Moving Neutral by Katy Atlas Read Free Book Online

nothing to look forward to, which meant there wasn’t really anything left to lose.
    Fine, I yelled to Madison. Let’s do it.
    She jumped up, grinning at me and adjusting her tube top in the same movement. Picking up my overnight bag with one hand, she pushed us past the rest of our row, calling excuse me over her shoulder as she led me out to the aisle. The song was ending, and as Madison pulled me back through an arch leading out of the concert, I heard the first few chords of the next song echo behind us.
    It’s okay, she told me, the music softer now that we were back out in the entryway. We kept walking. I could hear April singing, and even though I knew the words to every song by heart, I couldn’t make them out from here.
    Madison didn’t seem to notice, pulling the box of bars from my bag and striding down the room to a hallway at the far end -- the only one that didn’t obviously lead back out into the arena.
    I thought we were in luck, because there wasn’t a bouncer at the doorway, and we stepped into the dark hall without anyone stopping us.
    Maybe it really is this easy, I thought to myself, trying not to smile.
    Madison was walking ahead of me and I could hear her heels clicking on the tile floor as we went further into the hallway and away from the arena, April’s voice now completely indistinguishable from the music. As the hallway stretched on, a painted black door came into view at the other end, the outlines visible in the darkness about ten feet ahead of us. Gripping the handle, Madison tried to open it. The door didn’t budge.
    I looked at her, wondering what to do next. She nudged me into place behind her and handed me the cardboard box of Luna bars. I opened the lid like some kind of model in a game show, holding the box out in front of me.
    Madison knocked on the door.
    I wondered if they could hear us over the music. I wondered if anyone was even inside. The thought occurred to me that we could be waiting anxiously outside a closet full of janitorial supplies.
    I was about to drag Madison back to our seats when the door opened. The man standing behind it looked about how I imagined a bouncer to look -- huge, angry and terrifying. He was dressed entirely in black, with a multicolored tattoo on his neck and a shaved head. I felt the box of Luna bars shaking in my hands.
    Madison smiled sheepishly at him, as if he was her math teacher and she was turning in late homework. I could hear the music again, coming from his side of the doorway, and I guessed we had found the right place.
    Hi, I’m Lindsey from Contact Public Relations, she said, sounding completely unphased. Flipping her blonde hair over one shoulder, she peered around the bouncer. I’m such an idiot, but I was supposed to get these to April before the show. She gestured to me and the box, standing behind her. I squeezed my lips awkwardly into a smile, hoping to back up what she was saying.
    What’s your name? The bouncer asked, his voice flat and bored, looking down at a clipboard next to the door.
    Lindsey Thompson, Madison repeated. April is supposed to have one of these onstage with her during the encore. It’s totally my fault, I got stuck at a photo shoot for another client, she said, improvising. But we have to get these inside before the show ends.
    He lifted his eyes from the list and looked her up and down, as if he weren’t sure what to tell us. A green section of his tattoo twitched violently on his neck, and his face didn’t reveal a thing. Hang on, he sighed. I’ll see what I can do.
    He shut the door, leaving Madison still facing it. She turned to me, rising up on her toes in excitement, nodding at me silently. Pulling a wisp of hair into a twist with one finger, she breathed out deeply and turned back to the door.
    But when the door opened, it wasn’t the same bouncer. A tall, thin woman in her twenties stood looking down at us, wearing a quilted jacket with the sleeves rolled up. She wasn’t much older than us,