Page 19 of A Flash of Neon
“Oh yeah? What’s that, then?”
I should have known Carrie ‘Nancy Drew’ O’Connor would ask for details. “A song. We’re going to perform it together at school on Friday.”
“Oh, brilliant! I’ve heard you singing at home a few times. You sound great.” She finally hands over the dish in her hands, as if it’s a reward for providing her with some vaguely interesting information. “Anyway – shepherd’s pie. My veggie version. I thought you and Joel could have it for your tea. I noticed you had a delivery on Saturday night, so I figured you’d used up that takeaway money already!”
She laughs, waves and heads back to her house. Neon has the good sense to wait until she’s safely inside before emerging from the bush. He scurries down the path and hurries through my front door. His eyes are bright.
“So we’re doing it? We’re actually going to sing together?”
“No!” I close the door and pick a leaf out of Neon’s hair. “That was the first thing that came into my head.”
“Oh, comeonnnn.” Neon drags the word all the way to the kitchen. “What if Carrie mentions it in front of your moms?”
“Then I’ll lie again,” I say, though the thought of that makes me feel uncomfortable.
I’m a good liar because I have a good memory. When I was making up my story about Neon for Caitlin and Hannah, I had to keep track of everything I’d said so I didn’t contradict myself. But I’ve had to tell so many lies recently. I don’t want to add any more to the list unless it’s totally necessary.
“Come on, Laurie,” Neon whines again. He puts his hands on my shoulders and pouts. “I’ll have to go back to the Realm on Saturday, so if you think about it this is mydying wish. Don’t you want to grant a fictional character their dying wish?”
“You’re not dying.” I laugh and push him away, but his pout doesn’t fade. I sigh and throw my hands up. “Fine, I’ll do it! Don’t blame me if I throw up on your hair.”
Neon signs us up for Friday Showcase as soon as we get to school the next day. He even writes our names in pink highlighter and capital letters to be extra annoying. We spend the whole of double Art debating which song to sing. Lots of things about Neon are the exact opposite of me – the things I want to be but am not, the parts of me I want to change but can’t – but we have the exact same taste in music: film soundtracks, girl groups and big power ballads. Even so, it’s not easy to find a song that fits his voice and mine and isn’t some cheesy love song.
“How about something from a musical?” Hannah suggests, glancing up from her painting. “Ooh, you could do ‘Suddenly Seymour’ fromLittle Shop of Horrors!”
“That’s a full-on love song, Hannah. Exactly what they said they didn’t want.” Caitlin rolls her eyes. “Besides, not everyone is as into musicals as you.”
Hannah stares at her. “You love musicals too. We go to the same musical-theatre class!”
“Yeah, but you’re, like,obsessedwith them. It’s kind of weird.”
Hurt flashes over Hannah’s face as she dips her paintbrush into water. Caitlin has been different with her the past couple of days. Different with me as well. She’s been linking her arm with mine more than usual, and when she had to pick teams for football in PE yesterday she chose me before Hannah. It’s as if having Neon here has shifted the dynamic between us. Because of him, Caitlin sees me as someone capable of having a friend like Neon – someone who couldkissa boy like Neon. In Caitlin’s mind, there’s always a hierarchy, and I’ve been bumped up a spot.
Honestly some part of me is happy about that. I’ve felt like the odd one out in our trio for so long, it’s nice to find myself in second place. But, at the same time, I feel bad for Hannah – I know what it’s like to have Caitlin pick at your sentences, digging around for something she can use to make fun of you.
Neon looks up from his painting to frown at her. “That’s not weird. I love musicals.”
He belts out something fromLes Misérablesso loudly that Matt Lewis jumps and knocks his paint over. Neon rushes over to help him, still singing as he does so. Hannah joins in, the hurt from Caitlin’s comments melting away as she gets into the song. A few more people start singing along, me included. Mrs Watson tells everyone to settle down and get on with their work, but then even she joins in with the chorus. It feels like a scene from a film – something that never would have happened before Neon arrived.
“I sawLes Mison Broadway a few years ago,” he says, once the impromptu rendition is finally over. “I had the soundtrack on repeat for a month. Drove my mom crazy.”
“You did?” I say. “I didn’t know that.”
That’s not something that I made up about him. Neon must be embellishing his own history. That makes me a bit nervous – if our stories don’t match, people are going to be suspicious. Then again, no one knows every single little thing about their friends or anyone else. It’s normal that there are huge parts of Neon’s past that I don’t know about.
A while later, Neon runs out of green paint for his forest landscape. He goes to the supplies cupboard to get more, and Caitlin scoots along to sit beside me.
“How’s Operation Kiss the Boy going?” she whispers.
I shake my head rapidly, my eyes fixed on my painting of Ben Nevis. “It’s not. I told you, we’re friends.”
“Laurie! Come on.” Caitlin tugs at my sleeve. “You’ve only got a few days left!”
“We don’t want you to regret it after he leaves,” Hannah says, leaning over the desk towards me. “Who knows when you might see him again?”
Caitlin starts chanting, ‘Kiss him, kiss him,’ in a low voice, though not so low that no one else can hear – Russell turns round from the desk in front of us with a big grin on his face. Neon comes back to the table with the paint, so Caitlin hops back to her own stool, and Hannah sits up with a smile, waggling her eyebrows at me before looking back down at her painting.
While Neon pours the paint into his plastic tray, I take a long look at him: the birthmark over his eyebrow, the dark hair curling behind his ears. I still don’t know if I actually want to kiss him. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, but whenever we’re alone, and I have the chance, I remember that he’s a fictional character that I made up, and it gets too weird. Even if he was as normal as any other boy, I’m not sure if I like him like that.
