Page 29 of Assistant to the Assassin

“She’s not afraid of all the attention! She’s not afraid of running wild! How come she’s so afraid of falling in loooooooove?”

I continue to shout the lyrics to my heart’s content as I read Vampire Harry sucking the blood of YN, and I am so engrossed in the fun that I don’t notice Henry standing in the doorway until the song ends.

“You’re so loud I could hear you through concrete,” he grumbles, leaning his shoulder against the frame.

I shrug, not embarrassed in the slightest. “It’s One Direction.”

“That boy band from the UK? Is that who was all over your apartment bedroom walls?” He asks this as if he doesn’t know. He literally got me 1D décor.

I roll my eyes, indignant to this overgeneralization. “There was also Justin Bieber, the Jonas Brothers, and an Avril Lavigne poster.”

He shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement makes me notice his wardrobe: black sweatpants and a Navy SEALs shirt. “Isn’t that music for kids?”

I slap a hand to my chest, truly offended. “They are not kid bands! I’ll have you know, all of these singers manage to convey complex emotions like love, heartbreak, grief, and hope in a way that is both moving and fun.”

He looks like he’s trying hard not to smile. “I never knew you felt so strongly about this,” he sarcastically remarks.

“I knew you’d be a dick and make fun of me,” I respond, burrowing under the blanket I have wrapped around my body.

After a short sigh, he glances at my laptop. “Do you have a favorite?”

“One Direction, easily.”

“Why?”

Why indeed? “Because they all originally were solo artists, but through the magic of reality TV, they were brought together and created dozens of beautiful songs. They became brothers by chance. I lost my parents, I wasn’t really close with my grandparents, and school was always a nightmare for me…Music was my escape from all of that. I guess the idea of a family you choose was intriguing to fourteen-year-old me.”

I can see the understanding in H’s eyes, and all humor vanishes. “Do you have a favorite song of theirs?”

I nod, clicking to their album Made in the A.M., pressing play on “Olivia.” H sits down on the end of my bed and listens to the song along with me, his expression its usual stone-cold mask.

About midway, he grunts.

“It’s good,” he admits begrudgingly.

I give a little victorious cheer inside my head. “I agree…Do you have a favorite band or singer?”

He shakes his head. “I haven’t really listened to music outside of the radio for a long time.”

“What about before your mom—when you were a kid. What did you listen to?”

He thinks on it for a moment, then he answers, “My mother loved old Hollywood movies because of its music and dancing. She and I would listen to the soundtracks to those movies all the time.”

“What movies?”

“Dozens, but Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Funny Face were probably her favorites.”

I smile at that. “She like Audrey Hepburn?”

“Loved her. Her name was Audrey, and despite what anyone said to the contrary, she claimed she was named after Audrey Hepburn.”

I think this is the most he’s ever told me about his mom. I didn’t even know her name. “Did you like those movies?”

“I liked them because she liked them.” His eyes glaze over as he falls back in time through his memories. “To me they were kind of boring, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s was really racist. But Mom loved Audrey Hepburn, so we watched them together. She would actually fast-forward through any part of the movie that didn’t have her in it for many years. I didn’t watch those movies all the way through until I was probably eight. And during any song, she would force me to dance with her in our living room. She let me stand on her feet until I got too heavy.”

The image of a smaller, innocent version of Henry dancing to musicals with his mom makes my eyes burn. “Did she have a favorite song to dance to?”

He nods. “‘On How To Be Lovely’ from Funny Face. She learned the choreography and would perform the scene seamlessly every time.”

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