Page 51 of The Serpent King

“Now you have to promise me you’ll stop bugging me about college.”

“Nope, not gonna do that.”

“Why do I have to make all the promises?”

“Because I’m asking you to promise to stop being lame, and you’re asking me to promise to stop being awesome, which I cannot, in good conscience, do.”

“Please don’t make me feel shitty for making the choices I have to make.”

Lydia got up from her bed, walked over to her desk, and opened a drawer. “Nope again. But I will allow you to change the subject temporarily.” She pulled her old Mac laptop out of the drawer and wound up the power cord.

She returned to Dill and dropped the bundle in his lap. “Here. Merry early Christmas, happy late birthday, happy Halloween, happy whatever.”

Dill’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Hold on. You’re giving me this? Are you serious?”

“Yep. I don’t need two computers and I got a new one for college. That one’s about four years old. It’s what I started Dollywould on, so it’s got a lot of sentimental value to me. So maybe don’t break it. It still works pretty well. A little slow sometimes.”

Dill hugged Lydia again, knocking her glasses crooked. “Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.”

“Okay, easy. Don’t thank me by breaking my glasses. Oh, and the best part is that because I’m not an awful, gross dude, the keyboard is one hundred percent semen free.”

Dill glowed, joyous. Not just because of the computer. Because he and Lydia had made up. The gift was evidence of that.

“Oh, here,” Lydia said, taking the laptop and opening it. “Let me show you how to take video of yourself with it. Then you can start recording your songs.”

“I’ve never recorded myself before,” Dill said. “We haven’t even owned a computer since the police seized ours.”

“Seriously? You’ve never recorded yourself? Okay, well, it’s time to start. That’s your first assignment.” She demonstrated how to shoot video and record using the laptop’s built-in videocamera and microphone. “You got it?”

“I got it.”

“Excellent.” She got up and sat back down at her desk. “Now scoot, because I have a lot of work to do,” she said, with a whisking hand motion.

“Lydia. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She scrolled through her document, not looking up. “Oh, by the way, I have to cancel this week’s Friday movie night. Too busy with college and blog stuff.”

Dill’s face fell. Lydia gave him a cautioning glance and raised a finger, mouthing the words you promised.

Dill nodded, turned, and left.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Lydia called down, “Hey, Dad, I gave my old computer to Dill. He’s not stealing it.”

“Okay, honey. Hey, Dill, come in.”

Dill stepped into his study. Antiques filled the room. Leather-bound books. A large Dolan Geiman collage made from found materials hanging on one wall. A couple of guitars hanging on another wall. A vintage Fender amplifier.

Dr. Blankenship rose from his desk and got down one of the guitars: a gorgeous 1960s Fender Stratocaster in a tobacco sunburst pattern. He handed it to Dill, who handled it like it was a museum piece. It must have cost a fair penny.

“This is beautiful, Dr. Blankenship.”

“Put it on. Let’s play a couple licks, huh?”

Dill set down his new computer on Dr. Blankenship’s desk and slung the guitar over his neck. He played a quick run to limber up his fingers. Dr. Blankenship got out a cord and flipped on the amp. They waited for it to warm up.

Dill strummed a chord. “Where did you get this?”

Dr. Blankenship plugged in the guitar. “An estate sale in Nashville. Let ’er rip!”