Encore to an Empty Room Read Free Page A

“I mean . . . wow.”
    I feel a surge of guilt. “Are you mad?” I ask.
    â€œNot at you . . .” He sips his already empty Coke.
    I quickly send Nellie an email.
    Hey, Nellie! We just saw the post. Thanks so much! Just curious, where did that graphic come from?
    â€œIt’s definitely attention-grabbing,” says Matt. He’s our youngest member and often the most optimistic of us.
    â€œAnd if you look real close I think you can sort of make out your left eye,” says Jon, our lead guitarist and resident master of sarcasm.
    â€œBastards,” says Val. Bassist and surliest.
    My phone buzzes with Nellie’s reply.
    Hey, Summer, so glad you like it! Yes, we changed the header. I know we had that shot of the band, but my editor thought this graphic would get way more clicks. And clicks are king, right?
    I’m torn about how to reply. I know what I really want to say, that this image totally undermines the idea of making the story more about Caleb, and yet it’s already out there, and we can’t exactly afford to tick off a blog like T&J . . .
    Gotta love clicks! Thanks again, Nellie!
    Our food arrives and everybody starts eating quietly. A couple bites of salt, ketchup, and jalapeños renew my strength and I tap the table. “Look, this sucks, but at least the article is good. And things like this are just all the more reason why . . .”
    Caleb meets my gaze and lowers his voice. “We need to find the other songs.”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œIt’s the only way we’re ever going to really have our say,” Val agrees.
    â€œAnd know the real him,” says Caleb.
    â€œRight. Until we do,” I say, “there are always going to be editors like this who are going to screw things up.”
    â€œAnd don’t forget the part where we play the songs and get world famous,” adds Matt. “I still have no problem with that.”
    We all check in with each other, a table of conspirators. I notice that Jon is the only one who hasn’t joined in. He’s still looking at the article, but then he feels our gaze on him and looks up. “The Eli White All-Stars!” he says in an overly enthusiastic radio DJ’s voice. Then he makes the devil horns and rolls his eyes. He’s joking . . . I think. Of everyone, Jon has been the least comfortable with how every other conversation about Dangerheart now also includes Eli White. But he’s on board enough, I feel sure of that.
    â€œAll that’s great . . . ,” says Val. “But what’s the point of this meeting? It’s been two months and we haven’t founda single clue about where Eli might have hidden his next song. I mean, we still have to consider that the two tapes we found in LA and San Fran were it.”
    â€œI know.” I hate hearing this because I’ve thought the same thing. All of us have. But as long as there’s still a chance of finding the lost songs from Into the Ever & After , I feel like we have to try. “There might be clues we missed,” I say. “And the internet is too spotty from 1998. That’s why we have to talk to people who were there. Plus, remember what Eli said: More from the next show. ”
    â€œDo we still think that’s Minneapolis?” Matt asks.
    â€œMakes sense,” I say. “If we could get a solid lead, we could try to book a gig there and go check it out.”
    â€œYeah,” says Caleb, “but it would definitely be easier if we’d found any more clues since then.”
    â€œI know.” He’s right. We need something, anything to go on. We can’t just skip off to Minneapolis, or New York, the last two shows Allegiance played before Eli left the band, without a pretty solid lead, for all the reasons that have to do with still being in high school and having parents and everything.
    Also, the rest of life has been keeping us pretty busy. Dangerheart has played a