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Authors: Melissa Walker

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33 of CDs, and she has a few cases spread out in front of her. “Who’re you?”“I’m Quinn Parker,”I say, hoping my name means something to her. “I’m the summer intern.”She looks at me warily. “I’m the summer intern,”she says. Just then, a scruffy guy in corduroys and a white cotton undershirt comes through the front door. “Are the demos in order, Jade?”he asks, not looking at me. “Almost,”she says. “Good. Because I need to have them ready for—”Then he stops and glances over at me. “Who’re you?”he asks. It’s the question of the morning. I try to stand tall, like I belong here, but that’s getting more uncertain by the minute. “I’m Quinn Parker,”I say. “Um, is Rick around?”I invoke the only name that I have, the only evidence of my late-night-phone-call arrangement. “I’m Rick,”says Shaggy Man, who is defi nitely

34 too old to be my indie Supreme. He must be at least thirty. “Oh,”I start. “Well, I called a couple of weeks ago and set up this internship for the summer with someone, and he said I could start today and to ask for Rick so I’m just—”Ramble much? “Wait, wait—”Rick laughs and merci- fully interrupts me. “Did you call really late at night?”“Yes!”I say, dorkily hopeful. “That was me!”“Oh, man,”he says, sitting down atop one of the many cardboard boxes near Jade. “I thought that was my sister’s friend joking around.”He slaps his hand on his leg like something is so funny. “We really only need one intern,”Rick con- tinues. “We’re not a big operation here.”I look down at the blue carpet, not sure what to say. I should have called again. Who just shows up at an internship without any details? I was so excited to be offered the job, I guess I wanted to believe it would work out. If this internship falls through I don’t know what I’ll

35 do. I want to tell him that I’m a huge fan of all the bands on Amalgam. I start spontaneously imagining all the things I would do for this job: 1) I would go on coffee runs. 2) I would organize closets. 3) I would carry band gear—anything it takes. But I’m afraid that eagerly voicing my obsessive list might not be cool. So all I do is look at him. I can feel that my eyes are a little desperate. Jade is giving me an intense stare. I can feel that too. Rick looks around at the pile of packages around him. “Well, Mondays are pretty hectic,”he says, scratching his chin stubble. “Jade here can probably use a hand unpacking and organiz- ing. And there’s a big festival we’re working on for the beginning of August, so around then we might need more hands. Right, Jade?”I look down at Jade and smile. She shrugs. “Whatever,”she says. “Sweet,”says Rick, standing up to shake my hand. “Welcome to Amalgam, Quinn the late-night caller.”

36 “Thanks!”I say, allowing myself a huge beaming smile. “Just Mondays, now,”he says. “There’s only one intern desk, and Jade here’s been working on it for a while.”“No problem, sir,”I say. Oooh, sir? That word sounds so stupid out loud. He laughs and shakes his head as he walks by us to the back part of the offi ce. I notice Jade’s also shaking her head. But not laughing. She looks up at me with those gorgeously messy eyes. “Well, sit down and start unpacking!”she snaps. I join her on the fl oor and grab a pair of scis- sors to open up my fi rst box. I don’t care if she’s mad. I am offi cially offi cial. Well, on Mondays. Yes! Jade warms up to me slowly as I help her get everything in order. She tells me that she grew up in west Texas, and that her older brother’s band used to be on Amalgam, before they split up. She’d always wanted to check out Austin, so her brother helped her set up this internship and she’s staying in his apartment while he’s on

37 a solo tour for the summer. “I’ve already been here for a month,”she says. She explains to me that on Mondays, there are usually a bunch of packages—demos from wannabe Amalgam bands, inventory shipments that need to be cataloged for the music closet, and general inquiries from fans and managers. “It’s like the big mail day,”she says. “And I guess Rick’s right—I can use the help. On Mondays.”It’s very clear to me that I’m going to have to fi nd something else to occupy my time Tuesday through Friday this summer. We alphabetize Amalgam CDs, fi le fan let- ters in “To Read”folders on top of the desk, and make a stack of new artist demos. When we get to an advance copy of the Walters’new album, I jump up. “The Walters are my favorite band,”I say. “Uh, that’s cool,”says Jade, grabbing the CD from my hand. “This is top secret though, so . . .”“Oh, sure,”I say. “I mean, I wasn’t going to take it or anything.”Jade silently goes back to opening boxes.

38 “But do you think we could maybe listen to it?”I ask. I can’t help myself. “Calm down, fan-girl,”says Jade. “Maybe later we can ask Rick, okay?”“Okay,”I say. “I love opening all this stuff, by the way.”I really mean it. There are new bands to discover in every package, amazingly decorated fan letters, and mailings about every show in town. “It gets old,”she says. “You’re jaded,”I say. “No, I’m Jade,”she replies, making a seri- ous face. We both burst out laughing then, and the slight tension that’s remained between us seems cleared. “I’m from North Carolina,”I say, realizing that Jade hasn’t asked me a single question since we’ve been sitting here, but I’m ready to talk to her more now that the ice is broken. “Cool,”she says, not paying much attention. “Yeah, so I’m down here staying with my cousin Penny in her condo,”I say. “But I have to sleep on the couch because her cross-dressing dog has the second bedroom.”

