“Tell me about it.” I could hear her frantically typing on the other end. “What do your friends think about the song?”
“Well, there’s a lot of ‘Audrey, Wait!’ being screamed in the hallways, and it seems like now everyone wants to be my friend, but that’s about it.” Then I thought about Chris Collins. “This one guy I know said that his brother heard it at his school in New Jersey. That was weird.”
“Oh, it’s all over the radio in London, too.”
“You mean like the English London?”
“The one and only. They’ve released it in Europe, and according to the label, the U.S. is next. They’re really giving it the full-court press.”
My throat suddenly felt sort of tight. “Really? Wow. Fantastic.”
“What’s fantastic? Tell me!” Victoria whispered away from the phone, but I waved at her to shut up.
“Any plusses to the attention?”
“Uh, all the sex?” We both laughed and I forced myself to unclench my hands. “Not really, it’s just a song about me, that’s all.” And even as I said the words, I started to believe them. I mean, I really did. “They were just words written by someone who didn’t know me anymore. Maybe he never did, I dunno.” I reached over so I could refill Bendomolena’s water bowl. “I broke up with him and I hurt him and I guess he wants to do the same thing to me.”
Seriously, Isabella must have been the world’s fastest typist. “Any plans to release a song of your own?”
“Um, not right now!” I laughed. “I don’t think that’s ever gonna happen. I only sing along to the radio.”
“And what do you think about music right now? Are you listening to local bands besides the Do-Gooders?”
“God, I’ll listen to anything. I love music, it’s like…” I sighed and put the water dish back down. “I mean, sometimes it’s like the only thing that matters. Sometimes when I hear a great song, it means more than anything, like even my family or friends or anyone.” Next to me, Victoria made a face that clearly said, “Not more than me, your very best friend in the world.”
“Is that how it felt when you heard ‘Audrey, Wait!’ for the first time?”
Just then, the garage door opened up and my mom came struggling in through the door with groceries and cat litter. “Help…me…” she said, trying to keep the door from slamming behind her. “I’m too young to break a hip.”
“Look, I have to go,” I told Isabella. “Good luck with everything, all right? I hope it turns out okay.”
“That’s fine, I think I’ve got everything I need. Thanks for your time!”
We hung up and I ran to take the kitty litter from my mom while Victoria grabbed a bag of paper towels. “Thanks,” she sighed. “Who was that?”
“Um, just someone from the newspaper,” I said. In the grand scheme of house rules, I wasn’t sure if talking to a reporter was a violation, so I decided to selectively edit.
“We canceled our subscription months ago!” my mom cried. “What, are they offering us another deal?”
“I dunno, I hung up.”
She set down the groceries and pulled a bag of oranges out of the top. “For our still-life class,” she said, her eyes shining.
An explanation: A couple of months ago, after the whole Evan breakup, my mom decided that we needed to spend more time together. I was all up for shopping and eating pasta lunches by the beach, but in her words, “Let’s broaden our horizons, why don’t we?”
So we signed up for tae kwon do classes, but that was doomed from the start. Partly because my mom, while not a pushover, is also not the violent type and apologized every time she hit someone or something. Wham! “Sorry!” Pow! “Sorry!” A superhero she is not. The other reason it was doomed was that whenever I’m supposed to be really serious about something, I get the giggles and can’t stop. Seriously, it’s embarrassing, but I can’t help it. By the fourth class, I was practically turning purple and our teacher kept barking out orders until I finally lost it and doubled over with laughter while my mom alternately beat up the practice dummy and apologized to him.
“So,” she said in the car afterwards. “How do you feel about watercolors?”
I looked at the oranges. “They’re very orange-y, Mom.”
“That’s the best you can give me? Orange-y?”
“Orange-y like a brilliant sunset.” I kissed her cheek and then one of the oranges for good measure. “See, I love them already. They’re adorable. I gotta go. It’s been fun and all that, but I’m late.”
“And she’s taking me home,” Victoria said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and taking an orange from the counter. “It’ll help prevent scurvy,” she explained. “It’s been going around school.”
My mom just grinned. Victoria can do no wrong in her mind. “Do you think you can remember the ice cream this time?”
“Already etched onto my brain,” I told her. “I’ll put it in the car at the start of my shift so I don’t forget, how’s that?”
“Ha ha, funnypants.” She smiled and gave me a squeeze goodbye. “Is your shirt dirty?”
“I can’t hear you—I’m too busy remembering ice cream!” I grabbed my bag and car keys at the same time.