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- Author: Melissa Walker
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136 Russ asks. “You seemed kind of upset when you came out on the deck earlier.”“Oh, nothing,”I say. “My friend Jade is having guy issues, so we were talking about that and then I just didn’t feel like staying out.”“So it was your friend having guy issues,”says Russ. “Not you.”“No,”I say defensively. “Not me. I’m into Sebastian. He’s cool and really smart and he knows a ton about music.”Russ curls his lip again. “But can he do the King?”he asks. I laugh. “What is it with you country boys and Elvis?”I ask. “The guy died decades before we were even born.”“It’s not like I’ve got a shrine to Graceland in my room,”says Russ. “But, you know, he was really infl uential on the stuff I listen to now—the same stuff you listen to now, too, by the way.”“He’s okay,”I say. “But he’s kinda country. I just don’t like that kind of music.”“Priscilla, are you gonna keep saying that kind of stupid thing all summer?”Russ asks. “I thought Austin would have opened your eyes a little by now.”
137 I look at him, and I realize that he’s being serious. He might even be a little bit annoyed with me. “I’m seeing a lot of local bands,”I say. “I mean, I’ve been going to shows with Jade and everything.”“I just hope you’re going to more than Dirty’s,”says Russ. “Not that it’s a bad venue, but you need to be getting all the fl avor here.”“I know what I like,”I say. “It’s a certain type of music and I’m just not into stuff like bluegrass and banjos.”“Music is music, Priscilla,”says Russ. “If you love music, you give it all a listen. You see what there is to learn in every song you hear. You take chances on shows. That’s part of it.”“You think that manufactured pop count- down stuff is music?”I ask. “Lots of your indie bands end up on those charts, let’s not forget,”says Russ. “I know,”I say bitterly. “And I hate that. I hate when annoying giggly girls know one song from a great band because it just hap- pened to be on a movie soundtrack or some- thing. They’re totally co-opting the music and
138 selling out the sound.”Russ laughs. “Do you hear yourself?”he asks. “You sound like a conspiracy theorist.”“It’s true!”I say. “I loved 201 Bunnies Named Earl way before anyone else, and then one of their songs shows up in a cell phone commercial and now it’s Penny’s ringtone.”“For a smart girl, you sure say a lot of idiotic things,”says Russ. “What did you say to me?”I ask. “It’s true,”he says. “Who cares about Penny’s ringtone? If she likes the music, she likes the music. You don’t own it. You can’t tell people what to like—you can’t control who likes the bands you like.”He shakes his head. “Are you gonna go to college with that small-minded attitude?”Then he stands up and turns his back to me. He starts cleaning the grill. “I am not small-minded!”I shout, which is all I can think of to say even though I want to say something better, more biting. I settle for standing up and marching down his stairs, then up mine. I get enough stomping in to communicate the fact that I feel insulted,
139 but Russ doesn’t look up from the grill. “Thanks for the food,”I say angrily, not understanding how Russ can take me from laughing and dancing to yelling and stomping in less then fi ve minutes. “I only wish the conver- sation had been as good as the burger!”I shout, grasping for some sort of dig. “You’re welcome, Priscilla,”Russ says calmly, not turning around. Ooh, he makes me mad! I slide open the glass door, and if it weren’t so heavy I’d have a mind to slam it, but I can’t, so I just shut it tightly and fl ip the lock loudly so I’m sure Russ hears it and feels unwelcome in the condo. And that goes for my thoughts, too!
140 Chapter 13 The next morning, I wake up at eight A.M. with- out earbuds in my ears. I fell asleep in silence for the first time in a while. I hate that I let Russ get to me like that, but he made me feel like I don’t know where I stand or what I like. I couldn’t pick an album for my frustrated mood. I check my phone and see a text from Sebastian that he sent around two A.M. “Where’d u go?”it asks. I text back, “Felt sick.”Then I put the phone back on the coffee table. I can’t deal right now. It’s really early, but I know I won’t be able to fall asleep again, so I walk into the kitchen to make myself a fruit bowl—the breakfast of choice around here. I consider going outside on the deck to eat, because it might not be too hot at this hour, but I don’t want to risk seeing
141 Russ. Miss Tiara pads downstairs, and I open the sliding door to let her out for a minute. Then I notice that there’s something leaning up against the glass. It’s a CD case . . . and a cas- sette tape too. I peek around outside as I bend over to pick them up—no one in sight. I bring the gifts to the table and sit down to look them over—they’re both a mix from Russ that he called “Indie + Country = Harmony.”He made a CD and
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