Page 14 of A Flash of Neon
“Yeah, I’m in a band called The Pyramid Club.”
I have another of those dizzying moments when I remember he is my story come to life. I picked that name for his band after reading about a venue in his neighbourhood where loads of famous people performed in the eighties.
Neon strums a chord and looks up at Mr Ross. “Do you mind? I couldn’t bring my guitar with me on this trip, so I haven’t played in a few days.”
“Oh, be my guest.” Mr Ross makes a sweeping gesture with his hand. “It’s not like I’ve got a class to teach or anything.”
My cheeks burn even hotter, but Neon doesn’t pick up on Mr Ross’s wry grin or the sarcasm in his voice. Everyone in the class is smirking and muttering. If I was them, I might be too. I hate to say it, but Neon looks so arrogant, waltzing into a classroom, announcing he’s in a band, grabbing the spotlight uninvited. But then he starts to play.
He plays a stripped-back acoustic version of an old Kylie Minogue song with a really complicated guitar riff for the bridge – I saw a girl cover it like that online a few years ago and it’s still one of my favourites. His voice is light and smooth; his hands move like water over the frets of the guitar.
As he plays, the energy in the room changes. There’s something about watching someone this talented doing what they do best. All the cynicism melts away and everyone, even Mr Ross, just enjoys the music, bobbing their heads or half dancing in their seats. It’s the best Monday morning I’ve had in ages.
When Neon finishes, the whole class bursts into applause.
“That was amazing!” Matt shouts. “He actuallyisJim Henson.”
“That was excellent, Neon.” Mr Ross looks half impressed, half jealous. He’s in a Fall Out Boy cover band called Fall Oot Boy (they sing all the songs in Scots) so he probably has his own dreams of musical stardom. “When did you start to play?”
“Do another one,” Hari says, interrupting Neon’s story about trying to play his Uncle Mack’s guitar with tiny fingers when he was four. Mr Ross tries to protest, saying we need to get on with some work, but half the class boos to drown him out, and eventually he throws up his hands in defeat and says Neon can doonemore. Just one.
In the end, Neon ends up filling almost two-thirds of the class with songs. He and Mr Ross even do a duet of the only Fall Out Boy song that I (and therefore Neon) actually know. By the time the bell rings, Mr Ross is full-on fanboying over Neon. He even tells him he can take one of the school guitars home to practise with while he’s here, which must be a first.
As I’m packing up my stuff, Hari, Russell and Matt rush over to Neon and sweep him out of the classroom without me. Hari says something about a cousin who works for a music label in London, how he could hook him up with some contacts, though Hari once claimed that his uncle was Rihanna’s personal driver, and it turned out he only gave her a ride in his taxi. I fall in line beside Caitlin and Hannah.
“Neon is so good!” Caitlin says, slipping her arm through mine. “Like, he could be famous. He probablywillbe famous.”
“Maybe.” I grin. “Get his autograph while you still can.”
“Listen.” Hannah links my other arm with hers. “We wanted to say we’re sorry that we didn’t believe you.”
“When I said it sounded too good to be true, I didn’t mean Neon was too goodfor you,” Caitlin says. “He’s not like the boys in our year, you know? He’s so interesting and so different. And he’s cute.”
I give a weak laugh. “It’s OK. He kind of is too good to be true.”
“Right? I can’t believe he was your first kiss. Mine was withthat.” She points across the corridor, where Dylan Jeffries is attempting to fart on one of his friends. He and Caitlin went out for four weeks in first year and she’s still embarrassed about it. “You’re so lucky, Laurie.”
“So.” Hannah leans in towards me and lowers her voice. “Have you two kissed again?”
My cheeks burn. Both she and Caitlin sent me multiple messages asking me the same thing yesterday, but I didn’t reply.
“No.” I glance over at Neon. He’s further down the corridor, laughing at something Hari is saying. “Honestly it’s not like that at all.”
“Laurie!” Caitlin shoves my shoulder playfully. “What are you waiting for? He’s leaving on Saturday!”
“He’s only been here two days,” I say. “Besides it’s awkward at my house. Joel’s always around.”
“Do you want us to get him out of there for you?” Hannah grins. “We could call and tell him that someone’s, like, giving out free ice cream at the Co-op. He’d go running out, and you and Neon could have some alone time together.”
Caitlin scoffs. “That’s so stupid. Joel would recognise our voices for one thing, and he’d wonder why someone had called to tell him personally about free ice cream.”
Hannah blinks. Caitlin doesn’t often use that sharp, scathing tone with her. It’s usually reserved for me.
“I was only joking.” Hannah looks down at her hands and picks at her nail polish. “It wasn’t a serious suggestion.”
“Joel’s lactose intolerant, so that wouldn’t work.” I laugh to clear the atmosphere. “If we told him somebody was giving out free textbooks, it might be different. All he does these days is study.”
“So he’s not going to barge in on you or anything. Perfect.” Caitlin prods me in the arm. “Come on. Go for it before you regret it.”
