Page 190 of Something Rad
Could she really be done?
Because I’m sure as hell not.
I need to do something. I need to show her I’m serious about this. Serious abouther. I just need to get her attention long enough that she’ll let me speak. If I can do anything, I can talk. I just need her to let me talk.
But how?
I let my head fall back against the headrest of my seat as I stick my arm out the car window, flicking off the ash at the end of my cigarette. I let my eyes fall shut, blowing out a deep breath as I wrack my brain for something–anythingthat might work. The car becomes quiet as I zone out against the seat, only the steady ambience of the radio playing filling the space.
And then I hear it.
“Storms are brewing in your eyes.”
My eyes snap open.
“Sara, Sara…”
I sit up, turning the Starship song I’ve heard a million times up to full blast.
“No time is a good time for goodbyes.”
My mouth falls open as I stare at the radio as if it’s about to grow a face and speak to me.
Saraby Starship.
How in the hell had I never thought of it before? Never put two and two together?
I spin around, feeling around the floor of my back seat until my hand touches the handle of my briefcase. I pull it up and onto my lap, quickly opening it and running my fingers over the organized cassette tapes until I find the one I’m looking for. When I land on it, my fist pumps in celebration. I slide the cassette out of its spot in the case, flipping it back and forth between my fingers as I examine it.
Starship’sKnee Deep in the Hoopla.
“That’s it,” I mutter to myself. “That has to be it.”
I shut off the car, stepping out and dropping my cigarette onto the asphalt, crushing it beneath my Converse All-Star.
I check my watch, seeing that second period is just about over. “T-minus an hour to showtime, Summers.”
* * *
I tap my foot as I wait, listening to the song for the third time in a row. Just when I start to get antsy, Lisa McDaniel reappears from the door to the cheer locker room. I slide my headphones off my head, holding out my hands as a question to her. She gives me an apologetic look as she steps out of the door, which nearly makes me curse under my breath, but then I relax when she fully steps out and I see her carrying the boombox in her right hand.
“Sorry,” Lisa says as she approaches me, “I ran into Coach McKinley. I had to come up with an excuse for why I was stealing the boombox. I told her some of the girls wanted to practice our new routine over lunch. I’m not quite sure she bought it, but she didn’t stop me.” She holds the boombox out to me. “Please just return it in one piece.”
“I’ll try my best,” I assure her, grabbing the handle. “Thanks, Lisa.”
I start to turn away but feel resistance and realize Lisa still has a hand on the boombox handle as well. “Also,” she murmurs, if we could just…notmention to Denise that I helped you with this…”
“She certainly won’t hear it from me,” I say.
“Thanks, Robbie,” she smiles. “I’m rooting for you.”
I give her a tight smile and a nod before turning away, speed-walking down the hall.
And then, when I turn the corner…
Speak of the devil.
My feet skid to a stop as I come face to face with Denise.
