Rhythm & Clues: A Young Adult Novel Read Free Page A

knuckles white on the door handle. “No idea.”
    I pound the brake, and she lurches forward. “You said you knew where Gavin was.” A car behind me honks, and I slowly accelerate.
    “I will. Eventually. He said these are clues. You’re the one who knows where they lead. We have to visit whatever places these trinkets refer to, a bread crumb trail to his whereabouts.” She spins around and settles the shoebox into the backseat.
    “That doesn’t make sense. What are we supposed to look for when we get to these places?”
    “See? You don’t trust him. I bet he realized you wouldn’t figure it out on your own.” She smirks at me. “That’s why he included me. I’m supposed to decipher whatever info we find at these places.”
    Ouch. Gavin really doesn’t think I know him well enough. I swallow hard.
    I raise a brow at Miss Know-it-all. “So which one do we go to first?”
    Without missing a beat, Sabrina says, “Chronologically. We have to think like Gavin.”
    “Paper lantern it is then.” And I drive off in the direction of the abandoned warehouse that changed my life. And Gavin’s too.

Three Months Ago

I wouldn’t have noticed the advertisement if I hadn’t volunteered to clear off the grocery store bulletin board every week. I always thought a person had to be really desperate to place an ad here, where no one would see it, rather than on the Internet. But maybe that was the point for the ad I just pulled off. Instead of trying to catch a passerby’s eye with computer-generated borders, large fonts, and an abundance of exclamation points, this yellow post-it note hid behind the other ads. A spider web of folds creased the sheet as if the person crumpled it, but then changed their mind and stuck it up.
     
    Band Audition. Teens only, please. Bring your own instrument.
     
    It was the please that caught my attention, the polite begging.
    A few cashiers giggled as they watched me, probably thinking I was so desperate for free stuff, I’d take whatever junk was offered here. And I usually did. Not to mention volunteering for extra tasks made me an alien, someone with an obvious agenda. I glared at them.
    Their giggles increased.
    I smelled the bubblegum before I heard the cow chewing. Staring at the post-it in my palm, I moved my thumb to obscure the address written beneath the text.
    “Can I see that?” Amber, the nosiest of all the cashiers peered over my shoulder. She wore too much make-up, and I suspected she took a dip through the samples in the beauty department during her break. “My boyfriend plays guitar.”
    The lightweight note felt heavy in my hands, as if it held some significance I couldn’t put my finger on. I shook my head.
    Her eyes narrowed. “Give me that. What, are you like a groupie or something?”
    I lifted my chin. “I’m going to audition.”
    “You?” She popped her gum. “In a band? Janine! Come here. You have to hear this.” She waved over the red-headed cashier who continued flipping through a magazine without looking up.
    “Amber!” Our manager approached with his arms crossed. “Get back to work.”
    Amber glanced from the post-it to our boss. “Whatever,” she said with a defeated glaze in her eyes as she stalked back to her aisle.
    When the manager retreated to the back office, the girls slammed me for my lack of talent—though they had no way of knowing—and my apparent habit of seducing guitar gods. Yeah, right. I’d never seduced anyone. Still, the barbs stung and I bit my cheek to stave off tears.
    Instead of tossing the post-it into the garbage where it probably belonged, I shoved it in my pocket.

    I peered down at the address and time on the sticky note to make sure I was in the right place. My pulse amped in my veins as my shaking fingers closed over my door handle. The breeze picked up pace, blowing dust devils down the road like even the dirt wanted to escape the dreariness. Several buildings lined the path; their rundown structures yearned