Instructions for Dancing(23)

“What’s the other part?”

He examines my face for a few seconds. I get the feeling he’s trying to decide how much to trust me with. “A friend of mine died last year. Clay. He was our bassist.”

“Oh, X, I’m so sorry.”

He nods down at his hands. “Me too.”

I don’t think he’s going to say anything else, but then he does. “The band was me, Clay, Jamal on drums and Kevin on keys. We almost called ourselves The Lonely Onlys.”



“How come?”

“Not a whole lot of Black kids in the Lake Elizabeth school system,” he says with a smile. “Clay and I knew each other from middle school. We met Kevin and Jamal at band tryout freshman year of high school. We said it was a miracle that there were four of us.” The memory of the day is in his eyes. “And before you give me a hard time again, I didn’t pick the name X Machine myself.”

“When did I give you a hard time?”

“Seriously? You don’t remember? When we first met. Your exact words were ‘So the band is named after you?’?”

“Are you sure?” I ask, even though I remember perfectly. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

“You have an evil twin sister?”

“No.”

“Then it was you.”

We grin at each other.

“Clay came up with the name. He said since I was front man and the band was my idea, it was only right. We all thought X Machine sounded like we were from the future.” He drops his head back against the headrest. He swallows once and then twice, like he’s trying to hold down something that wants to come out. “It happened so fast. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone.”

Now I get it. I understand why he says yes to everything and why he tries to live in the moment. It’s because his friend died. He’s not being pretentious, like I thought he was. Like I hoped he was. He’s smart and thoughtful and funny, maybe even a little philosophical.



I need for him to be altogether less…everything.

I need for him to have a secret stash of toenail clippings or nose hairs.

The bus makes a wide left turn. I slide along the seat and my shoulder presses into his. I have to wait for the turn to end before I can pull away again.

“We were planning to move out here after high school anyway. After Clay died, me and the guys decided to seize the day. We dropped out of high school.”

“Wait. You dropped out of high school?”

“Yeah.”

“But aren’t you a senior? You only had one semester to go.”

“Some things can’t wait, Evie.”

“Is that why you broke up with Jess?” I ask. “To move out here and become a rock star?”

“Wow, I’m surprised you remember her name,” he says.

“I have a good memory for names,” I say. I mean, I don’t actually, but it’s better if he thinks I do.

“Jess and I weren’t going to work out. We didn’t fit.”

There’s so much I want to ask about why they didn’t fit, but I definitely should not be delving into his love life. Now’s a good time for a topic switch, I decide.

“How do your parents feel about you dropping out of school?”

“Poorly,” he says. He turns to look at me. “You ever wanted something so bad you couldn’t wait?”

“Yeah,” I say, but I don’t elaborate. The day I rode from school all the way to Santa Monica to try to convince Dad to come home was the most I’ve ever wanted anything.



We spend the rest of the tour mostly lost in our own thoughts. “Sorry we didn’t see any stars,” I say as we’re getting off the bus.

“No worries. Still got something out of it.”

“What?”

“We did the assignment and got to know each other a little.”

Fifi. Right. I kind of lost sight of the reason we were hanging out in the first place.

“We might even become friends,” he says.

“Fifi said we had to get to know each other, not like each other,” I say, teasing.

“Yeah, but you like me. I can tell.”

“Have you ever heard the expression ‘She rolled her eyes so hard she saw her own brain’?”

He slaps his hand to his chest and laughs a loud, wide-open laugh. It’s a great laugh.

“Can we at least agree that you don’t hate me?” he asks.

“I don’t hate you,” I say.

He throws an arm around me and grins. “Well, that’s a start,” he says.





CHAPTER 20





By Act Two



Sophie, “Me,” Cassidy and Martin >

Sophie: Wow, another date?

Me: It. Is. Not. A. Date

Cassidy: Lemme get this straight. The v hot rocker invited u 2 c him play his guitar & sing his songs with his band @ his v first gig in LA?

Martin: Jesus, Cassidy, would it kill you to write the words out? I just had to read that five times

Cassidy: F U

Cassidy: Anyway

Cassidy: How hot is he exactly?

Me: You don’t even like boys

Cassidy: Rockstars r not boys. They’re not even human. They’re a separate species