Page 108 of Resurrection
Two coverswith Phoenix Down on a crappy guitar feels a lot less intimidating than I thought it would.
The videos are probably going viral already, which may make Leif’s day or may piss him off. You never know with that guy and his mood swings. But since I passed on Vortex’s offer, I’m leaning toward the pissed-off version of my manager.
Either way, I don’t care. It feels like something’s happening, the good kind of something.
After the set, of course, I’m bombarded by more parents. There’s at least a thousand selfies and all sorts of questions.
Even Principal Markham comes over to shake my hand.
Brittney Fenwick, Naomi’s high school bestie, is now a vice principal and it’s the weirdest thing ever. We all thought she would be a pop star. Turns out, she has other talents.
"You were great," Naomi whispers at me when we get a free moment. "Thank you for doing this." She’s smiling and it’s not sarcastic. It’s genuine, and it’s making me all fuzzy on the inside.
"You’re the only woman I’d do this for," I reply quickly and shift my attention to another parent asking for a photo.
I persevere through it all until the evening finally starts to wind down and people slowly leave. Volunteers clean up the auditorium and the back room. Naomi’s double-checking everything with her clipboard. The pen she’s holding sometimes travels behind her ear when she needs to grab something. Then it’s back between her fingers as she scribbles notes. She hasn’t changed.Not a bit. She was the same busy bee all those years ago. Her need to do things for other people without asking for anything in return is another reason why I’ve been fascinated with her ever since I saw her in the Medinas’ kitchen that day Adri invited me over to play video games.
"Hey, how about a quick trip down memory lane?" I ask her later when we’re about to wrap up for the night. It’s just us and a couple of other people, and she seems to be finished with all the tasks.
"What do you mean?"
"I haven’t stepped foot in here in seventeen years," I remind her. "Let’s go check out our old stomping ground."
She narrows her eyes at me. "Now?"
"It’s perfect. No one’s at school except for the custodian. Unless you want to do it in the daytime."
"God no. Whatever made you think I’d want to be seen with you in public?"
"You were seen with me in public today."
"That’s different," she says defiantly.
"How’s that different?" I tease her.
"Ah, just shut up, Ty, before I changed my mind and kick you out of my life for good." She hands the keys to one of the girls, asking her to lock up, and leads me outside to the building next door. Luckily, it's still unlocked and we quietly sneak inside.
The school smells like floor polish and chalk dust, nostalgia with a hint of troublemaking. I remember skipping algebra with the Brazilian exchange student. Mom threatened to ground me for life after she found out.
Naomi and I pass the classroom where we kissed until we couldn’t breathe when we arrived early so we could spend more time away from the watchful eyes of our parents. The memory is so vivid that suddenly, this crazy idea of really wanting her back doesn’t seem so impossible.
I glance at Naomi, wondering if that spark in her eyes is because she feels the same.
We drift through the hallways, our footsteps echoing a weird rhythm that sounds just right. Dim lights spill pools of shadow and brightness, and it’s like the past and present are duking it out. We pass the lockers where I first told her she was pretty, then she rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
"Everything looks smaller," I say, running my fingers along the scarred metal. The walls are plastered with posters for dances and games, and the whole place is frozen in time.
Naomi chuckles. "You just got bigger, Strings. Outgrew this place, remember?"
"Oh, I do remember. Adri calling me a wannabe rockstar," I joke, but it feels a little too close to the truth.
"He wasn't wrong." She bumps me with her shoulder, and it's like we're eighteen again, making plans and skipping town in our heads.
I nudge her back playfully. My mind jumps to those parents recording us tonight, sharing our little show on every social media platform. I can see Zander somewhere in LA, laughing his ass off and calling Justice to share the joy.
An imaginary headline flashes in my mind.Tyler Brady Is Always Ready to Save the Day: The Former Guitarist of the Deviant, Steps up to Help a Coachella Valley High School Band.
Pathetic.
