Read Harmonic Feedback Online

Authors: Tara Kelly

Harmonic Feedback (25 page)

BOOK: Harmonic Feedback
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I grabbed it and jumped off the bed. He crept toward me, tossing the pillow in the air and catching it again. I charged at him and our pillow–sword fight began. Unfortunately, his height gave him the ability to bop me on top of the head. But I did have a lower center of gravity and better access to a more sensitive region. After he got me in the face, I ducked and flung my pillow at him like a Frisbee. Right where it counted.

He hunched over and winced. “Okay, that was a low blow. You don’t play fair.”

“How can I play fair when we didn’t make any rules?”

“You need to have a reason to go for the balls, okay? Like what you did with Scott. That rocked. This didn’t.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think it would hurt that much. The pillow being soft and everything.”

He walked toward me, shaking his head. “Smart-ass.”

I backed into the wall.

He picked up my pillow and smiled. “You might want to hold on to your
weapon
next time.”

I squeezed my eyes shut as he raised the pillows, expecting to be hit from both sides. Instead, I heard the soft whisper of them hitting the floor when his lips touched mine. The kiss was gentle and a little salty. His hands ran down my back, and heat bled through the gauzy material of my black dress. I kissed him back the only way I knew how. My way.

I slipped my fingers underneath his T-shirt, enjoying the silky feeling of his skin. It gave him goose bumps, which made me smile because I had them too. He tilted his head to the side and moved closer to me, and I ended up licking his chin. We both laughed.

“Sorry,” I said.

He cupped my face. “It happens.”

His hands skimmed the curve of my hips. Stubble beneath his lower lip made my chin feel raw, but I didn’t care. Every inch of me seemed to buzz, yet my mind probably couldn’t string two words together. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his scent. A mix of rain, salt, and trees—or bath soap and sweat, if I wanted to get technical.

His mouth hovered near my ear. “We shouldn’t leave Naomi up there any longer. They could be clawing each other’s eyes out by now.”

“They’ll be okay,” I said, pulling him closer.

He studied my face and traced the edge of my nose. “You think so?”

We leaned toward each other again, but the basement door swung open.

“Are you guys decent?” Naomi called, half laughing.

“Yes,” Justin said before moving back and sitting on the bed.

I followed and sat against the headboard again, my lips still tingling.

“You guys have been down here a really long time. I was worried we’d have to call the fire department.” She appeared at the foot of the stairs.

“Har, har,” Justin said, rolling his eyes.

She stuck her tongue out at him and plopped in my computer chair. “Teaching an old person how to use eBay is like trying to teach a newborn how to read
Moby-Dick
.”

Justin snickered. “I could’ve told you that.”

“I’m not following,” I said.

She spun the chair around in fast circles. “I just spent the last twenty minutes trying to convince your grandma to sell her crap online. She kind of lost it when she saw that people sell cars and houses on there. And the term FAQ is foreign to her. Anyway, you’re off the hook. I just helped her put everything away. Only catch is she wants you to sell the stuff on eBay for her.”

“That’s what I wanted to do in the first place. She said no.”

“What can I say, I have the magic grandma touch.” She stopped spinning and looked at me. “So, are you still pissed at me?”

“No.”

“I’m going to run around the corner to Subway. You guys want something?” Justin asked.

After we gave him our sandwich orders, he leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. “See you in a bit,” he whispered.

I bit my lip and nodded, trying to hold back a smile. It was weird being mushy in front of Naomi.

She waited for him to leave before throwing herself on my bed. “Is he a good kisser?”

“I think so.”

Naomi stretched her legs over the side and gazed at the ceiling. “I bet he is. The sensitive types usually are.”

“I need to tell you something.” I clutched the comforter between my hands.

She exhaled sharply. “Look, I’m sorry. It was just so cute how excited you looked. I haven’t been that giddy over a kiss in a long time.”

“That isn’t it. I—”

Naomi sat up and crawled over to me. “Wait, don’t tell me.” She put a hand on each shoulder. “You and Justin are getting hitched in Vegas.”

“No! Can you be serious for a minute?”

She let go of my shoulders and collapsed back on the bed. “I got you out of garage sale hell. It’s Saturday. Your hot boyfriend is bringing us lunch. And you’re still finding reason to be a downer.”

“He’s not my—”

“He’s not your boyfriend, I know. You guys just smooch and hang out almost every day. And he talks about you like you’re a goddess.”

“He does?”

She looked up at me. “Uh-huh. He got
that look
in his eyes when he talked about you last night. Do you know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

“And he talked about how smart and awesome you are. It was kind of sickening. I don’t think a guy has ever called me smart. I usually get ‘Hey, baby, yer hot.’”

I lay down next to her. “Because you date jerks.”

“Guys like Justin aren’t interested in girls like me. I’ve never been smart or arty enough. I’m not an endless source of music trivia, and I don’t hate everything on the radio. Oh, well. Bad boys are more exciting anyway.”

“Even when they call you a psycho bitch and hit you?”

“I said something really messed up about his family. Something I knew would hurt him.”

“He hit you, Naomi.”

“Can we talk about something else?”

I propped myself on my elbow and stared down at her. “Don’t go back to him. You promised.”

She sat up. “I’m not, okay? Just shut up about him already.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Because you won’t drop it!” She ran her hands through her messy hair. “You’re just sitting there and judging me. It’s so easy for you. You don’t even know—”

Justin opened the door upstairs. “Food’s here. Come up when you guys are ready.”

Naomi hopped up and ran for the stairs. “Good, I’m starving!”

“Wait,” I called after her. “We need to finish talking.”

