"By the way, I showed them one picture. One."
"Um, what?"
"'Cause I don't have a hundred pictures of you on my phone, okay?" My words came out flustered; my face felt like it was on fire, and there was a voice in my head yelling at me to shut up, to not bring it up anymore, but the need to set the record straight was more insistent.
Seth looked amused. "I'm surprised you don't have more than that . . . "
"Wow. Full of yourself much?"
"I just meant, I probably have at least three times that many of you."
There were no comebacks from me this time, just a glare when he stopped talking.
Because he was delusional if he thought and he could spring something like that on me and not be expected to elaborate.
"You've been photobombing me since preschool," he said, laughing. "I should've known it goes both ways."
I decided I could live with that explanation and chuckled as well. When our laughter died down, Seth grabbed a book off the shelf and started leafing through it. A quick glance over his shoulder let me know that it was the same book I had been pretend-reading and almost crushed his foot with earlier.
I didn't even notice that he had taken it with him.
"You read some weird-ass books, you know that?" he said, sticking the judge's memoir haphazardly back in the shelf and pulled out a different hardcover, which he opened to a random page right in the middle.
"What are you guys doing here anyway?"
"Earlier at lunch you guys were talking about meeting here after school."
"Who invited you?"
"Real nice, Adrian," he said, closing the book he was reading to make a face at me.
"I just meant, " I said, flustering, "you guys have been busy and we never see you anymore. I didn't expect that you'd wanna come along."
"Yeah, we needed a break, so . . . " He made a ta-dah gesture with a flourish of his hand.
"Oh. Well, no one else has arrived yet," I said after checking my phone for messages.
"Yeah? And those two dumbasses are probably tied up right about now. Hah!" He sounded a little too gleeful saying the last part, which made me laugh as well. "Guess it's just us for now."
"I guess," I said, smiling back.
In spite of everything, it felt nice being able to hang with him in a familiar setting. Except for being accosted by snotty middle-schoolers, it was beginning to feel like old times.
The two of us wandered aimlessly through the store. Once in a while, he'd examine some items like games and headphones and then he'd lose interest and dash off to another part of the store, leaving a glittery blue and grey blur in his wake. It was making me dizzy.
"Um, you should probably give that back now," I said, referring to my hoodie, which he still wore.
"Hold on, those girls could still come back." He backed away when I held out my hand, like I was gonna take it off him myself. "Besides, I'm starting to like it."
"You must be joking." I stared at him with one raised eyebrow. He had made such a big deal about not wanting to wear it just a few minutes ago.
"It's comfortable, you know?" he said, as if I didn't know what my own clothes felt like. He took a deep, exaggerated breath—just to irritate me, I was sure. "And it smells real good."
"Don't do that. It's creepy." I pretended to cringe but was secretly delighted, having washed the thing myself. I took pride in caring for my clothes. "I'd hate to have to burn that. It's one of my favorites."
Seth chuckled. "I'll keep it if you don't want it anymore. C'mon, let's see how long I can hide in plain sight. I bet I can even stand by the Jordan Castle stuff, like you said."
"You are tempting fate," I said, but he already had his back to me and was once again heading to another part of the store.
With Seth preoccupied, I decided that it was as good a time as any to accomplish what I had come to Warped to do in the first place. Quietly, I slipped away to the center of the store where a large, too-bright monitor showed Jordan Castle and Off-Kilter's performance at Radio City Music Hall, beside which was a rack that held stacks and stacks of DVD's and Blu-rays of the same title.
When I got closer to product display, however, I noticed something not quite right: The quality of the clips being played in a loop wasn't much better than the ones I'd seen on the internet. It could even very well be the original one from Alex. That one in particular had certainly made the rounds and been shared across all platforms.
Frowning, I picked up a DVD and recognized the box art all too well. It wasn't of the concert she had this summer where Off-Kilter made their worldwide debut but of the one she had last year at the same venue.
The same concert I already owned two copies of—one on DVD and another in 3D Blu-ray.
Warped had pulled a number of stunts and gimmicks over the years, but this was a new low.
"Do you see this?" I glowered at the boy who was suddenly by my side again, expecting him to share my indignation. After all, it was his band being dragged into this desperate cash-grab.
Seth looked at the DVD case first, and then the monitor, and nodded. "Okay, yeah. That makes more sense," he said. "I knew it wasn't supposed to come out for at least two months."
"Huh." I made a face. Of the two of us, I should have been the one two know that bit of info. What was the world coming to? "I can't believe they pulled a bait-and-switch."
"You were gonna buy one?"
"I-" Crap. In a state of near-panic at being found out, I threw my hands up, exclaiming, "This store is using your concert to defraud people!"
He gave me a funny look. "Not my concert," he said calmly and then walked away, leaving me to stare at him in wonder.
When I'd caught up with him. He was flipping through a bin of vinyls that were on sale, picking one up to read the sleeve every once in awhile, acting like any other idle teen at the mall.
"What's wrong with you?" I demanded. "How are you so. . . nonchalant about everything?"
"I'm not going to call the cops on a floundering business over a poster, Adrian," he said, slowly and deliberately, as if talking to a five-year-old. "They have enough problems."
"Not what I meant," I said, averting my eyes as a slight feeling of shame crept up on me. A similar idea did cross my mind, only it was the BBB I had planned to get involved. A little extreme maybe but whatever. I just really disliked being lied to and having my time wasted. "Why aren't you happier about what's happening with your band? Seriously, if it were me, I'd be over the moon."
Not only that, I most certainly wouldn't be downplaying it like he had been doing all week, nor be so tight-lipped when it came to giving details.
