Page 39 of My Rock Star Neighbor
“My mom was doing the best she could, and she managed to support us all on her own,” I say.“But boy, did she hate when I joined a band in middle school, because she was worried that I would pursue a futile dream of being a rock star like my dad and not take academics seriously.And all I wanted to talk about was the band—which didn’t reassure her.It was absolutely a topic I learned not to bring up.It would put her in a terrible mood.”
“That must have been hard not to talk about what you’re passionate about,” Maddie says.
“At least since she often worked late, I had free rein to practice at home,” I say.
“The neighbors didn’t complain?”Maddie asks with a mischievous glance at me.
“They did.”I grin back at her.“But I learned to practice before they got home from work.That still gave me plenty of time.I’ve tried to do that for you too.I try to practice during the day when you’re not there.I’m sorry I practiced past eleven.”
“I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time,” Maddie says.
We share a look of mutual contrition and acceptance.
We pass by the stores with signs in English and Chinese as we amble farther into Chinatown.As we wait for the light to change, someone exits the bar behind us, and the jazz music from inside reverberates through the quiet night air.
Most of the stores are closed at this hour, bright graffiti decorating the aluminum fronts covering the front entrances.One market with fried chickens hanging on hooks in the window beckons passersby inside with the offer of a warm meal.
“Do we need a code word for these bullies?”I ask.“So I know to be rude to them if they approach?”
Maddie smiles at me.“You can’t be rude to them.That might harm your public persona.It’s okay.I can handle it.But I’m touched you offered.”
“I’ll tell Luca to be rude to them,” I say.“The code phrase should be ‘Have you seen Riley?’because of that article you wrote last year.”
“Luca’s not going to come, is he?”
“Of course he is.”
“But I just met him.”
“He liked you,” I say.Even if he did try to be my wingman.
We both detour slightly to pay our respects to the tiny lion sculpture that guards Lions Gate Field, Maddie patting his head.The clouds are low enough in the sky that the bare brown branches of the trees look like they have been tufted with cotton balls.My hand brushes against her hand once—one feathery touch.I could suggest we hold hands.No.I need to proceed slowly.
Her brow is already furrowed, like she’s thinking about her story and her spreadsheet.She glances at me, and I smile at her.
It’s so easy with Maddie.I can’t quite believe I’m sharing all these details, but I trust her.She won’t betray me.
Chapter eleven
Maddie
IrunintoNemesisas I exitThe Intelligencerbuilding on my way to interview the deputy commissioners.Their building is around the corner on Broadway.I move to pass her, but the sidewalk space is narrow here because of the scaffolding.
She stops me and asks, “Where are you going?”
“I’m interviewing the deputy commissioners for myMeet the City Agenciesseries idea.”
“Everyone will be buying copies to read that,” she says sarcastically.“You must have some other angle.”
“Looking to poach my idea again?”
“I didn’t poach it,” she says.
“What do you call following me to discover my source and then beating me to the interview because I had a sprained ankle last year?”I ask.
“Ideas don’t have a copyright,” she says.
“No,” I say, wishing I had some snappy comeback.“But it helps to have your own.”
