The Stars Will Shine by Eva Carrigan Read Free Book Online Page A

than usable. After a cursory glance around the store, I slide the top vinyl cover off the stack closest to me and read the front.
    Deja Entendu by Brand New.
    “How…” I start aloud in awe, but I’m interrupted quite suddenly.
    “I hope you aren’t planning to run with that.” I jump and immediately set the record back upon its pile. A young man emerges from one of the back aisles. It’s like a bookstore here, one of those antique ones with tall bookcases, all dark wood, but instead of books, the shelves are all stocked with vinyl records. “I’d really hate to lose that one.”
    “But…So, you aren’t selling it then?”
    The young man pushes his brown curly hair from his eyes and gives me an easy grin. “Oh no,” he says, shaking his head, which causes his curls to sway and bounce a little. “These are selling for, like, $600 on Ebay. Just got it myself today to add to my own collection.” My eyes go wide. “Not for $600 though,” he clarifies. “I got lucky. It’s my favorite album of theirs.”
    “Mine, too,” I say, unsure why I’m even sharing this. Maybe I miss talking about things with someone who will get it—someone who will understand why something means so much to me because it means just as much to them.
    “They might be doing a repress of it,” he tells me.
    “Really?”
    “That’s what I heard.” His eyes flick to the record. “Do you want me to put it on right now?” Without waiting for an answer, he lifts the case, and, with a wink at me, slides the record from it. He flips it as he carries it around the checkout counter. “I’m Trevyn by the way.” He disappears for a second as he ducks behind the counter, and before I can give him my name, the music starts and I am swept away in it.
    It is desperate. And it is beautiful.
    “Tautou,” I say, naming the song as I close my eyes. I take it in—the start of the drum, the rise and fall of the guitar riff, the raw passion with which Jesse Lacey sings about a burning desire.
    I should hate this song for all it reminds me of. Because I was there once. But instead of wanting to feel a boy’s touch in the throes of passion, I desired his love. I desired the emotional intimacy and the affirmation that I was his and his alone and all he would ever want. And, in the end, that childish wish left me devoid of so much.
    “You know that an album is great when the first song delivers a punch that can bring you to your knees,” Trevyn says, his voice cutting through my thoughts. I open my eyes. He’s looking at me like we share a connection now. I swallow, still standing by the door, and glance away from him. He turns the music down a little. “You can come in further, you know. What’s your name?”
    “Delilah,” I answer.
    “Well, Delilah, welcome to Miles of Vinyls, my personal heaven.”
    “You own this place?”
    Trevyn crosses his arms and nods. “Started it two years ago when I graduated college with a double major in Mechanical Engineering and Biochemistry.”
    My jaw drops. “You’re kidding.” He’s some sort of genius then.
    He shakes his head, his smile growing wider, and then he starts to laugh. “You can imagine what my parents think of that.”
    “I take it they aren’t too happy with your occupational choice?”
    “Nah, but they’re slowly getting over it. They love me.” He shrugs. “And they’re starting to admit to themselves that they’re still proud of me.”
    “You’ve got good parents then,” I say softly without thinking, and then rush to change the subject. “So, have you hired any other workers?” I drift towards the first aisle, drawn in by the high shelves overflowing with vinyls.
    Trevyn’s eyes twinkle. He places his hands flat on the record stacks on the counter and leans forward so he can maintain sight of me as I move farther down the aisle. “Why? You looking?”
    “For the summer at least,” I answer. My hand wanders up to pull out a record. “Maybe the school year,