In fact, if something like this happened to me, good luck trying to get me to shut up about it.
Seth, on the other hand, was acting like it was some other guy who got the big break in New York. Having known him almost all my life, I was used to the unpredictable hair trigger moods that were set off by the most random things but this was baffling.
"I just don't see what's so exciting about singing backup."
"You sang a duet. With Jordan Castle. Not really the same thing," I pointed out. Though somehow, I wasn't surprised: I didn't call Seth a diva for no reason. He would complain about sharing a stage with the one of the biggest stars of our generation. He was probably the only person in the whole universe who would. "I mean, you could do a lot worse . . ."
His expression hardened. "And not much better, right? So I should stop being an ingrate because the audition I didn't even ask for was the best thing that's ever gonna happen in my life and more than I deserve?"
Without waiting for my response, he turned his attention to the record bin once more. I gaped at him, taken aback by his words. It didn't sound like him at all, although I had a feeling I knew whose words those could have come from.
"You and your dad still not getting along?" I asked gently, with a slight crack in my voice. I had hoped the time in New York had changed all that.
He didn't say anything but the record-flipping slowed.
I made a disbelieving noise."Has he never heard you play? Because that's the only way he'd be able to say those things and actually mean them."
"Ignore him," I went on. "Think of how good it's gonna feel when you prove him wrong."
"You think that's gonna happen?" Seth asked, looking at me expectantly.
I wasn't sure how to respond. Seth had amazing self-confidence and very rarely ever doubted himself; he had no reason to. Just look at all he had accomplished in just one summer.
Seth had a gift. He learned to play the piano as an infant, took up countless other instruments since, and had the voice of a Disney prince. He lived and breathed music. Everything else that managed to catch his interest never seemed to hold on to it for more than a day before being cast aside and forgotten.
Cue coughing noises.
Anyway, I supposed this was why he was less than thrilled about the way he found success: Because in time, he would have made it on his own. He didn't need to ride another artists' coattails, or to have his dad pull some strings just to throw it in his face. (I didn't even know his dad could have those kinds of connections from working at a bank or whatever it was his dad did.)
But of course, I couldn't say any of these things to his face. Giving inspirational speeches was not my strong suit, and I was always self-conscious about saying anything that sounded remotely like a compliment to Seth because having visible hearts in my eyes as I did felt like a very real concern.
I looked away, just in case, and made a sweeping gesture across the room. "Look around. This whole place is betting on you."
He scanned the entire store, looking thoughtful. "Guess they're willing to try anything at this point," he said quietly. "I'll bring up your idea about doing promotion stuff here with the guys. Can't hurt, right?"
A strange feeling came over me when I he said this. It wasn't surprise, exactly. I knew Seth could be generous when he wanted. More like I wanted to step up as well.
But what could I do?
"Maybe I can preorder the right DVD," I wondered aloud. Seth's expression soured, making me feel defensive. "It's not like anyone's gonna pay to get my signature."
"Just don't, okay?"
My brows drew together. It seemed that the wind changed once more and he reverted to his previous surly, less charitable self to whom Jordan Castle might still be a sore point.
God, what a pickle.
"You can't tell me what to do," I said, feigning indignation. "So just shut up and take my money."
The glare he was giving me softened and a little dimple appeared on the left side of his mouth. I found it encouraging.
"I just want to see what I missed," I said gently. "If it really bothers you, I'll get rid of it afterwards. The three of you can sign my copy and I'll sell it on eBay."
Seth still wouldn't look at me, but just as I was starting to get used to having a one-sided conversation, he spoke up, "How much do you think you can get for one signed by Jordan Castle?"
"Like I'd sell something as priceless as that. I'd leave it to my grandkids." Those words sunk in and I scoffed inwardly. Grandkids, me? "On second thought, I'll be buried with it. To hell with the future generations—I mean, if I had it."
Even though he had said nothing, the way his mouth turned upwards made my eyes go wide. "No." The word came out hushed, and in my excitement, I slapped him on the arm. "Oh my God. You didn't!"
"You should be getting something in the mail in a couple of weeks."
"Weeks?" I repeated in a whiny voice and hit his arm again. Harder this time. "What am I supposed to do until then?"
Seth shook his head and rubbed the spot I made contact with. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you ahead of time," he complained loudly, but the little smile was still there. "You're a bigger ingrate than I am."
"For future reference, this is me being grateful." I went for a third hit, which he anticipated and successfully dodged.
And happy, I added silently. And light-headed from an overwhelming urge to do things—dirty things—to this boy.
Which I knew made zero sense coming from me even if I wasn't completely over him. And I was. . . except once in a while when he did something incredibly sweet and thoughtful like this and made a goddamn liar out of me.
His expression turned serious and for a moment, I was worried that, dammit, maybe the heart eyes made an appearance after all.
"I know it's not the same as seeing her live . . ." He broke off, sounding apologetic. It was no secret among my friends how important Jordan Castle was to me. Watching her in concert was something I had wanted to do since I first watched her perform more than two years ago.
For one reason or another, however, her concerts had always been a little bit out of my reach and their recent Jordan Castle/Off-Kilter connection was the closest thing I'd had to a real chance of my dream coming true.
But of course, I'd had time to process and felt a little differently than I did a few days ago.
"You already explained that it was out of your hands." I dismissed him with a wave. "Don't worry about it, Seth. It's the same concert, and at least I'll get to relive it over and over."
Seth looked like he might say something more, so I waited, but he didn't. The two of us just stood there, staring at each other until a loud, obnoxious voice broke through the background noise and snapped me out of my daze.
"Fuck this Off-Kilter shit, man. I hate these douchebags."