The Revenge Artist - Philip Siegel Page 0,33
I ask.
“Totally. Did you listen to their new album?”
“Of course,” I say, lying into my drink. “The lead singer is super cute.” I looked the guy up online. He’s like Fred’s grungier cousin, so I do think he’s sorta cute.
“I’m partial to the drummer,” Leo says.
“Me, too!” Fruity Minty girl says, almost spilling her drink. “His girlfriend seems like such a bitch.”
“Well, he’s kind of stuck with her.” Leo takes a sip of his drink. I look to him for clarification. “He tattooed her name on his chest, and the lead single off their new album is about their relationship.” He whispers into my ear: “I crammed.”
“A-plus,” I whisper back.
I find out Fruity Minty girl’s name is Gretchen. We continue discussing all things Jessalyns, dishing about our favorite songs, band gossip, past concert war stories. Her friends join in our conversation, and we’re just a bunch of fans bonding. Leo shoots me a few stealth eye rolls throughout our night. “You love all things Jessalyns,” I remind him.
Gretchen’s crew, all of them students at the local university in Ashland, take us under their wing. We’re the babies of the group, and there’s nothing older people like more than being the mother hen. It lets girls who are only three years older feel like wise old ladies. I laugh when needed and nod when called for, all while carefully checking on Dominick. Geoff and Jeff blatantly check out girls walking past them. I’m surprised their eyes haven’t dried out from not blinking.
“Do you guys want a drink?” Gretchen flashes her wristband.
I give an overdramatic sigh, laying on the innocent high schooler thick. “I don’t know. I have to drive.”
“I get that. The Jessalyns haven’t even gone on yet. One drink now, and you’ll be fine by the end,” Gretchen assures me.
I look to Leo, who definitely could use alcohol. “Sure.”
Once she leaves, Leo grabs my elbow. “When am I actually going to talk to Dominick?”
“Let’s wait until The Jessalyns go on,” I say, buying more time.
“I brought my iPod for when they do,” he says.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Once Dominick and I start dating, his taste in music is the first thing I’m changing.”
After a good half hour, The Jessalyns start playing. We sip our cranberry vodkas, and Leo makes a pained face whenever the vodka part hits his lips. He acts pumped by the songs, or maybe it’s just his excitement and nerves bouncing through him. Dominick listens intently to the music, head slightly bowed in order to better focus. He’s in his own world. The Firehouse is his personal headphone set. I never knew he could be focused and artsy like this, not just a jock. I love times like these when I realize my classmates are three-dimensional. Dominick’s social armor has been removed. He’s just a guy listening to his favorite band.
That’s when it hits me.
I nudge Leo. “Ow, why did you hit me?”
“It’s time to put the plan in motion,” I yell into his ear. Once the song stops, I seize the precious moments of downtime and turn to Gretchen. “So how cute is Leo?”
“Adorable!” She rubs his hair, and Leo blushes a Shirley Temple red.
“Can you believe he’s still single?”
“It’s a travesty,” she says.
“How would you like to help?”
She gives me an awkward look, intrigued but hesitant.
“You see,” I tell her. “Down there is the guy of Leo’s dreams. Red-and-blue shirt. Long, black hair.”
Gretchen peers over my head. “And that smile! I approve.”
I point out Geoff and Jeff, right behind him. “And those are the obstacles.”
“Oh, Leo is so much cuter.”
“Luckily that’s not the problem.”
I explain my plan. The girls will go downstairs and flirt with the Jeffs, leaving Dominick alone. Leo will swoop in with a “Oh, don’t you go to Ashland?” and buy him a drink. A martini. Stirred.
“But I’m not twenty-one. I can barely buy him a Sprite.”
“Not tonight. Can we borrow that?” I ask Gretchen, and my eyes drift down to her wristband. “It’s all in the name of love.”
“Sure,” she says, like it’s nothing. She rips off her wristband, making sure it tears at the white sticky part. A real pro. “I have five friends who can still get me drunk.”
I put it on Leo’s wrist and seal it with my gum.
“They’re totally going to bust me.”
“All they care about is the wristband. You’re golden.”
Leo gulps down a breath and glances below us. Panic flashes on his reddening face. “I don’t know, Becca. Maybe I’m not his type.”
I grip his shoulders in a