Page 8 of Spark

Ruby: Happy 28th birthday, my darling! Titus and I are in the hotel bar downstairs, enjoying cocktails, so if you see this, come and let Mr. Rivers buy you something ridiculously expensive to celebrate the glorious day of your birth!

I chuckle to myself. Whenever we’re on tour, our label, River Records, founded by Reed Rivers, picks up the tab for our band’s food and drinks, no matter the cost. So, of course, we all exploit that policy to the hilt.

Me: Hey, cutie. I’ll be right down.

Ruby: WAHOO!

I throw my journal onto the bed and start throwing on clothes. Truth be told, if Ruby’s boyfriend, Cooper, were still tagging along with her on the tour like he’s been doing for the past two months, I’d probably pretend not to have seen her text till morning. I used to like Cooper a lot, before he started dating Ruby about three months ago. But watching him . . .

I pause what I’m doing, slammed with an idea for some lyrics.

My heart crashing, I grab my journal and pen off the bed, sit on the edge of the mattress, find the spot where I left off a moment ago, and begin furiously scribbling my thoughts down, as fast as my hand can write them. For the next severalminutes, the words barrel out of me, like I’m in a trance. Like it’s not me writing them at all. Like I’m simply channeling them from someone or somewhere else.

Finally, the words stop flowing. The inspiration has passed.

I glance down at the journal and discover my rushed, chaotic, urgent handwriting is coveringtwofull pages—both the left and right sides of the opened book. Not only that, I’ve written an entire song, which never happens to me. Verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus. What the fuck? I’ve heard Savage and Ruby talk about lyrics coming to them in a trance like that, but it’s never happened to me. I can’t wait to tell them about this!

Feeling giddy, I read my words back . . . and quickly realize, no, I can’t tell Savage or Ruby or anyone else about this. Ever. Or they’ll think this flush of words is about Ruby—and that it reflects my actual, current thoughts and feelings about her.

I mean, sure, there are some seeds of truth here, probably. Some long-buried ones. But I’ve mixed them with fantasy. What ifs. And I can’t afford for anyone, least of all her, to read this and think it’s some kind of naked confessional.

Maybe I should rip the pages out and destroy them. Just in case. But then again, I’m awfully proud of this. I’ve never written this long a song or lyrics in my life.

No, it’s too risky. I should definitely destroy it.

It occurs to me the piece deserves to have a title, even if it’s ultimately going into the trashcan. So, I quickly scribble the first word that pops into my head—“Spark”—at the top of the left page.

Ping.

I look at my phone. Another text from Ruby.

Ruby: I’m waiiiiiiiiiiting, my darling! Titus is cranky and wants to go to bed. Are you coming, Birthday Boy? Don’t make me drink alone!

Me: Coming now, cutie!

Hot damn. I never get Ruby all to myself these days. But with Cooper finally gone and Titus wanting to go to bed, it sounds like I’ll have my cute little bestie all to myself down there. Excited, I leap up, finish getting dressed, grab my White Sox hoodie and my keycard, and barrel out the door with an extra skip in my step.

3

KENDRICK

Ipeck Ruby’s cheek in greeting, as always, and slide onto the vacant stool next to her.

“Hey, bestie,” she says. “Happy birthday. Twenty-eight is a biggie.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is to me.”

Like me, Ruby looks like she rolled out of bed to come down here. She’s dressed in soft, comfy clothes—sweats and an oversized sweater that hides her rocking little body and the Greek mythology–inspired tattoo on her shoulder.

I look around. “Did Titus already go upstairs?”

Ruby nods. Her long, pink hair is tied into two messy space buns. “The second he found out you were coming down here, and I wouldn’t be alone in a bar in New York City—gasp!—he went back upstairs.”

“I’m insulted he didn’t stick around long enough to wish me happy birthday, at least.”

“I’m pretty sure he got a text from Stephanie. He loves you, babe. But he loves FaceTime sex with Stephanie more.”

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