Drumbeats into My Heart

10. Jordi Avoids a Topic

Another day, another performance. Dad was careful this morning not to mention Mom again. The painful hole she's left behind is so gaping and raw, I don't know if I'll ever get over it. But thank goodness I have Dad, and he has me. If anyone is going to understand the sorrow that sits on my chest like an overfed ogre, it'll be him.

But dwelling on misery is no way to live. That's what Mom would say. We have to keep moving forward, living our lives. I'm not so sure I'm moving forward, but the least I can do is live my life. Or at least go through the motions of it.

I arrange the metal pots in a carefully chosen spot. It has to be close enough to the market that people will see and hear me, but far enough away that I won't be impeding foot traffic.

The sound of someone clearing his throat behind me makes me turn around. I can't stop the smile that leaps onto my face. It's Seth! I mean, I shouldn't be surprised. The guy has shown up for two performances in a row, barely concealing his puppy-like adoration. If he didn't seem so awkward, honest, and sweet at the same time, I really would worry he was a serial killer stalking his next victim.

I push back a lock of hair and squint against the sun. "Hi, Seth!"

He fidgets next to his mountain bike. "Um, hi." It takes him a few tries before he's able to toe the kickstand out and lean his bike on it. The floundering continues as he stuffs his hands in his pockets and barely makes eye contact. It's kind of cute, but why is he even more unsure of himself than usual?

I stand, dusting my skirt. "I'm glad you made it. Again."

That earns me a hesitant smile, and a little of his tension seems to ease. "It's the thing to do if I want to be a proper stalker."

I laugh, and his smile becomes genuine, reaching his eyes this time.

"What are you listening to today?" I point to the earbuds in his hand.

He glances at them, a pleased expression flickering briefly across his face. "Ferry Corsten. Another DJ."

I tilt my head, intrigued. "Someone named their kid Fairy?"

He chuckles and shows me the display on his phone. "Ferry, like a ferry boat."

I peer at it. "Oh. Okay, that's better. I imagine that would still get you clobbered in school, though."

"So true," he says, sounding like he knows all about what it's like to be bullied. "Did you get made fun of in school? For your name?"

"For my name? No," I chuckle. "Most kids are not nerdy enough to know Mr. La Forge."

He grins and nods knowingly. "So you're a fellow nerd, huh?"

I look away, alarmed at the scholastic turn in the conversation. "Not exactly." Change the subject, now. But how?

"That's a good thing." His eyes are earnest when I peek up at him. "You're definitely too cool to be nerdy."

I chuckle again, but can hear a nervous edge to it. "I'm not cool."

"I beg to differ. You are way cool. You're probably the popular girl in school. Smart and talented."

I guess one out of two isn't bad. "Thanks." I turn to pull buckets out of my trailer bin.

He takes them from me. "Do you go to Lincoln? That's where I go." He sets the buckets down next to the pots.

"I did." I wince at the accidental past tense and glance to see if he noticed. He seems oblivious as he rotates the stack. "I mean, yeah," I amend.

He faces me again. "Really? How come I've never seen you?"

I shrug. "It's a big school. Plus, we didn't know each other before." And you were probably in honors classes while I floundered around in remedial.

"True." He nods. "We probably could have looked right at each other and not even noticed. Though I find it hard to believe that I wouldn't notice you." He seems a bit embarrassed by what he's said and clears his throat.

As cute as he's being, he's venturing too far into dangerous territory. Time to change the subject. "So tell me about this Ferry guy."

He settles on the grass beside me and we chat about music while I finish setting up. He listens to one set before standing up. "Unfortunately, I have to go to work." He checks his watch. "I've got ten minutes. Wish I could stay longer."

"Where do you work?"

"At the school. I'm in the tutoring center during summer session."

Of course he was. "Cool. Well, I'll see you around."

He stares at me intently for a moment, mouth parted, as if considering what to say.

I wait for a moment, but nothing comes out of his mouth. What is he trying to say?

"Yes?" I prompt.

That seems to snap him out of it. "Um, nothing. Bye." He nudges the kickstand up on his bike and pedals away, twisting around once to wave goodbye.

I'm intensely curious about what was on his mind, but it's too late to ask now. Whatever it was made him cut and run like a retreating soldier. Shame. I had thought about asking him out at some point, but that was before learning he was some kind of super-student. I can't date someone who's going to look down his nose at me once he finds out how dumb I am. It's safer to just stay friends.

I sigh. Too bad, because I really like him.

Better to be alone than to be judged, I guess. Well, I say better to vote than to judge!