More Than Maybe - Erin Hahn Page 0,15

freezer. I don’t get up.

“Sort of, but less showy. Ever hear of a silent disco?”

“I’ve heard of a mobile concert. There’s a park in Detroit that would put one on every year. You wear headphones and stuff?”

Luke nods. “No one would be watching us, because they’d all be in their own worlds.”

“You want me to dance with a bunch of strangers? In a silent rave? In public?”

He grins, tapping his fingers. “Sort of. It’s too cold for parks. There’s a concert Tuesday night at the Filmore, but it’s experimental. Everyone is being issued headphones at the door, and you get to play deejay. But the effect is out of this world. I went to one back in London. It’s about as intimate a setting as you can get. And yeah, you have to dance, but no one is really watching. Well, I might watch. A little. But you could watch me, too. Fair is fair.”

This could either be the coolest thing ever or super awkward and weird. Luke must read this on my face because he backpedals.

“Yeah. Okay. It’s stupid, and now you think I’m super weird. Which, admittedly, I am—”

I cut him off. “Hold on. Yes,” I admit, “it’s an unusual idea. But I’m also a little embarrassed I’ve never tried anything like it before. I mean, for all my bluster, if I can’t hang with an experimental concert, who am I even?”

“Really?”

“I think so?” I straighten. “No, I know so. Yes. Count me in. Before I can change my mind,” I finish with a nervous laugh.

His entire face lights up. “That’s brilliant. I’ll see if I can borrow Cullen’s car and pick you up at 5:00? The show starts at 6:00, and maybe after we can get a bite to eat. I have an 11:00 p.m. curfew on school nights.”

“Same,” I say. “If you can’t drive, I can ask my mom for her car.”

He shakes his head. “No way. This is all on me.” He starts gathering up his things as more people start arriving for the afternoon shift, including Phil, who definitely notices who I’m sitting with, and it’s just as well since I need to intervene before Kazi cuts all the limes into fancy shapes again. Ain’t no one got time for that sort of high-class fruffery.

I scrawl my number on a napkin. “Here,” I say, passing it over. “Text me yours. That way we can make arrangements.”

He takes the napkin and folds it carefully before tucking it into his jeans pocket. “Excellent.” He flings his backpack over both shoulders and picks up his board at the door. “I’ll talk to you soon, Vada.”

“Bye, Luke.”

I feel eyes on me as I watch Luke walk out the front door, and I busy myself with cleaning up our cups.

“What?” I bite out after a minute.

“Not a thing,” Phil says mildly. “Not a single thing.”

* * *

Later that night, I’m at Meg’s. My mom was cooking dinner for Phil, and while they didn’t explicitly tell me to make other plans, my mom’s recently jumped on the Whole 30 bandwagon. Phil might have to put up with no cheese, grains, or sugar out of love and adoration, but I sure as heck don’t.

“So, Vada, Megan tells us you got into UCLA? That’s ambitious. I bet Mary’s already crying over you moving across the country,” Mrs. Hennessey says. I swallow my alfredo. Everyone calls my mom Mary, and I can’t bring myself to call the Hennesseys anything other than Mr. and Mrs. Hennessey. They just feel like a Mr. and Mrs. kind of family.

“If she is, I don’t hear it,” I reply, keeping my tone light. “I’m sure she’ll be sad—it’s always been the two of us—but she’s really excited for me.” This is my staple response, and I’ve gotten good at it. Reviews are a mixed bag when it comes to my college choice. Marcus is against anything that’s not free, Grandma Connie sniffs and wonders aloud why I need a career, and most everyone else acts like I am purposely trying to rip out my mom’s heart.

The only one not against my choice is my mom, who is maybe a little wistful but extremely supportive and enthusiastic. I think Phil helps in that he’s not going anywhere and is certain of my impending success. But also, my mom is just a stellar human being. Seriously the best.

“Mom, I told you, Vada’s got California in her blood. She’s going to rock their world out there.” Meg’s eyes meet mine, and