Page 15 of False Start

“What’d he say? I don’t think I heard him right.” She tilted her head toward the DJ. “That didn’t sound like Arch Cassen.”

Ignoring her, I pulled out my phone, looked up the band’s Wikipedia page. Sure enough, Gideon Piper was listed as the original band drummer. My stomach churned.

“You were right,” I groaned.

“Wow, the acoustics in this place really are terrible. I couldn’t hear that either. Could you say it again? A little louder for the rest of the team to hear why we didn’t get the bonus question.”

Gavin sank further down the table. Derek looked like he wanted to throttle his best friend, but I couldn’t help but find a little humor in the situation. Sure, she was annoying, but in this case, also right.

“Hey, team,” I shouted, catching the attention of all the surrounding tables. “I was wrong. Kit was right. She knows more about Monkey Station than me.”

She closed her eyes and rocked in her seat with a pleased smile. “God, you love to hear it.”

“Don’t get used to it. I’m going to decimate you if they ask about any other obscure late 2000s punk one-hit wonders.”

“I think that was your one shot, and you blew it. The rest of the questions are going to be about Beatles albums and boy bands.”

Sure enough, neither of us could answer a single other question the entire night. After we soundly lost, I returned to the bar to flirt with the girl from earlier. Derek stopped by on his way out for the evening to say goodnight with Kit in tow.

She lingered, pursing her lips as she studied me. Her narrowed eyes roved up and down my body before she gave me a brief nod. “Night, Texas.”

“Night, Kitten.”

SIX

KIT

Sleep tugged at my eyes,and I shook my shoulders, scooping up the textbook in front of me as I stood to pace the room. A couple more minutes, maybe an hour, and then, bed.

“Coffee?” Derek poked his head into my room, startling me. “Tea? A break?”

I glanced at the clock. Nearly ten, which meant, if I finished this chapter, I’d have six hours of sleep before work in the morning. “I don’t have time.”

“Ten minutes. Just to clear your mind.” His voice was low and pleading.

Had I been this annoying when he was in school? Ripping him away from his books every night? Probably.

The coagulation pathway swirled on the page, a neatly drawn flow diagram turning to mush somewhere between the textbook and my brain. I shut the book. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

Derek led the way into the kitchen, filling a pale blue kettle with water and setting it on the stove.

I rifled through the cabinet, pulling out the mugs we’d made at a weekend pottery class. Despite an enthusiastic teacher and plenty of time, neither of us fully grasped working on the wheel,and we ended the weekend with mismatched coffee mugs as a reminder of our trip.

Derek’s looked like a saggy vase, while mine bulged at the bottom. The final product reminded me of a stomach, and I’d decorated it with a pair of eyes and a frown. I set a tea bag in each mug.

“What’s the countdown?” Derek asked, pouring the boiling water into our mugs.

“Two weeks until the rally. Graduation a week after that and then the certification test right after that.”

“Please tell me you’re not taking your notes on the rally?” Derek asked, scooping his cup up by the exaggeratedly huge handle before sitting at our checkerboard red diner booth, a castoff from a breakfast dive down the block that had since been converted into a farm-to-table gastropub.

“Maybe…” I winced, sliding in across from him. “Sorry, but I didn’t plan this well at all.”

I didn’t really have a choice. I couldn’t take the credentialing board test until after graduation, and I’d signed up for the rally on a whim.

Derek rolled his eyes, an easy smile spreading across his face. “It’s fine. Bring your notecards, but don’t waste the entire rally with your head in a book. You should enjoy the road trip.”

My throat clenched, tears rising unexpectedly. I rubbed my neck, easing the tension. “Fine. I will. I’ll try, anyway.”

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