Kissing Ted Callahan (and Other Guys)(8)

We meet on Thursdays in Ms. Matteson’s room right after school. Bring a notepad or a laptop.





Okay, it’s not exactly a declaration of love, but it’s still amazing Ted Callahan had to think about me and read words I typed. I’m calling it a win for the day.

But then it hits me.

Thursdays are the Gold Diggers’ weeknight practice nights. And Thursdays are important. It took us forever to come up with a night that didn’t conflict with anyone’s extracurriculars or families or Settlers of Catan game nights (okay, that one is just Reid). I’d give up anything for Ted Callahan—like food and water and air—but not my band.


to: [email protected]

from: [email protected] subject: RE: Fencing Club

this sucks, but I have band practice on thursdays so I really can’t join. thanks for letting me know at least. if you ever change nights, i’d be totally interested.

—riley

www.thegolddiggersmusic.com





Hopefully that makes me seem responsible and devoted to my craft, qualities I feel like Ted Callahan would appreciate in a person.

Oh man, maybe Reid’s right. Maybe Ted is a dork.

I’m reading some album reviews at Pitchfork and mulling over the Dork Possibility when Ted Callahan makes a glorious return to my inbox.


to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: RE: Fencing Club

No problem. It’s a good reason to miss it at least!





That’s a nice thing to say, and his lightning-fast response makes it almost like we are chatting in real time, which is an awesome fantasy. No, not awesome, oh my god. I am not so nerdy that my awesome fantasies should include INSTANT MESSAGING.

Then, andIamnotkiddingaboutthis, the (1) is back. Ted, you’re back!


to: [email protected] from: [email protected] subject: RE: Fencing Club

Your band’s demo tracks are really good. Do you guys have any shows coming up?





I call Reid immediately.

“Yo,” he says.

“I think you have to give up ‘yo.’ I don’t think it suits you.”

“It will suit me,” he says. “I’m working on it. What’s up?”

“The Crush just sent me a nice email.”

“I know it’s Ted Callahan. You can just say ‘Ted Callahan.’”

“TED CALLAHAN JUST SENT ME A NICE EMAIL!”

“What does it say?”

I read it to him. I hate how it doesn’t take me any time because that shows it is not exactly a message of epic length.

“It’s good, Ri,” Reid says. “It’s a good sign.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m not saying he’s taking you to prom. I’m saying it’s a good sign.” He pauses. “Though ‘Walk Around’ is solid. And I know you don’t actually want to go to prom.”

“I wish we had a gig coming up,” I say. “Not just because of the Crush—”

“Say his name; it’s weird now.”

“NOT JUST BECAUSE OF TED CALLAHAN. We need a gig. Things have been so weird. We need to feel like a band again.”

“We should talk to Nathan,” Reid says. “He always seems to know stuff.”

“If he knew stuff, wouldn’t we already have a gig?”

Reid’s silent for a moment, and then another. “Do you ever think about the band breaking up?”

“All the time,” I say.

“We’ll start something else,” he says with confidence, like it’s on credit from some cool guy Reid most definitely is not.

“Okay,” I say, not because I believe him, but because I want to.





CHAPTER ELEVEN



Qualities About You That Girls Might Like, by Riley


Great taste in music (and a good vinyl collection for girls who care about that*)

Have your own car and also access to your mom’s

Know about fancy restaurants**

Dress pretty well now

Good at enough of school to be smart, not at so much you’re a geek

Duh, you’re in a band!!





Qualities About You That Guys Might Like, by Reid


Really good taste in music

Hair is good color and length and thickness

Have fun when you’re out, never just stand around looking over it

Pretty good body (refuse to go into details, so don’t ask)

Not popular but everyone seems to like you or think you’re cool

In a band (duh indeed)





CHAPTER TWELVE


“We should think about scheduling a gig,” Reid says at practice the next day.

Nathan and Lucy are leaning over their guitars, tuning up, but they look right up at him.

“What?” Lucy asks. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“WE SHOULD SCHEDULE A GIG,” I say, which is restrained considering the fate of the world, or at least me and Ted, rests on this.

“Are you okay, Riley?” Lucy laughs and goes back to tuning. “Did you have caffeine today?”