“What song?” I asked.
“LCD Soundsystem. ‘All My Friends.’ I still go back to it sometimes, even now. When I’m tempted by something I shouldn’t do, I’ll listen to that song, and it reminds me of the life I don’t want anymore.”
I pursed my lips. “That’s a pretty powerful song.”
Pete stared into my eyes, like he was searching for something inside me. “A great DJ can do pretty powerful things.”
I stared back at him, willing myself not to look away.
“Elise,” he said, “do you want your own night here?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Your own night. Here, in this space. Char DJs Start on Thursdays, and he does a great job, but I want to expand. I want a Friday night party. The big time. It’d be all you. Whatever kind of music you want, however you want to set it up. Costumes, bands, decorations, your call. And you’d get paid, obviously. Ten percent of the bar ring, if that’s okay with you. We can negotiate it later. You can charge a cover at the door, if you’d rather make the money that way.”
“Wait.” I held up a hand. “That’s what you wanted to talk to me about?”
Pete nodded. “It’s a weekend night, so it’ll be more crowded than this. People will stay out later, too. I need to know if you can handle it.”
“But I’m just—” I began, then stopped myself before I finished with “a kid.” “I haven’t been doing this for very long,” I said instead. “I’m sure you could find someone with more experience…”
Pete took a swig of ginger ale. “If you’re saying that you’re sure I could find some thirty-six-year-old guy who’s spun ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ so many times that he’s able to play Tetris on his phone while he’s DJing, while chugging Red Bull so he can stay awake until four a.m., then yeah. I’m sure I could find that guy, too. But I don’t want that guy. I want someone with something to prove.
“Char probably told you that I first booked him to play Start when he was barely eighteen years old. This was back when Start was at the Harts Lofts, you know, before the police busted that place and we moved down here. Char was just a kid with a big mouth who really wanted to be cool. I remember thinking, I should kick this guy out, but I could tell that he genuinely loved the music. And he had talent. But, Elise, believe me when I tell you this: your talent, your natural talent, puts Char’s to shame.”
I shifted on my bar stool. “Char’s an amazing DJ.”
“I’m not denying that,” Pete said. “He wouldn’t be here if he weren’t. And it’s not a competition. But you have got the goods to be big. Really, really big. If you want this, then I know you can do it. So just tell me: do you want this?”
My body felt as if it were filled with electricity, and I started to smile. “Yes,” I said quietly, like I was signing a legal contract. “Yes! I want this. When can I start? Tomorrow?”
Pete chuckled. “Why don’t you give me a little time to promote it, get your name out there, so we can make sure people actually show up. We’re going to make a star of you. Let’s say two weeks from tomorrow. Ten p.m. Yes?”
“Yes,” I said to him. “Thank you so much. I can’t even tell you how much this means to me.”
Pete tipped his fedora to me. “Just make sure you do something powerful,” he said, “and that will be thanks enough.”
I almost floated away from the bar. I needed to share this with someone. I needed to tell Vicky right now. I needed to tell Char. Fortunately, I saw that Vicky was standing right next to the DJ booth. I ran across the dance floor toward them, kicking up my legs behind me … then slowed to a walk when I saw who was with them.
Pippa.
“You’re back!” I exclaimed. “How was Manchester?”
“What the bloody hell is your problem?” Pippa spat at me.
I took a step backward. I tried to catch Vicky’s or Char’s eyes, but they were both staring at the floor.
“I don’t…” I began, the electricity seeping straight out of my body.
“My mum makes me leave the country for all of a month and a half, and you think this is an opportunity to just jump right in there and start banging Char?”
Shit.
“Pippa, it wasn’t like that,” I tried.
“Oh, really? What was it like? Did you wait a whole week after I was gone? Come on, do you think I’m an idiot? If you were trying to keep your little romance a secret, maybe you shouldn’t have let Flash Tommy photograph it. We do have the Internet in England, you know.”
I saw Char wince.
“Pippa, honey,” Vicky said gently, “it wasn’t Elise’s fault.”
“Oh, so she just accidentally pulled Char one night? And what about you?” Pippa turned to Vicky. “You never mentioned this to me because you thought I wouldn’t care, or because you weren’t brave enough to tell me?” Her voice rose and her tiny hands clenched into fists as she stared down Vicky and Char. “I was gone for six weeks. You can’t both just replace me!”
“That’s not fair,” Vicky said in a low voice. “You’re my best friend, Pippa. I missed you every day.”
“Just tell me why you did it,” Pippa demanded of me, and I could see her long lashes fluttering as she blinked back tears. “Why did you have to steal him?”
Why did I do it? I didn’t know. I didn’t have a reason, really. Char kissed me, so I kissed him back. I hadn’t thought of it as stealing him from Pippa. He had told me he wasn’t interested in her. He didn’t want to be her boyfriend. How could I have stolen him if he was never hers?
“Do you love him?” Pippa asked, her voice pained.
I glanced over at Char. He was still studying the floor.
It was a ridiculous question. Did I love Char? Did I feel about Char the same way I felt about the Beatles, string instruments in pop songs, the way Little Anthony sang high notes, the way Jerry Lee Lewis played piano?
“No,” I said.
Pippa frowned. “So why, then?”
Because you were swept away by someone liking you.
I took a deep breath and tried to explain. “I didn’t know. I feel sometimes like … there are all these rules. Just to be a person. You know? You’re supposed to carry a shoulder bag, not a backpack. You’re supposed to wear headbands, or you’re not supposed to wear headbands. It’s okay to describe yourself as likable, but it’s not okay to describe yourself as eloquent. You can sit in the front of the school bus, but you can’t sit in the middle. You’re not supposed to be with a boy, even when he wants you to. I didn’t know that. There are so many rules, and they don’t make any sense, and I just can’t learn them all.”
“Well, here’s a simple rule for you, Elise,” Pippa snapped. “Don’t steal your friend’s man.”
And she turned on her heel and marched toward the bar.
Vicky ran to catch her. Char started after them.
“Char,” I said, catching his sleeve. “I have something to tell you.”
He pulled himself free and said, his voice clipped, “It’s not really a good time, Elise.”
“Oh.” Of course, he was right. Pete’s giving me a Friday night party seemed silly and irrelevant now. No one was interested.
I had a sudden flash of wondering just how Char was going to take that news. He would be proud of me. Wouldn’t he? Proud that he had taught me so well that Pete would trust me with this?
Yes, of course, Char would be proud.
But maybe I wasn’t so sure of that, because I let the subject drop.
“Can you take over the decks so I can deal with Pippa?” Char asked me.