“Don’t tell me it’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody.’”
“Hey, nothing wrong with that, Music Snob—”
“Pleasedon’t start calling me that. It’s bad enough you call me Subwayboy.”
“Because youareSubwayboy. But no, it’s not ‘Rhapsody.’” The opening of “Killer Queen” begins. “It’s this one.”
Oliver’s gaze clings to mine. “That’s my second favorite.”
“Sometimes I think my dad keeps his moustache because he thinks it makes him look like Freddie Mercury,” I say.
Oliver laughs—a real, genuine laugh! “I’m going to tell him he does the next time I see him in the hall.”
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he’s crossed paths with my dad, given that we live five feet from each other, but I am.
“Don’t. If you do, he will never shut up about it, and then I will have to hear about it every day of my life until I die.”
This time, Oliver’s eyes crinkle when he laughs. “I’m playing you my favorite Bowie song after this, and then you can play me yours.”
It’s strange. I don’t think I’ve seen Oliver this happy, well, ever. Even stranger? I’m sort of enjoying this.
“Okay,” I say, grinning. “Deal.”
THIRTY-NINE
Patrick
I’ve been wandering around the festival with Vicky for almost two hours. We got distracted by the Bake Club’s pie-eating contest for a good while before we left to grab a slice of free pizza. I assumed Sara Lin would text me once Rose released her from newspaper booth duty, but she hasn’t. Which means she’s probably already wandered off with Joe.
Ugh, figures.
At least I have Vicky to keep me company. We’ve already compared Eagle Gate’s clubs and extracurriculars to the ones she has at Brookside, but she was eager to learn more about the organizations they don’t have—like Culinary Club. She spends so much time working at Kiki’s, so I don’t get why she’d want to surround herself with even more food, but I oblige anyway. It’s not like I have anything better to do.
Eventually, the pain meds my doctor gave me at the hospital start wearing off. I start moving slower, and Vicky offers to meet me back at the booth after she finds me some water. It’s a kind gesture, really, so I tell her I’ll meet her over there.
When I enter the booth from the back, I’m shocked to find the back of Sara Lin’s head, where she’s sitting next to—
Subwayboy?
What the heck? Have they been here this entire time? Where’s Joe?
I drag another folding chair between them, which makes them jolt apart. Ah. They were listening to music with his earphones. They’ve folded their jackets over the backs of their chairs, comfortable, as if they’ve been here a while.
Weird. Since when are they friendly? Doesn’t matter, though I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t bet her she’d sit here in silence the entire time.
“Patrick? Are you okay?”
But it’s not Sara who asks. It’s Tammy.
Where did she even come from?
I sink into the chair. “My pain meds wore off. Vicky went to grab water for me.”
Sara checks the time on Oliver’s phone. “It’s okay, Patrick. The festival’s almost over. You can—” Suddenly, her face falls. “Crap! The festival’s almost over!”
I arch one brow. “Youjustsaid that.”
She’s on her feet in an instant, scrambling toward the front of the booth. “Why didn’t Rose ever come back? Ugh!”
