Einstein is judging me.”
“He probably is. Maybe he read your notebook.”
I laughed and went to get my own pajamas from my bag.
Isabel changed the subject so I didn’t have to. “One movie tonight or two?” That was code for “how long should we stay up?”
I smiled. “Two. We have all night.”
My phone buzzed against my thigh and I sat up on Isabel’s pullout couch, disoriented for a moment. The television hummed blue in front of me. Pale morning light shone through the cracks of the blinds. My phone stopped buzzing, then ten seconds later began again.
“Hello?” I answered groggily.
“Lily.” It was my dad. “Your brother’s last soccer game is today. I know you said you wanted to go to one. Just wanted to give you the opportunity.”
“What time is the game?”
“At eight. As in, thirty minutes from now.”
I yawned. Isabel and I hadn’t fallen asleep until after three a.m. But I tried to pull myself together. “Yes, I want to go.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up on the way in twenty minutes.”
“Thanks.”
“Who was it?” Isabel moaned from her bed. She sat up, her normally perfectly spiraled black curls smashed flat against her head.
I tried to tame my own hair, which always became more crazy curls than soft waves in the mornings.
“My dad. Go back to sleep. I have to run.”
“What? Why? What about pancakes?”
“Next time. Thing Two has a soccer game I forgot about.”
“He always has a soccer game.”
“I haven’t been to one yet this year. I promised him I would.”
Isabel plopped back down on her pillow, her eyes already closed. “Okay. See you Monday.”
It took me four minutes to see it on Monday. I had unloaded my book, pencil, and single sheet of paper. Mr. Ortega had begun his lecture. My eyes went to the lyric I had written on the desk Friday. That’s when I saw a line beneath mine written in blocky handwriting.
For the night will soon bring back its shadows.
It was the next line of the song. What? I was confused. Someone else that went to this school had actually heard one of my favorite indie songs? Apparently I wasn’t the only one bored in this class.
I smiled and then quickly wrote beneath the line:
Blackout rocks. I want to be Lyssa Primm when I grow up. I’m impressed you know them.
I wondered how often the janitors wiped down these desks. That message probably wouldn’t even make it to its intended target. It didn’t matter, though; just knowing someone else in this school had excellent taste in music made me happy. I wondered if I knew them. Morris High wasn’t a small school. But only the juniors used the Chemistry room—which ruled out the person I would’ve thought of right away—Lucas. He seemed like he might’ve been just as into obscure bands as I was. But he was a senior. That was just wishful thinking anyway. The odds it was someone I knew were low.
Mr. Ortega. What if he had written this message? Mr. Ortega, a Blackout fan? The thought made me laugh. Out loud. My eyes shot to the front of the room, but my teacher was in the middle of a sentence so thankfully he didn’t seem to notice my outburst.
Lauren, sitting next to me, had, as evidenced by the look on her face. I knew that look. It was basically the silent version of why are you so weird? I thought about telling her I had pictured Mr. Ortega dancing, but I didn’t think that would help. Besides, I’d already learned my lesson about saying things out of context, so I just shrugged.
Then I glanced back at the writing on my desk.
The rest of class seemed to pass by a little faster than normal.
I caught up to Isabel in the hall.
“Why are you so smiley?” she asked.
“I always smile.”
She laughed then stopped. “Okay, actually, you do smile a lot, just not usually at school.”
“That’s because high school is a crusher of souls.”
“Not to be dramatic or anything,” she said.
“Exactly.” But she was right. I was feeling light now, and I could only think of one reason why. “You know that band I’ve told you about? Blackout?”
We stopped at her locker and she took out some books from her backpack and shoved them inside. “No. What do they sing?”
I quietly sang a few lines of one song and when recognition didn’t light her face, I switched to another. “No?” I had played them for her several times. It surprised me she hadn’t remembered.
“Sorry, but you do