She spun around, a dark look in her eyes. “It’s a nice day, Drea. Quit trying to ruin it.”

">

After lunch we decided to walk around downtown Bellingham and film random things. Naomi gave us a guided tour around the pint-sized area. She interviewed various people we passed, asking them to list their favorite places. Most picked the bay, trails, or parks, and a few chose Railroad Avenue. But one person said jail and another said “wherever the pigeons hang out.” Not everyone was sober. We left with plenty of interesting footage.

When we got back to my house, we looked at the music sites I had uploaded “Invisible” to. There were several comments—all of them very complimentary. People raved about Naomi’s voice, saying she sounded like an angel.

Naomi smiled and covered her face. “I figured people would hate my voice.”

“Why would you think that?” Justin asked. “You’ve got more raw talent than anyone I’ve ever met. You haven’t even had any lessons, right?”

“Just years in my shower.”

I scrolled down the comments, reading them over again. “This one says, ‘Why isn’t this song on the radio? Very catchy tune with great production and an incredible vocalist. Who is this girl, and how can I get her to sing on my tracks?’”

Naomi’s ears turned red. “Wow.”

“I’ve played this song sixteen times,” I continued reading. “And that piano melody haunts me every time. Beautiful.”

Justin smiled. “We’ve got our amazing producer to thank.”

“I just polished it up and stuck it online,” I said.

He stroked my hair. “You know you did a lot more than that. All of the programming you put into it. The drums are sweet. It sounds amazing.”

“Naomi’s live beat helped too.”

Naomi announced she needed a bathroom break and ran up the stairs.

I stretched and moved closer to Justin. “Do you work tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me into his lap. “Did you tell her?”

I rested my head against his shoulder and told him what she said. “She won’t let me bring up anything serious. How am I supposed to tell her that I’m a liar? Or that my mom is calling her dad because I opened my stupid mouth?”

“No offense, but you’re a really bad liar. At least it wasn’t a surprise for me when you admitted you never went skydiving.”

I elbowed him.

“Be nice,” he whispered.

I looked up at him. “What should I do?”

“I can’t tell you that. You know Naomi better than I do.” He stroked my cheek.

“That doesn’t help.”

“I know—I suck. I’m sorry.”

Being so close to him relaxed me. I ran my fingers under his sleeve, trying to guess the shape of his tattoo.

Footsteps echoed from the stairs. I pulled back to see Naomi watching us. She wasn’t smiling this time. “Maybe I should leave you two alone.”

“No, we have to record ‘Dawn,’” I said.

Naomi made her way down the stairs. “I’m in the mood to celebrate those killer reviews we got.”

“How?” I asked.

“Let’s take a trip.” She moved in front of us and pulled a baggy out of her jeans. A few shriveled brown pieces of something sat inside.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“’Shrooms,” Justin muttered. “They make you hallucinate, basically.”

“Why would anyone want to do that?” I whispered.

He shrugged. “Some people think it’s fun.”

Naomi raised her eyebrows. “Well?”

“I want to work on ‘Dawn,’ like we planned,” I said.

“So, let’s eat a couple first.” She grinned. “It’ll make practice more interesting.”

“Why do we need to make it more interesting?” I asked.

She tilted her head back, rolling her eyes. “Ugh. Don’t start with the dumb questions, Drea.”

I clenched my fists. That was the second time she’d said that to me.

“It wasn’t a dumb question,” Justin said, his fingers tracing the back of my hand.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll eat them by myself.”

“Not during band practice,” he said. “We agreed, remember?”

Naomi’s eyes narrowed at him. “Oh my God—they’re just ’shrooms!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said softly.

She shook her head and shoved the baggy back into her pocket. “No offense, Justin. But maybe they let you out of rehab too early.”

Justin’s arms tensed around me. I sucked in my breath, expecting him to yell. I sure wanted to, but no words came out of my parted lips.

“Recovery takes a long time, Naomi,” he said. “And being around people who are wasted doesn’t help.”

She looked at the ground, running her fingers through her hair again. “Maybe I should just go. I’m kind of beat anyway.”

“I wasn’t asking you to leave,” Justin said.

“Yeah, I know, but…” She shrugged.

“Stay.” My voice came out softer than I expected.

Naomi glanced up at me then. Something about the look in her eyes made my stomach hurt. “I’ll see you later.”

I watched her climb the stairs, torn between going after her and staying in Justin’s arms. One route was unpredictable and draining, the other—warm and exciting. I chose Justin, but wished I hadn’t let her go. Especially when she didn’t answer her phone the rest of the weekend.

F
riday, September 28

It’s lunchtime, and I’m supposed to be finishing up my film review. Justin and I didn’t get around to it last night. He’s working on his right now. I like to watch him and guess what he’s thinking about. Right now he’s bobbing his head to whatever is playing on his iPod. His lips are moving a little bit, but there is no sound coming out. I wonder if he ever puts music lyrics into his homework. I’ve done that several times. He just peeked up at me and smiled. I love it when he does that.

Naomi is smoking with Roger. She’s been spending a lot more time with him. Even riding home with him instead of us. She hasn’t shown up for practice all week. Justin told her that she can’t just keep blowing the band off, but she rolled her eyes and flipped him off.

She nods more and talks less. Her eyes look bruised underneath and red around the edges, but wide open like she’s afraid she’ll blink and miss something. I asked her if she was okay yesterday. She said she was sick of me asking her that.

Mom keeps checking their driveway for her dad’s SUV. She asked me to get his cell number. I told her I wouldn’t do it. She asked me when he’d be home. I told her I didn’t know. I really don’t want the weekend to come.

BOOK: Harmonic Feedback
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