Just Like a Musical Read Online Free PDF Page B

get ready anyway.
    ***
    The party was a pure disaster.
    First, the music was awful.
    Second, when we came in dressed like time travelers – me in a 1920s dress and Joshua – that was his name, I finally found out that when we met at the Hemingway Fountain – in a black smoking jacket, some guy approached us and laughed at us.
    “Have you missed the century, guys?” he said. “You look kind of freakish!”
    “That’s none of your beeswax,” I answered graciously. That is how people used to talk back in the 1920s, but he didn’t understand, of course. He didn’t have Mrs. Wheeler for his friend to tell him about all the great stuff from the past. So he just made a sour, pitiful face and turned around.
    Third, Joshua called four people morons, and one of them almost started a fight, so I had to apologize to Tanya, although I didn’t feel like apologizing at all, and explain to her and everybody else who felt insulted about Joshua’s Tourette’s.
    By ten o’clock, we were sitting on the stairs, alone and fairly indisposed. The loud and utterly senseless music made the conversation almost impossible.
    “Hey, what do you think? Should we…?” I said, faltering.
    “Should we what?”
    “You know,” I smiled, nodding toward the door. “Should we get out of here?”
    “That’s out of the question!” he laughed. “We’re having such a great time!”
    I told Tanya that I didn’t feel well and promised I would call her the next day. I guess she was relieved, poor girl.
    We stepped into the night.
    “I like your jacket,” I said as the sounds of that soulless music faded behind us. “I thought I would be the only one dressed formally.”
    “Where did you get that dress, by the way?” he asked. “It’s rad.”
    A guy who pays attention to what a girl wears.  I think I read something about that kind in one of my mother’s magazines.
    “I borrowed it from a friend. She has the most amazing collection of old evening gowns. This one was worn by some old actress. Or dead actress, to be more precise.”
    “Your friend?” he said, giving me a questioning glare.
    “Yes, she worked as a costume designer in Hollywood.”
    “What? But how old is she?”
    “She’s seventy-eight,” I answered proudly. “She’s seventy-eight years old, and she’s the most interesting person in the world.”
    ***
    He took me to the rooftop of an abandoned building on the outskirts of the town. My mother would have gone nuts if she could see me on a chilly night, on a dark rooftop with a guy that I met only twenty-nine hours earlier.
    I leaned on a chimney flue, observing the dark silhouette of a factory building across the street.
    “So what’s wrong with your knee?” he said and leaned beside me.
    “There’s nothing wrong with my knee,” I said, feeling my heart pounding .
    “You said yesterday that you were homeschooled because of your knee.”
    “Oh, that…” I said, pretending that I hadn’t realized what he was talking about. “Well, when I was eleven, my knee was badly skinned during gym class. That’s why my mom dragged me out of school. She was really angry. It’s not that interesting, actually.”
    “That was the reason?” he asked, swallowing hard. “That’s really weird.”
    The car lights splashed over our faces. We looked at each other for a second before we sank into the dark again.
    How do you tell the guy who you have a serious crush on that your mother is a full-time maniac who doesn’t let you go outside when it rains? I could almost see this giant, slippery ball of silent misunderstanding bouncing between us, threatening to take Joshua inside and carry him away. There was no way back. I had to tell him the truth.
    “I had this condition when I was born… a heart disease. So my mom has always been very protective. She thought that I shouldn’t attend gym classes at all. Actually, she had tons of complaints about my teachers, and school policies, and food, and everything. I guess she