39 “What?”asks Jade, suddenly interested. “Seriously!”I say. “Penny’s this huge soror- ity girl at UT with metallic Tri-Pi letters and a rush book and the requisite little white dog even!”Jade laughs. “Penny sounds like a total character,”she says. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it this summer,”I say, feeling slightly guilty about diss- ing Penny with the fi rst stranger I meet, but also relieved to have someone to talk to who might understand my objections. “You can hang out with me if you want,”says Jade nonchalantly. “I mean, I’m not from Austin, but I know the scene here. Amalgam people have to go to a lot of shows and stuff.”“Yeah, cool,”I say. Inside, I’m ecstatic. I think I just made my fi rst real friend here. “So do you have a boyfriend?”asks Jade as we walk outside to a taco stand at the edge of the parking lot to grab some lunch. “Nope,”I say, choosing a fi sh taco and a Coke while Jade gets a bean burrito. We sit down on the parking lot curb to eat,

40 and I decide to trust Jade a little more. “I actually really want to meet a guy here,”I say. “Ooh, yeah,”says Jade. “Summer fl ing.”I laugh. “I guess,”I say. “I just never really found my type of guy back in North Carolina, and I thought maybe Austin would be the per- fect place, since there’s such a great music scene and lots of smart band guys.”“There are also lots of frat boys,”says Jade. She takes a big bite of her burrito. “I’ve already met one of those,”I say, think- ing of Russ and his irksome personality. “They’re not all bad,”she says. “Just mostly.”I put my taco down as sauce drips on my arm. I grab a napkin and wipe it up, then I gaze across the parking lot. “I can picture him,”I say, probably sound- ing too wistful for my own good. “Your dream guy?”Jade asks, smirking. “Yeah,”I say. “I guess that sounds dumb.”I pick up my taco. “No, it doesn’t,”she says. “Do tell.”“Okay,”I say, carefully fi nishing my chew

41 before I lapse into the vision I have. “Dark hair and perfectly hip glasses—meaning either black frame classics or those larger, slightly tinted ones that Alpha girls think are nerdy but that I know are truly stylish.”Jade laughs encouragingly. “Go on,”she says. “He loves the Walters, of course, but he also knows a lot of other bands that he can intro- duce me to,”I say. “I really want to hear new stuff and fall in love with the music he worships. We can go to shows every night and make each other playlists, and choose one song that’s just ours, just for this summer, that we’ll both always remember.”“You are such a spaz!”says Jade, standing up and tossing out her burrito wrapper. I stand up too. “Oh, and he’s in a band,”I say, walking across the parking lot and back to Amalgam. “Or he’s a DJ. I could completely fall for an indie-rock DJ.”Jade’s face lights up. “What?”I ask as she holds open the door to the offi ce for me. “I’ve got someone you need to meet,”she

42 says mysteriously. “Don’t make plans for Friday night.”I try to press her for the rest of the day, but she won’t tell me who this “need to meet”person is . . . although she does tell me he’s a guy. At the end of the day, she fi nally caves a little. “His name is Sebastian,”she says. “And he is smoking hot.”That’s all I need to hear. I cannot wait for Friday.

43 Chapter 5 The rest of the week goes by really slowly. I realize that my assumption about Penny’s gro- cery shopping habits was only partially correct. She does indeed shop, but she buys only fruit and candy. It’s like this weird mix—apples, Sour Patch Kids, honeybell oranges, Sno-Caps, grapes, gummy bears, bananas . . . I may turn into a sugar-craving citrus animal if I don’t get some protein soon. I email Mom and Dad to tell them all about Amalgam and how much I’m going to learn about the “real world”this summer, leaving out the part about my internship being one day a week and my diet consisting of things that I’d eat if I were the love child of Willy Wonka and Chiquita Banana. I read a few guidebooks to Austin but realize that I have no way to get

44 anywhere I want to go without a car. Penny has to use the BMW for the rest of the week, and I’d feel sheepish borrowing it all the time anyway. Luckily, the condo’s just a few blocks from campus, and by Friday afternoon, I’ve fi gured out the easiest way to walk there. I’m ready to leave my air-conditioned sanctuary. I think. I load up my backpack with my iPod, a snack (a honeybell), a blanket, and two books on my personal summer-reading list. Oh, and a big-ass bottle of water. When I reach campus, my water’s almost gone. I fi nd a drinking fountain and refi ll my SIGG before I spread out on the fi rst big stretch of grass I fi nd. Under a tree. I can’t risk getting sun, and I’ve never been into tanning. Besides, did I mention it’s a thousand degrees outside? It is. There are lots of students around, but I’m sure the crowds are much bigger during the year. Summer is always the best season in a col- lege town, when the student population thins out a little. “Hey, hey, Priscilla!”I hear a deep twang behind me. I guess the population hasn’t thinned out enough.

