Part 11 (2/2)

”I don't like surprises.”

”You're missing out. Surprises are what make life interesting.”

”Isn't that supposed to be a Chinese curse, that you live in interesting times?”

”I'd take interesting over dull any day.”

”So are you going to tell me what you've got planned?”

”Nope. Either you come or you don't. Your choice.”

I bustled around emptying the trash cans as if I were too busy to even consider his plan. Without even glancing over at him, I knew he would be smiling. Smirking, most likely. He was a big smirker. Sneaking off campus was a bad idea. I might have been able to convince Winston once that I was an emotional wreck, but if I got caught again, he wouldn't go so easy on me.

I sprayed the windows with Windex, perhaps a bit less than I might have used in the past, now that I knew there was a cleaning supply n.a.z.i keeping track. I wiped the gla.s.s, watching groups of students walking across the quad. I spotted Tristan walking with Kelsie. I raised my arm to wave and catch their attention. Kelsie jabbed Tristan and he pushed her back, and she fell onto her b.u.t.t on the ice. She threw her head back, and I could see she was laughing. Tristan tried to pull her up, but she used her weight to cause him to fall into the s...o...b..nk. I stood frozen, watching them. Tristan got up and tried again to help Kelsie. They were both laughing now. He finally settled for picking Kelsie up like a bag of laundry and throwing her over his shoulder to carry her off. I stepped back slightly so that if they looked at the window they wouldn't see me.

Drew was standing right behind me. He looked past me out the window. ”That's Tristan, isn't it?”

I nodded, watching as he and Kelsie headed back toward the dorms.

”Who's with him?” Drew asked.

”Her name's Kelsie. She's my best friend.” I pinned Drew in place with my expression, stopping him before he could say anything. ”The two of them are friends too. They're always joking around like that. Tristan says Kelsie's the annoying younger sister that he never wanted.”

”Fair enough.” Drew turned away to go back to the mopping.

I kept an eye out the window, waiting to see if I would spot them again. ”I'll go with you after work,” I said suddenly. ”I feel like a surprise.”

24.

I swallowed hard to keep myself from throwing up. I knew I didn't like surprises. I had a.s.sumed Drew would have planned some sort of physical activity. Something that he thought would scare me. Bungee jumping off a bridge, ski jumping, or walking over hot coals. Now I realized there was something worse than putting myself in a life-and-death situation. swallowed hard to keep myself from throwing up. I knew I didn't like surprises. I had a.s.sumed Drew would have planned some sort of physical activity. Something that he thought would scare me. Bungee jumping off a bridge, ski jumping, or walking over hot coals. Now I realized there was something worse than putting myself in a life-and-death situation.

Karaoke.

A woman on the stage was singing some Top 40 song. The sound coming out of her was what I imagined would come out of livestock if you hooked them up to a car battery. More people would have been laughing at her, except she was doing this b.u.mp and grind number that was too hard-core for most p.o.r.n movies, so the men in the audience were distracted. The bar wasn't like anyplace I'd been before. I'd been to a few of the nightclubs in LA with Tristan, but they were all red-rope affairs where you didn't get into the building if you weren't already on the A-list. This place looked to be a bit less discriminating. There were a few people in the back of the room that I suspected didn't even have a pulse. They appeared to be pa.s.sed out in their beers. While the clubs I'd been to spent millions on decor and imported gla.s.s and marble from Europe, this place had a decor that seemed to be themed around plug-in beer signs.

I s.h.i.+fted in the seat. My gla.s.s of Diet c.o.ke was making a puddle of condensation on the table in front of me. Drew jammed another nacho into his mouth. He'd ordered them with triple jalapeno peppers. It was a wonder his mouth didn't start shooting flames. He pushed the laminated pages back over to me.

”You still haven't picked a song,” he said with salsa in his teeth.

”I'm not sure there's anything I like.” I held the song list between two fingers. There was something sticky on the pages. I had no desire to even think what it might be.

”There's over two hundred songs on there. You can't find anything? I'm all for being discriminating, but at some point it becomes picky.”

”I'm not sure I should be singing at all. My throat's been a bit sore. I might be coming down with something.” I held my hand to my throat and tried to look wan.

Drew laughed. ”Do not go into a life of crime. You suck at lying. You're not sick, and your throat is fine. Either you pick a song or I pick a song for you. If you want to pick a duet, I'll do it with you if you're too nervous to be up there by yourself. Or I could pick something super-embarra.s.sing and sing it to you.”

