Page 29 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

“We did.” She slaps my palm, and like they have a mind of their own, my fingers go rogue and weave between hers. Her face flushes and I quickly pull my hand back.

She clears her throat. “So do you... come to The Mode a lot?”

Because oh yeah, this holiday magic thing is just a joke. Our joke!! But now I actually have to do some explaining.

“No, uh, well... you know Ryan Love and the Valentines?” Delilah nods. “Leela—who’s in my D&D group. She’s dating Ryan, so I came to, like, support.”Which I’ve never had an interest in doing before you,I conveniently leave out.

“Ryan is so badass,” she says. And even though what she’s saying is objectively a compliment, there’s a shift in Delilah. Her face, that was finally starting to open up, shutters.

“Youare so badass,” I say, wanting to fix whatever just happened. “That show—shit! That was so dope. You’ve gotten even better since the last time—”

“I don’t write the lyrics,” she spits out, cutting me off. Her eyes go wide, like those words popped out all on their own. “They’re Charlie’s words... I just sing them.”

“Uh... okay,” I say. And I can tell by her serious face that this is supposed to be a big admission. But, honestly, the lyrics are probably my least favorite part (well, after how close she gets to that guitarist guy when they’re sharing a mic). They don’t really make sense to me and I was worried I was missing something that might be really important to Delilah. So really, this is a relief.

“I think I told you that first night, I started doing this as just a favor to my friends.” She pauses and bites her bottom lip. “But I’m not a musician. I don’t write the music or anything. I just sing what they tell me to sing. So it’s not really... I don’t know—a big deal what I’m doing.”

“No, uh-uh, you need to walk that back,” I say. Her eyebrows push together in confusion, and for real, I’m kinda confused too. Because these words are coming out of my mouth before I havea chance to overanalyze them and I’m surely headed for disaster. But they keep coming! “You shouldn’t downplay what you do just because you’re not writing it. You are a musician; your voice is your instrument. And some people—shit!Mostpeople couldn’t get on that stage at all, let alone sing like that. You want to hearmesing? I could clear out this room in literal seconds!”

She bites her lip some more. And I have no idea what that means, so I keep going—either endearing myself to her some more or totally blowing up any chance that’s left. There’s no in between. “So we’ve established that you’re already a badass musician because you’re out there putting on a dope show, with the voice of an angel.” She rolls her eyes, but, like, in a good way. “And if you wanted to learn how to write lyrics or, uh, play guitar, you could do that too. I mean, I don’t know you like that yet, I know, but still... I think you could. Not because youneedto for some cred or whatever, but for you.”

Delilah nods, her face still hard to read. It’s almost like all her feelings are flying through, fighting to take up space. “Maybe.”

“Do you want to? Write your own music, I mean?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t even know where to start.” She waves her hand like she’s shooing a fly.

“Hmm. I don’t know. I mean, it’s not really my lane, obviously. But when I’m stressing about a campaign and don’t know what should happen next, I like to watch other DMs on YouTube or listen to their podcasts.” It still feels bizarre to talk so openly about D&D with someone other than my friends and not have someone make a stank face or laugh, especially after what happened at schooltoday. But I like it. “So... okay, who are your favorite musicians? Maybe you could find some videos of them talking about their craft. Or, like, study their lyrics.”

Her cheeks go pink, and it’s the cutest thing.

“Uh-oh!” I laugh. “I hit something here. What music do you listen to?”

She tugs her hat down over her eyes, and, okay,that’sthe cutest thing.

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why not?” I point to the door to the main room, where the sounds of the next band are starting to float from. “It’s this kind of music, right?”

“No.” She bites her lip again, seems to be considering what to say. “Don’t get me wrong. I like this music. I’m starting to like it and appreciate it a lot more. But what I listen to on my own... it’s not cool like that. I couldneverplay that kind of music here.”

Her eyes go all big and Bambi as she shakes her head. And I get the vibe thatheredoesn’t just mean here at The Mode.Heremeans in front of her punk rock, stubble-having guy friends—or likeat all.

It sorta feels like she’s giving me a gift, admitting even this to me. And damn, that hypes me up, pumps my body full of adrenaline and my brain full of hope. I want to be the guy who she thinks she’s giving it to.

“You know, I was just thinking about this because this asshole at school was hassling me today. Me and Yobani—that’s my friend—we were looking at this new D&D sourcebook, and dudecomes up and starts talking some mess about how I’m a nerd, how I’m not really Black because of what I like. And like... I just told him to fuck off. Why am I going to waste my time caring about what some dick like that thinks?” I shrug, like all this is nothing. Just another day in the life of New Reggie. “Who cares if it’s cool? Who gets to determine what music is cool anyway? You gotta like what you like and live authentically.”

I know I’m fronting. Or I guess, more accurately... straight-up lying. But her face that was so difficult to read before is clear now. She’s practically telegraphing heart-eyes my way, and I swear she’s leaning in closer.

She likes me. I can feel it.

And maybe this persona doesn’t work in the rest of my life, but it works with Delilah. She likesthis guy, so I’m gonna keep on being this guy with her. I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep her.

Delilah

I like Reggie. I don’t mean...likelike him. Though it may be that, too.

I guess I should say that I want to be like him. I want to be around him—just in case some of his confidence, hisI am who I amattitude might rub off on me.

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