Shrinking Violet (14 page)

"How about if I spell words into people's hands to communicate with them? Helen did that," I say.

Kayla rubs her chin. Gavin and I both eye each other.

"Yeah, I read that," she finally speaks. "It's pretty neat. You could spell a few things into my hand when we do our introduction." Kayla quickly jots that down.

I look over at Gavin. His hands are resting on the table. He's wearing a silver thumb ring today. I wish I could trace the lines of his palms.

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When Kayla's finished writing, she hands Gavin a couple of sheets of blue paper. "What's this?" he asks.

"Just info on Stephen King's band, The Rock Bottom Remainders, if you need any inspiration for your song." She pushes the stapler over to him. This girl must max out her mom's credit card at Office Depot.

"Thanks. I've got a couple of their songs. They're not bad."

"How's your song?" I ask.

"Going pretty well. Not ready for the radio yet."

"What do you mean?"

"I heard a new band last night and . . no, it's pretty stupid, forget it . ." He lowers his head and traces the grooves of wood in the table.

"What?" I lightly place my hand on his shoulder. The electric current is back, sending waves through my body. He looks up, and I force myself not to let nerves pull me away from the warmth of his back.

"I heard this cool band, Shrinking Violet, and was thinking how amazing it would be to go from fooling around in your garage to all of a sudden hearing your song on the radio. Big dream, I know," he says.

I want to yell, I chose that song for
you!
I guess that means Jason was right--nobody heard him or me. Phew, I can breathe again.

The phone rings and Kayla runs to answer it. "Is that the kind of stuff you play?" I ask.

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"Yeah, I like to think. Not too realistic, huh?" He looks up at me, and his face is just inches from mine. My nerves are working overdrive. I can hardly stand it. I want to pull him closer and feel his lips against mine. But I remind myself that we are in Kayla's kitchen.

"No, it's great!" I say a little too loud to drown out the thumping of my own heart.

"Thanks. I can't wait to listen to that show tonight, in case they have any other new tunes." I look into Gavin's eyes. They are glowing.

"Which show?" I bite my lip.

"The Love Shack.
The show I mentioned earlier. Jason's been on this week with some chick."

"Chick?" I'm a chick? Chicken? Hot chicken? KFC Girl?

He blushes. "Sorry, that was rude. But she sounds cute. She goes by the name Sweet T

and she has a sexy voice."

"Really?" I say, with a little more raspiness than usual.
Hello, I'm right here next to you.

But of course I can't say what I'm really thinking.

Wait, does that mean he likes her more than me? Is it possible to be jealous of yourself?

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159

Mom calls from the hairdresser and asks me to pop the chicken in the oven for dinner.

And no, she didn't make it. She bought it at Stella's Marketplace, famous for their gourmet food. She's busy getting highlights at the salon, but says she'll be home soon. I fix a garden salad and baked potatoes, too. Tonight is my first night off in a couple of weeks, and I'm spending it with Mom and Rob. I hope that's not a recipe for disaster.

I'm sprawled on the couch, flipping through channels, when Rob gets home. He heads straight for the fridge to grab a beer.

"Mind if I join you?" He slides into his La-Z-Boy and kicks off his boots.

It's your house, dude.
"No."

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He stretches his legs out. "Man, I'm starved."

"Dinner's ready. Just waiting for Mom." I catch a glimpse of PJ Squid, shirtless on MTV, lounging in a beach chair. It's a promo for his upcoming album,
Calamari.
Mmm, would I love a bite of him.

"Thanks. Played a round of golf today with a couple of guys from the bank, worked up my appetite."

Slightly more exciting than my day of sleeping until noon, obsessing over whether Gavin likes me, and cramming for my physics and sociology exams.

I hear the front door unlock and Mom's bracelets jangling. She's also gabbing on the phone. She never makes a quiet entrance. "What do you think?" Mom stands in front of the TV, still on her cell. Her two hundred dollar highlights could not be achieved naturally by even the best sunbather.

