P.S. I Like You(41)

The band, Frequent Stops, was loud but awesome. I would definitely be downloading some of their songs when I got home. I wondered if Cade had ever heard of them before. I’d have to write to him and tell him to add Frequent Stops to his playlist— No. I wouldn’t do that. What was wrong with me?

I glanced at Lucas. His club wardrobe wasn’t much different than his school one, minus the earbuds—jeans and a tee. We’d been here for an hour. Gabriel and Isabel had driven down to Phoenix with me, Isabel talking the entire time, seeming to know how nervous I was. The nerves were mostly unfounded. Lucas was waiting for me outside, with his adorable shaggy, long hair, and he’d given me a slow smile. I’d introduced him to Isabel and Gabriel and we’d all gone inside together, a red underage bracelet attached to each of our wrists.

Now we all stood fifteen feet back from the stage, a little too close to the speakers to hold a normal conversation. I told myself that I hadn’t led us there on purpose.

I’d prove it by talking. “Do you like the band?” I yelled to Lucas.

“What?” He put a hand to his ear and leaned closer.

“Do you like the band?”

He nodded.

“Do you listen to a lot of this kind of music?”

“What?”

“Is this your taste in music?” I asked when he leaned in again, his shoulder brushing mine.

“I like variety,” he replied.

“I wonder how similar our playlists are.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Maybe I had placed us here on purpose.

Isabel tapped my arm then mimed drinking from a cup. “Getting water. Be right back.”

“Okay.”

Lucas said something I couldn’t understand. Maybe we both needed to take a cue from Isabel and start miming.

“What?” I leaned close to him this time.

“Do you want something to drink, too?” he asked, gesturing toward where Isabel and Gabriel were walking toward the bar behind us. It was a small crowd tonight, like it usually was with lesser-known bands.

The lead singer on stage was wailing into the microphone, sweat dripping down his temple.

“I’m okay. Maybe when they break,” I told Lucas.

Lucas either heard me that time or understood my hand motions because he turned his attention back to the front as well.



My ears were still ringing and my chest still buzzing even though we were all outside now, on the far end of a parking lot across the street. The night was calm around us. Concerts always left me buzzing in the best ways. I wasn’t someone who needed to be up there in the spotlight, performing. If I could just hear my words being sung, my chords being strummed by someone breathing life and passion into my ideas, I would be so happy.

We had stopped by Lucas’s car, a navy Ford Focus. Not the car I would’ve imagined him in. He seemed more like a beat-up Corolla guy to me. Not that most people I knew matched their cars. I drove my mom’s minivan most of the time … Okay, well that kind of fit.

Isabel plugged and unplugged her ears several times with her pointer fingers. “They need to issue earplugs on our way in the door.” Her voice was loud, her ears probably ringing.

“You sound like a grandma!” Gabriel teased, but he was speaking extra loud, too.

I giggled.

“That was great,” Lucas said, his crooked smile on.

I smiled. “Amazing. Had you ever heard them before?”

“No, I think they’re local. Pretty new.”

“Now we can say we knew them way back when once they get big.”

“Yes. We’ll be smug about it, too,” Lucas said, and I laughed.

Gabriel nodded. “Maybe by then Lily will be just as big and she can be equally smug.”

Lucas spun his keys once around his finger then stopped it with his palm. “Are you in a band?” he asked me.

“No. Not even close.”

“She plays the guitar and writes music,” Isabel put in.

I shuffled my feet. “I used to—well, I tried to. But not anymore. My guitar is broken.”

Lucas tipped his head to one side. “Is it fixable?”

“Not sure. It’s splintered pretty bad.”

“I know a girl at the music store who does guitar repairs. I’ll get you her info.”

“Really? That would be amazing. Thank you.”

Lucas nodded. “A broken guitar is the worst.”

I paused, about to agree, when I processed what he said. “Wait, do you play?”

“I do.”

“Cool,” I said.

“Really cool,” Isabel said, giving me a big smile.

“I’ll try to get her info for you this week,” Lucas told me. “The store might not be open, with Thanksgiving and everything.”

“That’s fine. After this week will be good.”

“I’ll send you a message if I get it.”

“Like in the sky?” I asked with a laugh.

“No, like a text?” he said, confused.

“It was a joke … airplanes … sales … never mind, yes, a text would be great.” Stop referring to your letters like everyone should understand what you’re talking about, Lily.