Play Me, I'm Yours [Library Edition] Read Free Page A

about?”
    Music. That’s what had brought them together in the first place. It was a start anyway.
    “Wish me luck, Ted,” Lucas said on his way out.
     
     
    A S HE pulled his Honda Civic into a space at the far side of the lot, Lucas glanced at the dashboard clock. He was ten minutes early. He didn’t know what kind of car Chris drove, if he drove at all. There was no way to tell if Chris was already here. Why hadn’t Lucas asked him for his phone number? Lucas wondered if he should wait a few minutes before going inside. If he waited in the car, someone might see him sitting here. That would be awkward. If he went in now and Chris wasn’t there, he’d be standing around. That would be even more awkward. At least in the car he could pretend to be using his phone or listening to the radio. He decided to stay put, using the last few minutes to run through possible topics of conversation one more time: music, movies, books (though he doubted Chris was an avid reader), vacation plans, and if the situation became desperate, he’d stumble through sports talk.
    At seven on the dot, he pushed his way through the noisy entrance of Bay Burgers. His stomach growled in response to the smell of hamburgers sizzling on the grill. The jukebox played “Hungry Like the Wolf” by Duran Duran, a song he recognized from childhood. He was familiar with a lot of ’80s music. His mom used to buy sheet music of her favorite albums for Lucas to play.
    The restaurant was crowded. It was a popular hangout since it flanked the arcade. Bay’s had open seating, with booths lining the perimeter and tables filling the interior of three separate dining areas. Customers seated themselves, then placed their order at the main counter when ready.
    Chris wasn’t waiting at the entrance, so Lucas walked around to see if he was sitting at a table. As Lucas meandered through the dining rooms, he spotted familiar faces. He tried to avoid eye contact, afraid of drawing attention to himself. He hated being recognized in public, especially by kids from school. The last thing he wanted was for Chris to overhear someone taunting him. Chris was nowhere in sight, though. Lucas checked his phone. It was only 7:09. Maybe Chris was running late.
    Lucas returned to the front of the restaurant where he ordered a drink. Then he grabbed a seat in the main dining area. He felt awkward sitting alone, so he busied himself with a game of Scrabble on his phone. For someone who so often struggled to find words in conversation, he was surprisingly skilled at word games. He found it difficult to concentrate on Scrabble tonight, though. His gaze drifted toward the entrance every few seconds.
    He was adept at tuning out background noise, especially when he had a lot on his mind, so the nearby conversations barely registered in his ears. Not until he heard the shrill cry of “Cyndi Lauper!” followed by an eruption of laughter. He glanced toward the source of the ruckus and identified six kids he knew from school. They were squeezed into a neighboring booth, from which they were looking in his direction, pointing and laughing. He felt his face flush and glanced toward the entrance, hoping Chris hadn’t walked in just then.
    He’d known that outburst in his music class would come back to haunt him the minute it had escaped his lips.
    He told himself to ignore them. He was pretty sure the kids in the booth were friends with Chris, though, and it made him wonder if they would’ve done it had Chris been sitting with him. Lucas played out the scenario in his mind, imagining Chris would stick up for him. He’d tell them all to fuck off. He’d tell them how he’d heard Lucas play earlier that day. He’d tell them how amazing Lucas was.
    Who was he kidding? Chris would have laughed along with them. Lucas supposed he deserved it. He had squealed, after all, which was a girly thing to do. Even so, he was tired of being the butt of everyone’s jokes.
    His phone now showed 7:25.