Be smart, Rob. If you say the right thing, we can eat quicker.

"Beautiful," he says, then gets up and cups his hands around Mom's face. "Makes you look ten years younger."

"Oh, you're so sweet." Mom nuzzles his nose and quickly says good-bye to the person on the other line.

"Looks good." I walk past them to the kitchen. The highlights do make her seem younger, but her ego doesn't need any more inflating, so I keep it at that.

Dinner consists of dishes being passed back and forth and Mom and Rob playing footsie under the table. I might not have known if she didn't accidentally attack my foot first. It's

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times like this that I could really use a brother or sister. Dog. Anything.

But it's still much better than the old days when Mom and I used to eat alone or when she'd bring home one of her dates. I'd never know if I was going to be the center of criticism or a stand-in for a potted plant. Keeping my mouth shut seemed like the safest bet. Plus, I didn't see why I should bother getting to know her dates if they just came in and out of a revolving door. I was really surprised and skeptical that only three weeks after meeting Rob, she dumped all her other suitors. I guess he knows how to keep her happy. He deserves a gold medal for that.

Rob cracks open another beer. "Tere, the show sounded good last night."

I nearly choke on a piece of chicken and wash it down with some water. "Really?"

"Yeah, the building's still in one piece." He laughs.

Mom glares at me like that was not a joke. I laugh, too, just to show her.

Rob puts down his beer. "But seriously, as you know, we're trying to bring up our Arbitron ratings and it looks like you and Jason taking over
The Love Shack
could help do the trick. Garrison was only filling in anyway, so for now I want Jason to stay put. He brings a fresh sound to the station, and you guys make a good team."

My lips are stretched so wide, I'm afraid they might snap like frayed rubber bands. A small "thanks" escapes from them.

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"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Mom fishes a piece of ice from her glass and slips it into her mouth.

I drop my knife and fork onto my plate and push it away from me. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I know how you are, and this is not fun and games. Being on the radio is serious business." She crunches hard on the ice.

"You think I don't know that? I love music."

"I understand that. But let's face it, you're not the most social person in the world, and to be on-air, you have to be friendly."

I try to smile, but I feel like it looks more like I'm sucking on an orange. "Give me a chance. Mother." I jump up from my seat.

Rob puts his hand on the small of Mom's back. "Delilah, it's true. Tere knows her stuff."

Mom strokes his face. "Okay, baby. I just don't want her to ruin anything for you."

"Too late," I growl. "You've already done that for me."

"What did you say?" Mom breaks away from Rob.

"You heard me." I enunciate each word like I'm giving the opening speech at a hard-of-hearing convention.

"After all I've done for you?" Mom says.

"Like what?"

"You're such an ungrateful bitch!" Mom fumes. "Now, Delilah." Rob pulls her out of her chair and onto his lap.

Mom lowers her head. "I'm trying my best." Right, by calling me a bitch.

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Rob turns to me and says, "It'll be okay." Then he pulls Mom's face up to his and gives her a kiss.

How does he know? He hasn't lived with her for eighteen years!

I've had enough. She can't stand the attention on someone else for a second. I run up to my room and no one stops me.

I try to think of all the positive things that have happened to me since I started doing the show. With Jason at the lead and with my music knowledge, we have it going on.

And I still can't believe Gavin actually said Sweet T was sexy. So what if he was only referring to my voice and didn't know it was actually me?

I speed-dial Audrey's number and don't even wait for her to speak before I rant about Mom, the Princess.

Finally, Audrey says, "Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you talk for so long. That was two and a half minutes." Her second favorite show,
Love Knots,
blares in the background.

"You were timing me?"

"No, you called during a commercial break. You should get pissed more often."

"Is that supposed to cheer me up?" I toss my teddy bear, DJ, against the wall and watch him fall facedown.

"No, no," Audrey backpedals, "that was totally bitchy of the Princess. But it sounds like Rob's got your back, so don't worry."

