Page 16 of One More Time
‘You know it,’ Lucy replied.
Kim sauntered away, while Lucy followed the crackling sounds of an overtaxed subwoofer to a small nook off the living room. There she found a haphazard collection of CDs and a newish stereo with a tangle of speaker wires erupting from the back like a limp ponytail.
She flipped through the CD selection with dismay.
‘Anything good?’ said a deep voice behind her.
‘I hate to admit it,’ Lucy replied, ‘but whoever picked these two songs did us all a favor.’
Lucy turned, ready to add something about her concern for the cultural fate of her generation, but the words got caught in her throat.
It was Nicky Broome.
Gorgeous, amazing, singular Nicky Broome.
They had technically known each other for six years, since he’d materialized from who knew where – probably the ancient spawning ground of unfairly beautiful boys – and joined sixth grade. They’d had classes together once or twice. She’d seen him in the halls. He was the sole occupant of a small but exclusive corner of her brain right between John Hughes plot devices and all her hopes and dreams.
In Lucy’s hormone-addled imagination, Nicky Broome was theWeird Sciencelovechild of Brad Pitt, Jake Ryan, and the sexy guy who worked at the Sam Goody in the mall on Fridays. To be fair, this was probably true for most of the girls in their high school. Actually, it was probably true ofeveryonein their high school.
Nicky Broome could charm anyone. Students, teachers, that weird guy who cleaned the floors in the gym. He had confidence and attitude. He also had a smile that was ever-present, completely sexy, and utterly irreverent.
Nicky Broome did things people talked about. He wore a Clash T-shirt to graduation. He hopped up on stage during Junior prom and played a couple of songs with the band. He drove a beat-up old Jeep that was impossibly cool. Most of the time it had no doors and it always had the keys dangling from the mirror – and no one ever stole it from the student parking lot. Not once. Nicky Broome was a goddamn high school legend and the ink on his diploma wasn’t even dry.
As Nicky stepped forward into the little nook, he tucked his long glossy, sun-kissed brown hair behind his right ear.
‘Hey,’ he said, not really looking at her.
‘Hey,’ she answered back.
It was the first time they’d ever spoken other than the rare ‘did we have homework?’ or ‘can I bum a pencil?’ because only two teenagers could see each other three thousand times a day for years and never actually have a conversation.
Nicky Broome was taller than Lucy; her head reachedonly about as high as those shoulders of his that she wanted to climb. He smelled like clean ocean, peppermint, cigarette smoke, and some dark, mysterioussomethingthat was either an off-brand deodorant or pure, unfiltered hot guy pheromones. Combined, they made one word throb in Lucy’s brain:tasty.
As they each set about digging through the piles of CDs, the soft hem of Nicky’s Beastie Boys tee brushed against Lucy’s hand. She felt it like an earthquake. It made her list in his direction and question the stability of the ground beneath her feet.
Lucy willed herself to breathe. And not sweat. And calm her thudding heartbeat, which she was sure the whole house could hear over Snoop Dogg.
‘Wow,’ Nicky said, holding up an Ace of Base CD for Lucy to examine.
‘Yes,’ Lucy replied, coming back to her senses. ‘And then there’s this,’ she said, holding up an Enigma album.
‘I’m getting a European theme,’ Nicky said with a smile, holding up a cardboard-wrapped Culture Beat single.
‘You might be right, because what else could explain this?’ asked Lucy, proffering an Erasure CD.
‘I’m afraid, there is no explanation for that,’ he deadpanned.
Lucy laughed.
Nicky cracked a little smile. His eyes slid to Lucy’s mouth, and back up to her eyes.
Then he started laughing.
And, because Nicky Broome’s laugh was like some kindof irresistible spell designed to unhinge teenage girls, Lucy laughed harder. Until her stomach ached and a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
It really hadn’t been that funny.
When Lucy caught her breath, she noticed that Nicky was staring at her. His mouth twitched with the faintest hint of a smile. His eyes communicated something unfamiliar. Curiosity? Interest? Maybe he thought she was a lunatic?
