Page 52 of Vespertine
Everyone tittered and dark smiles broke out over the facesof everyone in the group. Nicky glanced around and was glad to see Mrs. Wellshad left them to it. Huh. Maybe she didn’t think he was going to fuck up thesefragile little minds too much after all.
“Yeah, she was a bitch. Fuck her,” Gus muttered.
“Nope. None of that. You’ll get me in trouble with FatherJazz and he won’t let me come back here anymore.”
“Father Jazz? Do you mean Father Hendricks?”
Oops?Ah, well. “Yep. He’s not bigon swearing. But when we were kids…” Nicky made a face. “Well, I guess he wasn’tbig on it then, either. He’s always been kind of uptight and perfect. Annoying.”
Some of the teenagers laughed.
“You knew him when you were both kids?”
Nicky nodded. “Yep. All the way through high school. Mrs.Wells was our teacher.” He leaned forward and whispered, “She hated me.”
Gus shook his head. “Mrs. Wells is nice. She doesn’t hateanyone.”
Nicky shrugged. Maybe she’d turned over a new leaf or maybehe had just been special.
“Hey, I have a question,” a tall red-headed freckled girlsaid from where she stood with her arms crossed and her feet planted wide. “Wereyou boyfriends?”
Nicky laughed, throwing his head back. “You guys are worsethan the paparazzi. ‘Nico Blue, Nico Blue! Are you dating the guy you boughtgroceries from last week?’”
They all giggled and blushed.
“So, are we going to play the game or not?” Jason asked,sullen as ever, but apparently ready to hear Nicky play anything at all.
“Superbass,” someone called out.
“By Nicki Minaj?” Nicky asked with a sharp grin.
“Yeah.” It was obvious the teenager who’d picked the songthought he would stump him, and he seemed disappointed that he knew the artist.
“Okay.” He thought for a moment and then picked out openingnotes. Everyone looked skeptical until he opened his mouth and the staccato raplyrics came spilling out. Nicky grinned as they broke into applause. Vespertinehad a roadie on the last tour who was obsessed with Nicki Minaj and Nicky’dheard the song plenty of times, apparently enough to know every last lyric andnot require any help from the gobsmacked kids who gathered even closer tolisten.
“Something’s Gotta Give!”
“Hmm, refresh my memory. I might not have heard it.”
“You know, by All Time Low.” The scruffy teenager waswearing an old-skool Pretty Hate Machine tour T-shirt and sang some of thechorus in a scratchy baritone. Nicky recognized it and started strumming along,nodding his head, and he joined in when the kid began the next verse. They sangthe entire song together, and Nicky hit the final vocal note with a grin on hisface.
“Pink Bullets,” a soft voice murmured when the clapping haddied down.
“Oh, The Shins.” He swallowed back a comment about wankermusic because Gus wouldn’t understand how much he identified with that soundlately. “All right.”
A calmness descended during the quiet song, and he closedhis eyes, letting memories fill his mind of young Jazz in the sunshine, playingin the woods together and rowing across the lake with supplies for their fort.The nostalgic ache infused his competent-but-not-special voice.
After playing another thirty minutes worth of songs, Nickycaught the eye of the black girl who’d been sitting beside Jason when he camein. She was wearing a hoodie, and she messed with the drawstring as her darkeyes followed his fingers on the fretboard. Her lower lip slipped between herteeth. He studied the certain angularity of her face and the prominence of herAdam’s apple, which told him testosterone was already working against her trueidentity.
“How about you?” he asked her after the next round ofclapping was over. “Do you have a song you’d like me to play?”
She shrugged anxiously. Everyone had turned to look at herand she was clearly unnerved by the attention.
“C’mon, Lizzie. Give him a good one,” Jason said. “Somethingby Liver Pills.”
She made a face at him. “As if, Jason.”
“How about naming a band that you like, Lizzie?” Nickyinterrupted when it looked like Jason would argue. “Any band but Vespertine.”
