After a painful loss, the last thing Katherine expects to do is fall in love.
*****
Katherine's life is a wreck. Not only has her best friend ditched her for yet another new boyfr...
"I'm sorry about that," said Marie, after her bandmates had left. "I know you didn't mean to upset them."
"I really liked the way you guys sounded. I thought it was great. I can't believe they thought I was insulting them. I just have a hard time talking about music, and you guys really don't sound like anything I've heard before."
"Oh. Well, originality's never a bad thing. Anyway, they'll get over it eventually," she said, "I'll tell them you really did like us. Hey, do you want to go listen to your mix tape in my room?"
I thought about going home. It wouldn't be too far to walk, though it was cold outside. I still had the cab card too, so I could be home pretty quickly. Eating dinner alone, reading and watching bad TV. There was cereal in the cupboard, though it was possible that that was the only edible thing left in the house. Froot Loops, and milk that was probably past its expiry date.
"Sure," I said, "lead the way."
Marie's room looked just like I'd expected it to; it was like a natural extension of her wardrobe and her personality thrown up on four small walls. She sat down on her bed and picked up what I assumed was my tape.
"See?" she said. "I was so close to getting it into my bag this morning. But then I started looking through one of my old yearbooks—it's kind of a bad habit I have when I'm trying to get out the door—and then by the time I looked at my watch again I was totally late, so I had to rush and then I just forgot to bring it with me. But anyway, here it is."
She handed me the tape's case and I turned it over in my hands. She'd made a collage cover and cut out tiny letters from a magazine to spell out Ms. Boatman's Wild Ride.
"Wow," I said, "this looks amazing."
"Do you get it?" she asked. "Like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride? You know, at Disneyland? I wasn't sure if it was too weird or obscure or something."
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I had no idea what she was talking about but didn't want to make her feel bad. "No," I said, "I got it." I opened the case and unfolded a track list for the tape with lyrics that Marie had written out by hand.
"Whoa," I said, "this must have taken forever."
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