I slouched down in my seat, pouting. I pulled the list over and began looking through it again. Most of the duets were love songs. No way was I going to stand up in that bar and sing ”Endless Love” with Drew.

”I don't see why I have to do a song at all. Why can't we just watch other people sing? That's fun.” I gestured to the group of guys who had taken the stage and were belting out ”You Shook Me All Night Long” by AC/DC. One guy was attempting to use his leg as a guitar. He fell over a stool, but popped right back up.

”Don't you want to be a part of things?” Drew's hand tapped the table to the beat of the music.

”Not if being a part of things means humiliating myself.”

”There are two kinds of people in this world. People who are a part of what happens and people who sit back and watch other people make it happen. Life isn't supposed to be a spectator sport. It's supposed to be messy.” Drew took my hand and leaned closer. His hands were rough with calluses. ”Tell me the truth. When you were a kid, did you always color inside the lines?”

I went to pull my hand away, but he held it tighter. His hands were warm. I looked around to see if anyone noticed us touching. With my luck there would be some magazine reporter in the bar who would take a picture. ”Coloring in the lines is the whole point. That's why they have lines,” I said.

”That's where you're wrong. The lines are there just to hold you in. Like a prison. Think what you might have created if there hadn't been any lines. To quote my friend Th.o.r.eau: 'I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, . . . to put to rout all that was not life . . . and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.' Now, there was a guy who didn't color in the lines.” Drew raised his gla.s.s to the ceiling as if to salute Th.o.r.eau, dropping my hand. He was able to quote poets. There was no end of random information he knew.

”I'm not sure we should be taking life advice from him. Th.o.r.eau lived in the woods, like some kind of crazy hermit,” I said.

”Call him crazy if you want, but the guy is immortal because of what he did. He took risks. Did you know he was part of the Underground Railroad that helped sneak slaves north toward freedom? This was a guy who marched to the beat of his own drum. How many line followers are immortal?”

”How many people who don't stay in the lines cross into oncoming traffic and end up getting hit by a car?” I countered. This was something I knew from personal experience.

Drew rolled his eyes. ”Singing in public isn't going to kill you. It won't even maim you. The only thing that's going to get bruised is your ego.” Drew pulled the song list back over to his side of the table. He used the pencil on the table to scribble a song number on a sheet of paper. He pulled me up from my chair. ”There you go. Now it's done. Come on. We're up.”

”Wait, what song did you pick?”

”It's a surprise. I know how you love surprises.” Drew winked. He pulled me by the arm toward the stage, handing our slip of paper over to the DJ running the music.

”What if I don't know the words?” I dragged my feet, trying to slow our process.

”That's why they have them on the TV.” Drew motioned to the small screen to the side of the stage. ”You haven't been going to that fancy school for this long without learning to read. All you have to do is follow along. Now, once we get going, I expect you to belt it out.”

The DJ called our names, and Drew jumped up onto the stage as if he couldn't wait. He handed me a microphone and took one for himself. A few people in the crowd hooted while we waited to start. I prayed that there would be some kind of natural disaster. A small earthquake would work, anything that would stop what was about to happen. All I needed was for the ground to split open and swallow me alive. It would also work if Drew were swallowed alive. Either option was fine with me.

The music started. Drew had picked ”What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong. I'd heard the song before, but I had to follow the lyrics on the TV to sing along. At least it wasn't as bad as some things he could have chosen. Looking out at the audience made me feel like I was going to pa.s.s out, so I focused on a flas.h.i.+ng Budweiser sign at the back of the room. Drew stood next to me, throwing his arm around me so that we could sway in tandem back and forth for the final verse. Drew motioned to the crowd, and they yelled along with us, ”I think to myself, what a wonderful world!”

Everyone cheered for us when we were done. Drew held my hand, and we bowed to the audience. Drew waved to the people in the back. I was starting to think I was going to have to drag him off the stage. I found myself smiling and taking a few extra bows while pulling him toward the stairs.

When we sat back down, some people a few tables over bought us a round of c.o.kes. Drew leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the chair next to me.

”Admit it. You had fun.” He shook his finger at me.

”It wasn't as bad as I thought it might be.”

”Not bad?” Drew waved off my comments. ”Coming from you that's practically a giddy endors.e.m.e.nt.”

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