Bright Lights, Dark Nights Read Online Free PDF Page B

face.
    â€œI think we’ve got a diaper mess,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
    â€œLet Mr. Funny Guy do it,” Mr. Mills said, and gave a stern look to Jason.
    â€œI’ll do it. I was going to anyway,” Jason said, not believably, getting up and taking the baby. “You all act like you know me, but you don’t get the real me at all, okay? Let’s keep that straight.”
    They all laughed at tough Jason. Naomi covered her mouth when she laughed or when she was eating. You could still see the laughter in her eyes, though. I stood up after Jason to refill my glass of water from the pitcher on the table. I was used to having soda with dinner, but with fancy food like this, water was fine.
    â€œSo, Walter,” Denise started a few seconds later, just as Naomi said, “You’re a senior, right?” I wasn’t sure who to respond to before Naomi continued. “You’re in Jason’s grade?”
    â€œJason’s grade? Yeah, Jason and I are seniors.” She knew what grade Jason was in. “You’re a what?” I said, pretending I didn’t know she was a junior.
    â€œJunior,” she said, lifting her eyebrows and looking down at her plate. “Two more years until I graduate.”
    â€œDon’t say it like you’re getting out of prison,” Denise said. “You do plenty and you know it.”
    â€œUh-uh, I can’t go to a simple concert,” Naomi said, picking up on a conversation I’d guessed had been going on for a while. “Jason gets to do whatever he wants, and he did last year, too.”
    â€œThere’s going to be boys and alcohol there, and you’re not going,” Denise said. She picked up one food item at a time when she ate. I’d already mushed my food into a pile resembling Kelly’s food at that point. “Besides, we have company, so this is not the time, okay?”
    â€œWatch my eye roll, Mom. See this? This one’s for you.” Naomi rolled her eyes.
    â€œThat was an impressive eye roll,” I said. “Just the right amount of roll.”
    â€œMom, I’ve never talked to a single boy, like, ever, okay?” Naomi said, before turning her head toward me. “Do you like the Foo Fighters, Walter?”
    â€œThe Foo Fighters?” I asked. Naomi’s dense sarcasm was leaching into me like a virus. “Oh, I just call them Uncle Dave’s band. It’s hard to even think of them as a real-life band and not just Uncle Dave and his buddies jamming in the basement.”
    â€œI need to meet your uncle Dave. You’re the coolest,” Naomi deadpanned with a smile. “You must be a huge rock fan with such impressive lineage.”
    â€œI listen to all kinds of stuff,” I said. It was an honest answer. After my dad and I moved, I got really into music. Especially once high school started and I didn’t really fit in anywhere, most of my time outside of school (and some of it in school) was spent searching for music, discovering classic albums and artists from any genre and era.
    â€œ No way ,” Naomi said with fake enthusiasm. “All kinds of stuff? That’s my favorite, too!”
    â€œIt’s the only categorizing I’ll allow on my iPod, ‘All Kinds Of Stuff.’ Frank Sinatra is right next to the Fugees.”
    â€œAnd Foo Fighters,” Naomi added, playing with the food on her plate.
    â€œNo, they’re under ‘U’ for ‘Uncle Dave’s Band,’” I said. We had an easy banter, unlike the one I had with my sister, which generally ended in a headlock or smack. This was a girl around my age, someone I wasn’t actually related to. At school I’d think of these kinds of retorts or jokes, but I never said them out loud. I never wanted the attention. But I wanted Naomi’s attention.
    Mr. Mills finished off his plate and excused himself. He started bringing dishes to the