The Secrets of Attraction (35 page)

“Only a little,” I said.

The three of us left the studio and went next door to Mugshot. Jesse was behind the counter with Tanner. At the sight of him my heart quickened—what did he think of me, after I'd practically attacked him in his VW and just stomped off? I knew I had to face him sometime, and maybe a well-lit, noisy café would be a good buffer against my angst. I'd been emotionally fragile with him, there was no going back from that, and I had to deal with all the weird, jangled feelings that came from sharing so much of myself with someone.

I kept my eyes down as we inched up to the counter. How would he react to seeing me? Could I blame him if he didn't want to deal with me? I imagined the worst, but when I looked into his eyes, they were soft, inviting. He smiled at me from under the well-worn rim of his Mugshot hat.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

Wren spoke up. “Three chai lattes, for here. Oh, and a black coffee for Gray. He's stopping by to pick us up.”

“Ah,
here
—you're throwing me off my game.” Tanner put the cups he'd been about to juggle down and cast a sidelong glance at Jazz. She smiled back at him. Their flirtation momentarily lightened my mood.

“You don't mind. We can hang out awhile, right?” she asked him.

“You can hang out as long as you want, Jasmine,” he said. “I don't know about those other two, though.” Tanner winked at us. Winked. The boy had grown a pair and developed some flirting skills. There was some hope for him after all.

Wren nudged me and grinned. “They'd kind of be cute together.”

She handed Jesse a twenty and we found a table near the window. Five minutes later he brought our drinks to us. He lingered a moment, looked at me. My stomach hollowed out. I should have been the one to make the first move.

“Can we talk a minute?” he asked.

I slipped out of my seat and followed him to a narrow hallway behind the counter. We leaned on opposite walls. He looked out at the growing line that Tanner seemed to be keeping on top of, at least for the moment. He turned back to me.

“About last night—”

“Jess—I was totally out of line, I'm sorry. I believe what you said about Hannah. I do. I don't get like this normally. I like you. A lot. And . . . this—” I was spluttering. Uncomfortable. Jesse waited, a small smile crossing his face.

“Me too.” He leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“So you're not mad I attacked you, then basically ran off?” I asked.

“Um, no—I hope we can do it again sometime, in a more private place.”

I laughed, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “That would be awesome.”

“I was worried you were upset about that number in my pocket, you know, the napkin . . . I thought . . . you do know about that, right? The way you looked at it..”

I briefly entertained the thought of lying. Not a good way to start, though.

“Yeah, I did, but I figured if it was still in your pocket, you probably didn't use it,” I said, using Wren's wisdom to cover my jealous ass.

“Cool.”

“Hey, Jess, I hate to break this up but—” Tanner motioned with his head to the growing line.

“Be right there.” He stood up straight, adjusted his hat.

“So um, are you coming to the battle tomorrow night?”

“I wouldn't miss it,” I said.

“Great,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

We left the hallway and parted ways. I turned back.

“Hey, Jess.”

“Yeah?”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Grayson was sitting with Wren and Jazz when I returned. The three of them had goofy-ass grins on their faces as I sat down. I sipped my chai and ignored them.

“Hey, do you have to go right home after this?” I asked them.

“I don't.”

“Me either.”

“Guess not,” Grayson answered. “What's up?”

“Think we could make a slight detour before heading home? There's something I need to get.”

The following night, I took my time getting ready. I wanted to look special for Jesse . . . for me . . . because it felt good to be going somewhere with my friends and that my main concern was perfecting my smoky eyes and picking out my skirt and boots for the evening. The finishing touch was the Yellow #5 shirt. Wren's dad was dropping us off at the high school and I had fifteen minutes left to get ready. There was a knock on my bedroom door.

“Hey, Mads.” My mother walked in holding the Laughing Buddha statue I'd stopped by the store to get last night after class. She sat on the foot of my bed and smiled. “Noticed this on the mantel this morning. Thank you for replacing it, you didn't have to.”

“Yes, I did. I'm sorry about that.” I stopped getting ready and looked at her. “I'm sorry—I know I haven't been that supportive of you getting into yoga. I think—what you're doing is incredible, Mom. You're going to be an awesome instructor.”

“You really think so? Sometimes, I wonder.”

“It's a good fit for you. And you look cute in the yoga pants.”

She laughed. “Where are you off to tonight?”

“Jesse's in the Battle of the Bands over at Bergen Point tonight. Going to cheer them on.”

“Sounds fun, what time does that start?”

“Eight-ish. Not sure what time he goes on. Wren and Jazz will be here in less than fifteen.”

“Oh . . . Paul is coming by tonight. He's leaving tomorrow, you know that, right?”

“What? No—he didn't say, I know he's leaving, but already? He—wow, he never mentioned it the other day.”

My mother shook her head. “It doesn't surprise me. I had to bribe him with Palermo's pizza and a bottle of his favorite cab to even stop by tonight, he's not one for good-byes. He doesn't really consider this good-bye, though.”

“But it is, isn't it?”

Anger I thought I'd worked through bubbled up again. Was the other day good-bye? And he wasn't even going to tell me? I thought about my tentative plan to apply to summer architect programs in California. What was the use now? If he hadn't even wanted to say good-bye, why would he want me to live with him for a few weeks?

“Mom, I'll try to get back, but I need to see Jesse. It's important to me.”

“Well, maybe he'll still be here when you get home.”

