ahead.”
She took a deep breath. “River is really popular. And, well, we’ve been having some issues lately, so… I’d just like to know how he acts when I’m not around.” She covered her face with her hands. “Gosh, I’m such a horrible person.”
“That’s not horrible. It’s natural. I think.” What did I know? I’d never had a boyfriend.
“I feel so sneaky asking you to spy on him. It’s just so many girls throw themselves at him, even my friends. I’m scared to leave him alone for so long, but I have no choice.”
Why was she with him if she didn’t trust him? She’d probably already asked herself that, and spying was a way to determine if she could. “We’re only in two classes together, so I don’t really see him that much.”
She leaned in, bumping her shoulder against mine. “Something about you left an impression on his soul.”
My heartbeat sped up. “You know about that?”
“Tiffany showed me the video, and River played me the song he’s working on about you. If you inspire him musically, which you did, he won’t leave you alone.”
I couldn’t believe she was being so nonchalant about her boyfriend writing a song for another girl. I had a lot to learn about the dating world. “What was the song about?”
“It was haunting and sad. About death and how it brings strangers together. He feels a real connection with you. He gets all artsy and deep like that. He’s written dozens of songs for me.”
I realized—feeling stupid—that April wasn’t threatened by me because I could never be a threat. Hot, popular guys would never be romantically interested in someone like me.
River’s voice came through the microphone. “Thanks for coming out tonight. We’re the Rebel Junkies. I’m River Malone, and I’d like to dedicate this set to two captivating chicks in the audience. You know who you are.” He looked back at his drummer, and after three clicks of the drumsticks, the band burst into its first song.
April yelled into my ear. “I’m glad you came! We’re going to be lifelong friends. I just know it.” She jumped up and started dancing—if you could call it that.
I smiled, watching her thrash around to the screechy music. I’d never expect someone like her to love such loud, awful noise. She obviously loved River very much.
People gathered in front of me, blocking my view of the stage, so I looked up at the stars. One shot across the sky then dissolved into darkness. For the first time since my nightmare night, I closed my eyes and made a wish.
I wish to find my true love, and for us to last forever .
WHEN SOULS COLLIDE
Maryah
Over the next month, April’s prediction came true. River and I became friends—or the closest thing I could be with the most popular guy in school. He even walked me to classes sometimes. He’d slip me notes asking me what I thought about his new song lyrics. No matter how many times he acknowledged me, it continued to astonish me.
River shot me an irritated glance during music class. He thought our teacher hated him because he was doing what Mr. Milton could only dream about—sing in a band. River made lots of snide remarks like that, but I never took him seriously. No one could be as full of himself as River pretended to be.
Mr. Milton had been giving lessons on the “musical greats.” He started a few weeks ago with music from the 1890s and early 1900s. My favorite week of lessons was the 1920s to the 1950s. Each song Mr. Milton played for the class made me think of my parents dancing around our living room.
Music during that time had so much dignity and soul. There wasn’t a bunch of obscene language, or lyrics about murder, sex, or how cool it was to be a criminal. It wasn’t that I’d been dropped off on the wrong planet—which is how I felt most of the time. I’d been born in the wrong era. If I had my way, I’d have been born in the 1920s. That way I could see the greats like Louie Armstrong and Ella
She took a deep breath. “River is really popular. And, well, we’ve been having some issues lately, so… I’d just like to know how he acts when I’m not around.” She covered her face with her hands. “Gosh, I’m such a horrible person.”
“That’s not horrible. It’s natural. I think.” What did I know? I’d never had a boyfriend.
“I feel so sneaky asking you to spy on him. It’s just so many girls throw themselves at him, even my friends. I’m scared to leave him alone for so long, but I have no choice.”
Why was she with him if she didn’t trust him? She’d probably already asked herself that, and spying was a way to determine if she could. “We’re only in two classes together, so I don’t really see him that much.”
She leaned in, bumping her shoulder against mine. “Something about you left an impression on his soul.”
My heartbeat sped up. “You know about that?”
“Tiffany showed me the video, and River played me the song he’s working on about you. If you inspire him musically, which you did, he won’t leave you alone.”
I couldn’t believe she was being so nonchalant about her boyfriend writing a song for another girl. I had a lot to learn about the dating world. “What was the song about?”
“It was haunting and sad. About death and how it brings strangers together. He feels a real connection with you. He gets all artsy and deep like that. He’s written dozens of songs for me.”
I realized—feeling stupid—that April wasn’t threatened by me because I could never be a threat. Hot, popular guys would never be romantically interested in someone like me.
River’s voice came through the microphone. “Thanks for coming out tonight. We’re the Rebel Junkies. I’m River Malone, and I’d like to dedicate this set to two captivating chicks in the audience. You know who you are.” He looked back at his drummer, and after three clicks of the drumsticks, the band burst into its first song.
April yelled into my ear. “I’m glad you came! We’re going to be lifelong friends. I just know it.” She jumped up and started dancing—if you could call it that.
I smiled, watching her thrash around to the screechy music. I’d never expect someone like her to love such loud, awful noise. She obviously loved River very much.
People gathered in front of me, blocking my view of the stage, so I looked up at the stars. One shot across the sky then dissolved into darkness. For the first time since my nightmare night, I closed my eyes and made a wish.
I wish to find my true love, and for us to last forever .
WHEN SOULS COLLIDE
Maryah
Over the next month, April’s prediction came true. River and I became friends—or the closest thing I could be with the most popular guy in school. He even walked me to classes sometimes. He’d slip me notes asking me what I thought about his new song lyrics. No matter how many times he acknowledged me, it continued to astonish me.
River shot me an irritated glance during music class. He thought our teacher hated him because he was doing what Mr. Milton could only dream about—sing in a band. River made lots of snide remarks like that, but I never took him seriously. No one could be as full of himself as River pretended to be.
Mr. Milton had been giving lessons on the “musical greats.” He started a few weeks ago with music from the 1890s and early 1900s. My favorite week of lessons was the 1920s to the 1950s. Each song Mr. Milton played for the class made me think of my parents dancing around our living room.
Music during that time had so much dignity and soul. There wasn’t a bunch of obscene language, or lyrics about murder, sex, or how cool it was to be a criminal. It wasn’t that I’d been dropped off on the wrong planet—which is how I felt most of the time. I’d been born in the wrong era. If I had my way, I’d have been born in the 1920s. That way I could see the greats like Louie Armstrong and Ella
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