Bright Lights, Dark Nights by Stephen Emond Read Free Book Online Page B

WalterW1014: Don’t tell Kate though …
    10/23 10:36 NateTheGreat01: Kate would demand you go, you know that right?
    10/23 10:37 NateTheGreat01: So what’s the dilemma? Sounds like a sweet deal.
    10/23 10:37 WalterW1014: I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. Believe it or not I might make a poor impression.
    10/23 10:38 NateTheGreat01: If you don’t go, I’ll go. I’m single now. She sounds hot.
    10/23 10:38 WalterW1014: I haven’t said a thing about her.
    10/23 10:39 WalterW1014: Here’s the thing. I’m in a pretty good space now.
    10/23 10:39 NateTheGreat01: Perfect, go
    10/23 10:40 WalterW1014: and if I go, like her, things don’t work out, bam. Distraught for the rest of high school.
    10/23 10:40 NateTheGreat01: You’re not in a good space, you’re distraught now. This IM wouldn’t be happening in a good space.
    10/23 10:40 NateTheGreat01: Who is this mystery girl?
    10/23 10:40 WalterW1014: She’s a junior, Naomi Mills. Don’t tell anyone, though.
    10/23 10:41 NateTheGreat01: Really? Wow, okay
    10/23 10:41 NateTheGreat01: I dig it. You should definitely go.
    10/23 10:42 WalterW1014: Yeah, I guess so. I already said yes, so I guess I have to.
    10/23 10:42 NateTheGreat01: Walter. Go. This is an order. I’m happy for you.
    10/23 10:42 NateTheGreat01: This is going to be amazing, you’ll see. Best night of your life.
    *   *   *
    It’s a strange feeling when you’re on the bus with a pretty girl and somehow you’d rather be in front of it. Maybe some of us are just conditioned to the bad things, and even though we hate them, it’s what we know and what we’re comfortable with. We’ve adapted to crappiness and anything more or less is unsettling.
    I was already blowing it. I had to be boring her. Did she just want to go to this concert and I happened to be a decent-enough excuse to escape the family watchdogs? Was she expecting someone else there? What if it was a guy, a secret boyfriend? Was the whole night going to be weird? Those were the questions running through my head as I sat next to the prettiest girl I’d ever seen and couldn’t think of anything to say for going on three minutes. That was a lot of time for awkward silence on what could, conceivably, be a first date.
    I was people-watching, trying to keep my brain distracted from all the negative thoughts, before it got me in trouble. I found more than a few people on their way to a rock concert, based on the median college age and abundance of Foo Fighters T-shirts. Naomi, on the other hand, had actual fashion sense. She wore a jean jacket better than most. And the bracelets—she accessorized. I never hung out with anyone who accessorized.
    We were on our way to the High Hill section of the city, and the buildings were getting taller the closer we got; the lights were getting brighter.
    â€œHave you seen Uncle Dave lately?” Naomi asked, breaking our epic bout of silence. “Do you see him often? Does he know you’re coming?” She’d been trying to pin me down on the Uncle Dave fib ever since that dinner. This running joke was turning into a marathon.
    â€œYeah, I see him when he’s in town,” I said, rolling with the story. “We have a secret language. If he plays ‘Everlong,’ it’s a message to me because he knows that’s my favorite.” I never talked to anyone the way I talked to Naomi. It was like a game of volleyball in which neither of us ever missed, we were that in tune with each other’s playing style.
    â€œOh wow,” Naomi said. “I hope they play it. That’ll be so cool for you. And I’ll know the real reason they’re playing it. So do you listen to anything but rap Rap and ‘Everlong’?”
    â€œI like everything, remember?” I said. “I like the Beatles.”
    â€œThe Beatles?” Naomi asked. “Who’s that? I