“I doubt it.”

My mother stood up and put a hand on my shoulder. “Madison, it's a lot to take in. We won't figure this out all at once. I told you before—this
is
happy news to Paul. Very. Don't forget.”

“So happy he's pretty much running away.”

“Well—you know, sometimes it's hard to change.”

“Maybe he should start taking yoga, so he can live his truth.”

“I'll have to tell him you said that.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

“DUDE, YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN, WE'VE GOT
this thing,” Grayson said.

“I'm trying,” I said.

Being stuck in a vestibule along with the other bands and various equipment was about as fun as being naked in a cage with a rabid honey badger. Although, truth be told, a honey badger would have probably smelled better. Not everyone, it seemed, cared about hygiene, and the small space made that painfully evident. My nerves were live wires, I could barely stand still in the two feet of space we had surrounding us. At least the door had windows so I could see into the gym.

There were two stages, so as one band played, the other could set up their equipment. Thankfully, Plasma didn't share our staging area; they waited in the hallway on the other side of the gym. Sharing a cramped space with Kenny or Duncan would have made me even edgier. I'd seen them, nodded in a sort of “Good luck, may the best band win” kind of way, but they had just sort of stared, trying to psych us out. Out of six bands, we were set to go on third. Smack-dab in the middle. Not the most enviable spot, but it was the luck of the draw. Plasma was the closing band. Tanner thought it was fixed.

I paced back and forth, occasionally peeking out into the gym, which did nothing to calm my nerves. The Battle of the Bands always drew a decent crowd, and the space was already starting to fill in. I kept looking for one face, though, and ten minutes until the battle was supposed to start, Madison was nowhere to be seen. Her absence wasn't the reason I was nervous. She said she'd be there and I believed her.

The real reason it felt like my blood was replaced with pure adrenaline was that I was about to throw the competition and I had no idea how I was going to break it to Tanner and Grayson.

After the weirdness with Madison in my car, I'd gone home and finished the song. Her song. I couldn't handle playing it for her one on one, I'd be too self-conscious—but being on a stage where I could get lost in the energy of the crowd would somehow make it easier. I didn't plan on singling her out, I knew how she felt about grand gestures, but she would know it was for her.

Grayson would be easier to persuade. This was all new to him, and while I knew he wanted to win, he wouldn't think twice about me doing the song. He'd said as much at practice.

Tanner was a different story. It was now or never. I grabbed his arm.

“Dude, I have to talk to you,” I said.

“Shoot,” he said.

“Not here.”

His upper lip curled. “Where we gonna go?”

I looked around. He had a point. I turned my back to the small area, forming our own corner and motioned for them to come closer.

“Okay, I'm starting to feel like a douche, Jess, are we going to join hands and do a power chant or something?”

“This from the guy wearing the hat,” Grayson said.

“
Lucky
hat.”

“The song is done. It's good. I want to play it for Madison.”

That was as plain as I could make it.

Tanner breathed out hard, staring up at the ceiling before answering. “I thought we talked about this. Just save it for May.”

“I just . . .”

“Want to impress a girl. Did you know about this?” He turned to Gray. Gray shook his head.

“No, this is sort of a game-time call. Look, I can't explain it, I just think . . . I think she needs to hear this. We're already better than Plasma—we know that, does it really—”

“How could you spring this on us now? Why is it more important than us trying our best to win this thing?”

“Because it just is.”

Tanner's face fell. He shook his head. “It's still all about you.”

He spun away, knocking into the girl singer from the band who was set to go on first. “Sorry,” he mumbled as she scowled.

“T, wait,” I said as he shouldered his way over to a set of double doors. Through the glass window I saw him storm off into the locker room, out to the area where we unloaded our equipment earlier.

“I shouldn't have asked.”

“Jess, you wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important. I'll go talk to him,” Gray said.

I nodded as he walked off in search of Tanner. Was Tanner right? Was it all about me? I hadn't meant for it to come out like that—I wanted to win, I did, but . . . wasn't music more about reaching people, making them feel something instead of this stupid competition?

I peered out into the gym and finally spotted Madison, standing between Wren and Jazz. She wore the Yellow #5 shirt. Her smile a small, still vote of confidence in the crowd. My heart wigged out at the sight of her. What the hell had I been thinking? The song was too personal to share, it needed work. . . . I sounded clumsy. . . . What if I totally screwed it up and blew it?

Mr. Katz, our gym/driver's ed teacher/emcee for the night, tapped a mic on the far stage, welcoming everyone and announcing that the first band would be on in five. My stomach coiled tight. I needed to find T and Grayson. I wove my way around the other bands, pushed through the doors, and found the darkened locker room. There was a door open to the outside on the far end. I raced toward the sliver of streetlamp and out into the parking lot behind the school. Tanner sat on the curb. Gray stood next to him.

“Hey, you know, just forget it,” I said. “We'll do our five best songs, that's it.”

“No, do the song, Jess,” Gray said.

“I can't.”

Tanner sprang up.

“Now you need me to tell you how great you are, right? Because that's how it always works with us.”

“No, you were right. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for you putting up the money, filling out the application. I'm just, it was stupid of me . . . arrogant.”

He breathed out, crossed his arms.

“Chickenshit.”

“What?”

“Just play the song you wrote for Madison. Okay? You're wimping out, that's worse than losing on purpose.”

“What if it sucks?”