Page 61 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

She nods vigorously. “Only recently, but yeah! Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s you I’ve been hearing on the radio.”

“That’s me.”

Staring in awe, she places her hand under her chin. “Wow. That’s incredible.”

“Maybe you could come to a show one night.”

“You’ll have to tell me in advance, you know I work nights.”

I nod. “Of course. You can come backstage and meet the band and everything.”

“That sounds incredible.”

I bowl next, taking home a spare. “Okay, so I think I’m getting close to your name. Is it a name that has to do with nature?”

She bites her lip. “Hmm . . . that’s a tough one. I suppose, yes, but not in a traditional sense.”

I scratch my head. “Huh, okay.”

“I really don’t think you’re going to get it,” she teases.

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

She grins and steps forward to the ball return. “How did you learn to play bass?”

“Probably the same way most people do when they learn an instrument. Showed up to music class in junior high one day and the only instrument left was the bass. The only time being late for class worked out for me. Turns out, I’m really good at it.”

“Wow.”

“What about you? You ever learn an instrument at school?”

“I wasn’t really allowed to go to school.” She bites the inside of her cheek. “It wasn’t until high school that I ever attended a real school. My dad was convinced it would turn his baby girl into a commie.”

I blink. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

“He still thinks that way?” I ask.

She shrugs her shoulders. “No idea. Haven’t seen him since I was thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Being rid of him was the best thing for me.”

I want to ask her about her mom. Are they close or are they estranged now too? But I have my priorities. “Is your name strictly a name? Or can it also be used in another way?”

“It’s a name that can also be a word,” she says, tucking a flyaway hair behind her ear.

This girl. “Is the first vowel anAor anE?”

Rolling her ball, she hits seven pins and does a little dance. “Nope.”

I press my lips together and roll another strike.

“You’re kicking my ass,” she teases from behind me. “I have to admit, it’s pretty hot.”

Grinning, I walk toward her and gently place my hand on her hip. “If you could please go back in time and tell that to my twelve-year-old self, I’d really appreciate it.”

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