Rule 23: I know you can’t wait for this moment: If you come face-to-face with The Ex, you must let him know what he has lost by flirting with him, touching him, and doing whatever the situation calls for.
The Thursday before open-mike night, Raven still hadn’t figured out what she was going to do. Defy her mother? Or quit the band? She shook her head at her own thoughts as she headed toward third hour.
Footsteps fell around the corner of the next hallway. Raven slowed. The heavy boots on the tile—dum, dum, dum—told Raven exactly who it was. Not only that, but she could sense Caleb was nearby, like a deer might sense some moron trudging through the woods. Instinct told her to run, run far away!
She hurried, trying to get into the next hallway before Caleb saw her.
“Raven! Wait a sec!”
Too late. Raven cringed. Should she pretend she hadn’t heard him? Keep going? Disappear inside the bathroom? Maybe she should run right out the door and never look back. Caleb was like a thorn in her side now. She was almost embarrassed that she’d gone out with him at all.
“Hey,” he said, slipping in front of her before she had the chance to run. “I got you something.” He pulled a rose from behind his back.
“What’s this for?” she said.
“It’s an apology.”
Was he serious? Had she somehow stumbled into the fourth dimension? Because this was not the Caleb she knew. The Caleb she knew didn’t apologize for anything. He probably didn’t even know the meaning of an apology.
“Caleb—” This was really not a good time for him to play her. She had been in a bad mood since her mother forbade her to sing with Horace’s band.
Singing and hanging out with those guys had been the one good thing she had done since Caleb broke up with her. She looked forward to every single practice she could sneak in, but now she hadn’t been over there in almost a week and it was starting to get to her. She missed Horace and Dean and even Hobb. She missed singing.
It was this bad mood that propelled her to do what she did next.
She took the rose from Caleb’s hand. “Thanks, baby,” she cooed just like she used to when they were together. Giving the rose a customary sniff, she got in close to him.
Running a hand down his arm, she flicked her eyes up. His lids were at half-mast as he slipped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her into him. She snuggled up and tilted her head as if waiting for a kiss.
Caleb leaned over, and just as he went in for the lip-lock, Raven turned her face away. “Sorry,” she said, tapping the rose against his chest, “but you broke up with me, remember?” She arched a brow. “Then humiliated me in front of the whole school by kissing some random chick. Take your rose and shove it, Caleb, ‘cause us breaking up was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
With that, she swiveled on her heels and walked away.
That was like a breath of fresh air, Raven thought. She slouched in her chair as she waited for the final bell to ring and her US history class to begin. Or, really, for Horace to show up and take the seat next to her.
Less than a minute later, he walked in the door, his brown leather boots scuffling across the floor. He smiled when they locked eyes and he made his way through the aisle of desks over to his.
“Hey, Ray,” he said, turning sideways in his seat. “Are you still grounded?”
“Yeah,” Raven said, rolling her eyes, “but I’m working on my mother. I just can’t promise anything.” Dread filled her stomach even thinking about it. “Working” on her mother wasn’t going to get her anywhere, most likely. Her mother was stubborn as a mule when it came to the things she thought were “good” for her daughters.
“Open-mike night is this weekend. We really need to practice at least once before the show,” Horace said.
“I know.” Raven tapped her pencil against her book. “Maybe you should find someone else.” It pained her to say the words aloud. She didn’t want them to find someone else. She wanted to do it, and the thought of letting another chick take her spot made the dread turn into a hard lump of envy.
“No way,” Horace said, and Raven settled with relief. “We want you. Your voice is perfect for the songs.”
A smile pulled her lips tight. She was probably glowing right about now. “But what if I can’t get away?”
“We’ll figure something out,” he said, sounding sure of it.
Raven, though, was having a hard time believing him.
“If it makes you that happy, you have to do it,” Alexia told Raven later that day at lunch. “You’ll always regret not trying.”
Raven popped the tab on her can of Coke. “But what am I going to do about my mother?”
“You can lie,” Kelly said, ripping her turkey sandwich into tiny little bites.
“Like what?” Raven asked. “Tell her I’m studying at the library?”
Sydney snorted. “I don’t think that’ll fly.”
Everyone turned their attention to Sydney. She’d been grumpy all week. Raven figured it had something to do with Drew and the breakup, but Sydney wasn’t confessing anything.
“Right.” Kelly nodded. “You could tell her you’re at my house studying for a huge history test.”
“You can use me, too,” Alexia said. “Just let me know before, in case your mom calls or something.”
“Thanks, but even if I do get away to practice, my mother’s still going to find out eventually. I mean, we’re playing at the open-mike night at Scrappe. My mom’s going to be there, and then I won’t just be grounded, I’ll be locked in my bedroom forever with SAT workbooks and college applications.”
Alexia popped a chip in her mouth and crunched it up. “But if it’s important to you, you have to do it. That’s what my mom always says. You can’t let something pass by because you don’t have the courage or because someone says you can’t. You’ll regret not doing it and then what?”
Raven nodded, letting Alexia’s advice sink in. Playing with Horace and the band made her happy, but it’d make her mother furious. What would her dad do? If anyone could understand her love for music, he could. And he might just be the only person who could talk Raven’s mother out of the grounding.
Raven knew that the best time to catch her dad was on a Friday afternoon. He worked six days a week, sometimes twelve hours a day, but he always took Fridays off. He always said it was his favorite day of the week. There was something hopeful about Fridays.
Now he sat across from Raven at a red-flecked table in Striker’s. He was the only one in the whole place who wore a full suit, a silk tie, and dress shoes that were shinier than the chrome appliances in the diner’s kitchen.
Mr. Andrews pushed his wire-framed glasses back up the bridge of his nose and looked at his daughter. “So what’s going on, Raven? Talk to your daddy.”
Raven hadn’t called him “Daddy” since she was in seventh grade, but he always referred to himself that way and she never corrected him. She took a drink from her chocolate shake then twirled the straw through the thick drink.
“Mom grounded me because I was singing with a band.”
Mr. Andrews inhaled deeply and crumpled a napkin in his large hands. “You know how your mother views music and bands.”
“I know.”
He shook his head. “Raven, I loved music when I was your age and I wanted it more than anything. Your mother gave me a chance with it and I failed. She doesn’t want to see you fail. I don’t want to see you fail.”
Raven’s dad had been out of their house for so many years now that he’d developed a separate scent from Raven and her mother and Jordan. His was deeper, muskier, like woodsy chocolate. She smelled it now and suddenly realized how much she’d missed him. The fault for their recent silence couldn’t rest entirely on him. She could have called him, too. When she asked for his help, he was always there. Like now. He would push aside any business he had to help his daughters.
“Dad, I need to do this.” She shoved her milk shake aside. “This is important to me—and how in the world am I going to learn anything if I’m not allowed to try? You and Mom can’t always protect me. Please tell her to let me go to the school’s open-mike night and sing.”
He picked up half of his BLT and took a bite. He wiped his hands on a napkin and chewed up his food before answering. The wait was nearly unbearable.
“Listen, I’m not going to tell your mother what to do. If she thinks what she’s doing is right, then I have to respect that.” He leaned forward conspiratorially and lowered his voice. “But let it be known that if I listened to what everyone else said, I wouldn’t be where I am today.” He sat back and winked at her. “Now finish your milk shake.”
Raven took the glass between her hands and smiled. She knew exactly what she was going to do.