks along with it.
“Ho-ly!” Denny says.
The arms around me let go. “Are you okay?” Lisa pants behind me.
“I—Yeah, I think so…” I rub the skin under my rib cage, and I turn to Lisa. She’s red in the face and all messed up. The white thing is poking from her neckline again, and another one is about to fall out where the bottom of her top has come away from her jeans.
I guess she sees me noticing this, because her face gets even redder, and she spins away. Then she hurries over to her guitar case, stuffs something inside and snaps the fasteners.
“I have to go now,” she says without turning around.
“We’ve probably got lots anyway,” Denny says.
“We do?” I say. I’m still a little shaky. Plus, my butt hurts, and something is choking my neck.
“Sure,” says Denny. “We only need, like, three minutes and whatever.”
“Okay,” Lisa says. “Sorry. Gotta go, there’s stuff I have to do. Sorry. I forgot. I’ll text you or something, Ace.”
“Yeah, okay.” I’m guessing this isn’t a good time to ask if she’s busy tonight. Then I remember. “Hey, I’ve got your phone.” I limp over, unwinding the earbud wire from my neck. That’s what was choking me.
“Thanks.” Lisa takes the phone from me. She’s still red in the face. I’m trying not to look at her deflated top. “Later,” she says and heads out of the park, texting.
“Wow, how cool was that?” Denny says when I limp back to him. “She popped her chicken cutlets.”
“Den,” I say, “shut up.”