“You’reLinChu-Qing初晴?”Hisvoicewasalittlehoarse.Hewentstraightforthethroat—noapology,nopoliteness.“Theoneinchargeofteagbasstotheeleventhgraders?”
Therehearsalroomfelldeadsilent.OnlytheoldAithummed.Allsixgirlsstaredattheintruderasthetemperatureintheroomdroppedtoice.
Cratippedherupslightlytolookathim.Upclose,shecouldsmellthefaionhim,andsomethingsun-warmed—anoutdoorsstthatdidn’tbelonginthisdamp,shadowybasement.
Hergazeflickedtothecableinhishand.Behindherrimlessgsses,hereyesturnedcoldwithanger.
Shedidn’tanswerhisquestion.
Sheonlyheldoutherhand,voiitwasalmostft.
“Plugitba.”
Heseemedpletelyunfazedbyherexpressioossedthecablebatotheamp,thenpulledaflyerfromhispocket—crumpledfrombeingshovedaround—andsppeditontothenearbymusid.
“Twomonthsfromnow.NationalHighSchoolRockMusipetition.FinalsareinTainan.”Hiswordscamefast,urgent,edgedressurethatdidn’tallowrefusal.“Ourbassistbrokehishaerdaypyingbasketball.He’llbeinacastatleastthreemonths.He’tgetonstage.”
HestaredstraightintoCra’seyesbehindthelenses,inhaledonce—likehewasabouttomakeadecration.
“Everyoschoolknowsyou’rethestrobassistihgrade.Iwantyoutoesaveourband.Fillinforhimaonstage.”
Tainan?Twomonthsfromnow?
Cra’seyesswepttheflyer—*NationalPopurMusipetition*printedacrossit—andinthesameinstant,herairtightschedulefshedthroughhermind:MondayandWednesdaynightsinXimendingfightingEnglishary,FridaynightsphysianyangStreet,SaturdaysandSundaystrappedinmathaeraturehell,andMrs.Lin’ssharpeyesthatoppedtraghergrades.
Ifour-tatamiroom,justsqueezingmealmoneyandrehearsal-roomfeesoutofathinweeklyallowanceoffivehundreddolrsalreadyusedupeverystchipshehadfotiatingwithreality.
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