"Yeah, I guess. Plus, Gavin likes the show. A lot."

"You told him?" She turns down the volume on the tube.

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"No, of course not. But we talked about the show, and he digs Sweet T."

"Ohmigod, Tere. You're a mess. You should sign up for
Love Knots."

"Thanks." I pick my bear up and loosen the plaid tie around his neck. Then I prop him up next to me. "I'll tell Gavin someday."

"Wouldn't it be cool if you told him on live TV?"

"No." I hang up.

After I'm off the phone, I download all the Shrinking Violet songs I can find and pump up the volume on my iPod. I'm moving like crazy around the room and don't give a damn. This is mine and Gavin's band, even if he doesn't know it. It's like we have a special bond, but the only thing is, I can't tell him or my cover will be blown. Then
The
Love Shack
won't seem so special to him anymore. I burn a copy of the songs for him and shove the CD into my backpack. Mom can't stop me now.

***

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On Monday after school we meet at Kayla's again to work on the project. This girl is a slave driver. She'll definitely end up CEO of some major company. Either that or have a mental breakdown and devote her life to watching game shows.

Kayla hands out more sheets of paper. She has printed out a script for everyone. Of course the presentation begins and ends with her, which is fine with me.

I start out by spelling "water" into Judy Blume's hand at the table, and she pours me a glass. After telling us a short gory tale, Stephen King whips out his guitar. While he's playing, Judy roller-skates around. Then I do my mime act. In the end, we have our own vaudeville show. I have a few speaking lines, but otherwise 166

Kayla does the majority of the talking. I'm not too comfortable with having to speak, but I keep my mouth shut about it. I don't want Kayla to come up with any more
brilliant
ideas, like having me stuff my mouth with cotton balls.

Our presentation clocks in at thirteen minutes. Perfect, because Ms. Peters said it had to be twelve to fifteen minutes. Kayla says if we run short, she'll just do some skating tricks.

Geez, can't wait.

After we do one run-through, Kayla declares it munchie time and heads to the fridge to put the finishing touch on her snack trays. I watch as Gavin swirls his thumb ring round and round. Eventually he catches me and slides the ring over. "Try it on."

The silver is warm from his touch. I pray it's too big. I've always wanted dainty hands like Audrey or Mom, but my fingers look more like hot dogs. I slip the ring onto my thumb.

It fits. Perfectly. I want to keep it on, if only for a minute. So I have to think of something to say. Anything.

"Are you going to the prom?" I look away from his face. I immediately regret the question. I already know the answer. But, still, I was hoping he had changed his mind.

Hoping that he'd want to go with me.

"No, I'm going to see Speed Bump play on the Beach."

"Oh, that's right." I pick up the pastel pink paper and pretend to be enthralled with the script.

"Yeah, I didn't even realize it was the same night. My brother's coming back from Florida State that weekend. He surprised me with the tickets, so I figured, why not?"

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Why not? I could list a thousand reasons, with prom being number one. I kick my sneaker against the coffee-table leg. "Sure." I hand him the ring back.

"I heard they play until the club kicks them out."

I heard people dance at the prom until their feet are throbbing and their lips are sore from kissing all night. Does he even wonder if I'm going? I never even considered attending prom before I met him. I had already crossed it off my list a long time ago.

I can think of nothing to say except,
Change your mind, take me to prom.
So instead, I stare at Gavin's thumb. He does, too.

I wish Sweet T were here. She would ask him to the prom, and the sad thing is, he'd probably say yes. I try to find the words to plead with him to change his mind, but my lips tremble, and I'm afraid if I open up, all that will come out is a puddle of drool.

He slides slightly closer to me, and his thigh grazes mine. There's something about Gavin that puts me at ease. I feel like we've known each other a lot longer than a couple of months.

"Okay," Kayla butts into our silence. "We have cheddar and American cheese, Ritz crackers and Wheat Thins. Miniquiches and my specialty, glazed almond tarts." She sets the tray down in front of us,