Music From Another World - Robin Talley Page 0,103
me, carefully turning the knob so the latch wouldn’t make a sound.
I stepped over to the portable turntable he’d jammed into the corner. There was a record already on it—Queen, A Night at the Opera.
That wouldn’t work. You can’t have a conversation with Queen playing. I lifted it off, found an old Elton John album in the stack next to the wall, and dropped it onto the table, turning the volume on low.
“Hi,” I whispered after the first song started. “Do you think Mom can hear us over this?”
“Mom’s asleep.” Peter hadn’t moved. He was lying on his back with his arm cast over his eyes. “Which is also how I’d like to be. You know who’s asleep downstairs, too, but I guess you don’t care about that.”
“Not really.”
“Please don’t lie to me, sister dear.”
I sighed. “You talked to her.”
“We live in the same house. We talk all the time. You used to talk to us, too.”
I sighed again. “Where’d you go tonight? Out with Dean?”
“Sure you want to know?” He lowered his arm and wiggled his eyebrows.
“You already told me way more than I wanted to hear about that guy from camp. I had to listen to the story about how you snuck into the counselors’ cabin during the marshmallow roast at least twenty times.”
Peter tilted his head with a serene smile. “I’ll always think of Curtis whenever I bite into a s’more.”
“What, you’re into him again?”
“No, merely relishing a brief moment of nostalgia. I’m very much into Dean now.” His smile widened. “What do you think of him?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. I’m being polite.” He smirked. “Anyway…come on, what do you think?”
“I don’t know. He seems okay, I guess. He seriously goes to Stanford?”
“Yeah. He’s a political science major. His family lives in Bakersfield, but he’s spending the summer in the city so he can work on Prop 6.”
“Huh. Is he a nerd?”
“Probably, but he’s a cute nerd. I’m not sure how much he likes me, though.”
“He came running across a whole crowd to make out with you. I’d say he likes you.”
Peter’s grin widened, and he stood up, stretching. His elbow knocked into the window, and the frame clattered. He winced and rubbed his arm. “Eh. He might be flirting just to flirt.”
“Making out in the middle of the street is ‘flirting’?”
“Sometimes. And on that subject, may I ask why I very clearly saw you holding hands with a certain blond lesbian from Orange County to whom you’re currently not speaking during Harvey’s speech on Sunday?”
I was so stunned I couldn’t even blush.
He saw us?
“Look, it didn’t mean anything.” I was stumbling over the words, scrambling to come up with some explanation. “It was an accident.”
“Uh-huh.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest. He was enjoying this. (In other news, my brother is a horrible person.) “Which is it? Was it an accident, or did it not mean anything?”
“Both! I mean, I had no intention of doing it. It just…happened.”
“Sure. So you pulled your hand away?”
“Yes. Of course.”
When I shut my eyes, I could see exactly how Tammy looked when she turned toward me that day. Her smile was so clear in my memory, it was as though we were back in that spot right now.
I’d been feeling too many different things to sort them all out when I stood next to her in the crowd that day, but now that it was just me and Peter—the memory of being in that place, with her hand in mine…
It felt right. It shouldn’t, but it did.
“Shar?” Peter’s voice dropped lower. “Are you crying?”
I turned to face the wall. I hadn’t cried in front of my brother since fifth grade, but suddenly I couldn’t stop. “No.”