45 “Russ,”I say, pulling out my headphones and tucking my iPod into my bag so he won’t see that I’m listening to the Walters. He sits down on the edge of my blanket by my outstretched feet. As if he’s welcome. I remember that Penny told me that Russ is on campus most days, fi nishing up some paper for a class, which he didn’t turn in on time last semester—he needs it to become a senior next year. “Haven’t seen you around this week,”he says. “You been working hard at Amalgam?”“Yeah,”I say. “It keeps me busy.”“So, are you riding the bus all the way to South Congress every day?”he asks, naming the street Amalgam is on. I wonder how much I should lie here. I look back at him. His smile widens and he swats my out- stretched foot, knocking off my fl ip-fl op. Then he laughs and lies down on his back in the grass at my feet, raising his arms to cross his hands behind his head. How often does he have to work out to get that kind of bicep defi nition? “I know you’re only there on Mondays,”

46 says Russ. “Penny told me.”“Well, I worked really hard on Monday,”I say defensively, chastising myself internally for even noticing his sculpted muscles. “And I’ve been busy the rest of the week.”“So busy you can’t even come next door to hang out?”he asks, leaning up on one arm and looking at me sideways. He tucks a blade of grass in his mouth and starts to chew on it. Like a cow. “I’ve had my own stuff going on,”I say. The truth is, “my own stuff”has been a lot of time online with my headphones on. When Penny goes out, she always invites me, but Chrissy and the Tri-Pis are not my people. Nor is Russ for that matter. I’ve been bonding with Miss Tiara though—she nuzzles next to me on the couch while I listen to music. And I have to agree with Penny: She does seem happiest in dresses. “Fair enough, Priscilla,”says Russ, lying back again with a maddening grin. “But I don’t think you want to spend all summer stuck in that apartment.”“What are you suggesting?”I ask. Because, well, I sort of agree with him.

47 “You must have some money saved up if you’re working a no-pay internship,”he says. “Why don’t I take you down to Albie’s to get yourself a beater.”“A what?”I ask. “A beater,”he says, still staring at the sky and chewing on that mutilated blade of grass. “A clunker of a car you can drive around for the summer and sell back to him in August when you leave.”I consider the idea. It’s not a bad one, and I do feel stuck at Penny’s condo. I have about two thousand dollars saved up for the summer from my movie theater job in North Carolina. I cannot explain what it takes to save two thou- sand dollars on minimum wage, but let’s just call it two years of popcorn shifts and very little new clothing. “I could probably spend like fi ve hundred dollars,”I say, calculating things in my head. “That’ll get you something nice at Albie’s,”he says, sitting up to face me. Then he starts explaining that Albie is this old guy who lives outside of town and has a lot full of eclectic cars.

48 In the mottled sunlight through the trees, Russ looks like an old movie star, someone out of a Western who belongs on a horse with a gun slung around his waist. But here he is, on my blanket in the shade. And when he’s not being obnoxious, he’s kind of . . . “You hungry?”he asks, interrupting my inappropriate daydream and fi nally spitting out that blade of grass. “Starving,”I say, feeling friendly toward Russ for the fi rst time. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just not my type, I remind myself. “I thought maybe the grape-and-grape- NERDS diet Penny lives on might not work for a girl like you who enjoys her tortilla-fried catfi sh,”he says, standing up and offering me his hand. I laugh. He remembered what I ordered last week. “Let’s go get some real food,”he says. After a huge burger that tastes like heaven, Russ asks me if I want to hang out tonight. The weird thing is, I don’t fully want to say no. But I have to.

49 “I’ve got plans,”I say. Tonight is the night I meet Sebastian the DJ. I’ve already made him my summer fl ing . . . in my own mind anyway. I even IMed with Raina about it last night, and she agreed that with a name like Sebastian, he has to be The Supreme. “That’s cool,”says Russ, yawning and stretching his arms over his head as we fi nish our walk back to the condo. “So I’ll come over tomorrow morning and we’ll go to Albie’s to car-shop. Remember to get out some cash tonight—he doesn’t take credit cards.”“Okay,”I say. “It’s a date,”he says, walking up to his door while I head to mine. “Well, it’s not a date,”I clarify. “Relax, Priscilla,”he says, smiling and shak- ing his head. “It’s just an expression.”I sigh audibly in frustration. Why can’t he just call me Quinn?! I slam the door and I can hear his loud, whooping laugh through the wall. I stomp up the stairs to take a long shower while Penny’s not here. As much as I hate to admit it, I enjoy the amount of product she has in her bathroom. I get to choose between four

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