Kissing Ted Callahan (and Other Guys)(24)

“Yeah, I’m free almost every night.” He shakes his head. “I sound like a loser. It’s just not a busy week.”

“I get it,” I say. “I have Yearbook and band and Family Night, but I’ll figure something out. We should definitely hang out.”

After school I hover near Ted’s locker in the hallway. He smiles when he heads over.

“Hey, Riley,” he says. “Thanks for waiting.”

“No problem,” I say.

We’re quiet as we walk to my car, but it feels normal and not bad for Ted to be quiet, so I don’t panic. When I start the car, the volume of the Titus Andronicus CD in my stereo is up way louder than I remember it being this morning, and my hand flies over to the volume almost automatically to prevent Ted and me from both being deafened.

“What band is this?” Ted asks instead of saying “Now I will never make out with you because you almost took the sound out of my life forever,” which is what I’m expecting.

“Titus Andronicus,” I say.

“Oh, I think I saw them at FYF Fest over the summer,” he says. “Did you?”

“No! My parents picked that week for family vacation, so I was exploring Colonial Williamsburg instead.” I’m still annoyed I’d been off dipping wicks in wax to make sad misshapen candles instead of seeing a ton of amazing bands.

“It was kind of lame, actually,” Ted says. “Not the music, which was cool, even though I didn’t really know any of the bands.”

He didn’t really know any of the bands? HE DIDN’T REALLY KNOW ANY OF THE BANDS?

“But it was out in this park without any shade, and it took me an hour waiting in line to get this kind of gross tuna sandwich to eat. I’m still glad my cousin took me, though.”

“Yeah, my friend Reid went; he said the same thing, except for the tuna sandwich part. I did learn about churning butter at least.”

Ted laughs, this actual laugh like I am an actual hilarious person. I forgive him for not being as cool about music as I’d suspected. “My mom went there once when she was little. She’s always telling us about it like she actually time traveled. It’s a little weird.”

“It’s kind of like that, to be fair to your mom,” I say, and wonder if it’s okay to defend Ted’s mom to him.

Why can’t I think of anything else to say now? We’re not quite to his mom’s office yet. I have talking time. I have Make Ted Fall In Love With Me time. Whyyyy aren’t I using it wisely? Riley, get it together. Say something. Keep Ted in the car as long as possible.

“They also make wigs!” I exclaim.

Ted stares at me. “What?”

“In Colonial Williamsburg,” I say. “That’s all.”

“Oh.”

We are quiet until I pull up to his mom’s office building. And I have earned every single painful time-bending moment that ticks by.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE



The Vanderbilts Show, by Riley


I meet Milo in front of the Echo on Tuesday night, and when I’m walking up to him I’m crazy nervous he won’t actually have the ID, but once I see him I forget FOR JUST A MOMENT because he looks exactly like the kind of guy who’d hang out all casual in front of the Echo. He’s wearing a Daft Punk T-shirt and a stripey cardigan that wouldn’t look good on most guys, but most guys are not Milo.

(Yes, Reid, what I’m saying is, I’m not sure cardigans are for you.)

And then… it happens! He gives me what completely looks like a real California driver’s license proclaiming my name is Jennifer Anne Matthews. I try to be casual like a rock star but I can’t help leaping around a little while thanking him.

We go to Two Boots for pizza, since we have time before the show starts. I pay for our slices (I know you’ll ask, so the answer is, we each get a piece of the Newman and of the Dude), since Milo won’t take money for the ID, and it’s the nicest thing I can think to do.

We talk about the last shows we’ve seen (Milo: Modern Marvel, me: Bleached) and upcoming shows we’re playing (Milo: his school’s football game Friday night, me: the fall formal).

After we eat, we walk back to the Echo and show our IDs (!!!) to the bouncer, who lets us right through. Probably I should have been nervous about that whole transaction, but luckily I forgot to be because Milo was being so cool about everything and I guess it rubbed off on me. Once we’re inside I feel superprivileged to be here on a night when no one else my age should be. (Sorry, Reid, but it’s true.)

Milo asks if I want a beer, and I accidentally blurt out, "You can get us beers?" I’m shocked, but then I remember fake IDs do more than get you into shows you are dying to see. They’re multipurpose! So we each have a beer, and we find an excellent spot to stand near the stage. As you know, the best spot is right between the amps and speakers, but where I still have a good view of the drummer. Also where a tall dude can’t stand in front of me, because it seems amazing how tall dudes always come to the same shows I do and manage to find the one open space in front of me.

While Stool Boom, the first opener, is setting up, Milo says: "I listened to your demo tracks. I can pick out drums. You’re really good.”

It is maybe the best thing a guy’s ever said to me ever.