Less Than Nothing by R.E. Blake Page A

swelling with joy at the question, but play it cool. “I could eat.”
    “What are you in the mood for?”
    I shrug. “Whatever you want.”
    “I know a little Mediterranean place off Van Ness.”
    That’s bus-ride territory again. I weigh the implications and decide to just go with it.
    “That sounds great.”
    The restaurant turns out to be Greek, and we order grape leaves and lemon soup with chicken. The meal comes, and we plow into it, making small talk as we eat. Dusk’s gray light dims as we watch the world go by. When we’re finished and the waiter busses our plates, I study his face, angular in the artificial restaurant light, and ask the question that’s been burning in my stomach since last night. I feel like I’m diving into the deep end of a pool, but I have to know the answer.
    “Where are you going, Derek?”
    He smiles and shrugs it off. “Most people that know me would say: nowhere, fast.”
    “You know what I mean. You’re leaving. What’s that about?”
    He fixes me with one of his high-intensity stares, and I feel like I’m gazing directly at a supernova. I can see him trying to figure out how to dissemble and avoid the question, but he seems to be able to tell I’m not going to let go of it until I get an answer.
    His sigh is one of surrender. He leans back in his seat and studies me, and I feel his eyes on me like a physical presence.
    “I’m going to New York.”
    I blink. Once. Twice.
    “New York,” I repeat.
    “Yeah. I have to be there in two weeks, and I want to allow enough time to hitch rides.”
    “You’re planning to hitchhike across the U.S.?”
    “Well, if we keep earning like we did today, maybe I’ll rent a jet, but barring that, yeah, that’s my plan.”
    I try not to show how confused I feel.
    “Why New York? And why two weeks?” I knew it. He has a girlfriend. He’s probably realized she’s his soul mate and has decided to tie the knot. I wonder silently if I can just swallow my tongue and get it over with.
    He stares at his Elvis tattoo as though it holds an answer. When he speaks, his voice is quiet.
    “Promise you won’t laugh.”
    “Do I seem like I’m going to?” I try not to glare. She was probably his high school sweetheart before he dropped out, and moved back east to be with her family once he disappeared. And of course she’s gorgeous. And rich. And a frigging nymphomaniac for him. I feel sick.
    “Have you ever heard of America’s Top Talent ?”
    The words don’t make any sense to me. “What?”
    “Yeah, you don’t strike me as a big TV watcher.”
    “They don’t have a lot of big screens in the park.”
    “It’s the hottest talent show in the country. For singers.”
    “A talent show,” I repeat numbly.
    He nods. He’s looking at me with a strange expression. I realize I’ve torn the paper napkin in my hands into small pieces thinking about his imaginary girlfriend in New York.
    “They had auditions in Los Angeles and Dallas, but I couldn’t get to them – I was totally broke. New York’s the last open-call auditions. And I intend to enter and win the contest.”
    “What do you win?”
    “Money, for one thing. Like, five hundred grand. But more importantly, a recording contract.”
    “Five hundred thousand dollars? That’s…insane.” I try to imagine five hundred thousand dollars worth of quarters stacked to the sky. It would be a really, really tall stack.
    “Yeah, and with a record deal, that could be just the start,” he says quietly.
    It all falls into place. He wants to be the next Elvis. Derek…Derek…I realize I have no idea what his last name is. I’ve spent the night with him, and I don’t even know who he is.
    “Wow. That’s a big step.” I don’t want to ask the obvious follow-up question, but my impulse control switch is broken in the off position. “What if you don’t make it?”
    His jaw muscles clench, but his gaze remains steady. “I will.”
    I believe him. He radiates enough determination