Page 51 of Valentine's Slave

“I want to hear some of their old, hardcore screamo stuff,” Malcolm says, his face lighting up. “That’ll start a Wall of Death in the mosh pit for sure.”

Hailey interrupts her own conversation to shoot me a death glare. “If you let him anywhere near the Wall of Death—”

“Hails, chill.”

“What’s a Wall of Death?” Mom asks.

“It’s when half the people in the mosh pit go to one side and half go to the other side, and then, when the beat drops, they all run at each other,” Malcolm explains with a big smile.

“It’s kind of like the heavy-metal version of Red Rover,” I say, referring to a game that Hailey and I used to play at school until it got banned after a kid broke his arm.

“That sounds dangerous, honey,” Mom says to Malcolm.

“People aren’t trying to hurt each other,” I clarify. “They take care of each other, and if someone falls down, everyone else helps them up.”

This is all technically true, but it doesn’t mean you won’t get an elbow to the face by accident. Hailey glares at me.

“But we’re not going to be in there, anyway,” I add. “It’s mostly for full-grown adults, mostly men. I don’t even go into the Circle Pit—which is a more intense mosh pit, with everyone running in a circle. Malcolm, when you’re a little bigger and taller, you can go in the Wall of Deathandthe Circle Pit, okay? For now,your Auntie Ava needs a strong bodyguard like you to make sure nobody plows her over.”

Malcolm beams. “I can do that.”

Our conversation gradually drifts back to normal. After we eat, Hailey records as we sing ‘Happy Birthday’, and Malcolm blows out the ten candles.

“By the way, we have to leave extra early for the show tonight,” I add as we sink our teeth into the candy-like pecan pie.

“There’s going to be a snowstorm,” Hailey says. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the show got cancelled.”

“It can’t be cancelled!” Malcolm protests.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t talking about that,” I assure him. “Our tickets have been upgraded to VIP, with early access and a meet and greet.”

Malcolm’s eyes turn into saucers. “Really! How?”

Hailey is looking suspicious now. I would have waited until it was just Malcolm and me to spill the news, but if we try to leave the house over an hour early, she’ll know something’s up.

“BMTH was doing a rally for a free upgrade, and we won,” I explain.

“So, I get to meet Oli Sykes?” Malcolm exclaims.

“You betcha.”

I’m even excited about it. Now that I think about it, Oli Sykes is a devoted vegan—maybe he would get along with Valentino. I wonder if Valentino had to pay anyone off to get VIP tickets on such late notice.

“Your grandpa once took us to a Rascal Flatts concert,” Mom says to Malcolm. “Hailey and Ava, you girls remember, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I say. Dad loved Rascal Flatts, and one year he bought us tickets for Christmas. I would have preferred to see Linkin Park, but it was still a decent show.

Mom looks pleased. “I’ll have to ask him if he knows who this BMT . . . What did you say they’re called?”

“It’s short for Bring Me the Horizon,” Hailey explains.

When Malcolm goes to brush his teeth, Hailey turns to me. “A rally, huh?” she asks.

“Yes.” I keep a straight face.

“You know you’re glowing right now,” she says quietly so Mom won’t hear. “Looks like someone’s better in bed than Shawner the Goner ever was.”

I just smile. “You have no idea.”

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