“What happened? Did your uncle change his mind?”
“Not exactly. But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and I don’t care if it does. He’s being so awful tonight.” I didn’t say anything. I would never understand the relationship between Lena and Macon, any more than she could understand the relationship between Amma and me. But I knew she was going to feel terrible when this was all over. She couldn’t stand to hear anyone say anything bad about her uncle, not even me; for her to be the one saying it made it that much worse.
“Did you sneak out?”
“Yeah. Larkin helped me.” Larkin walked toward us, carrying a plastic cup. “You only turn sixteen once, right?”
This isn’t a good idea, L.
I just want one dance. Then we’ll go back.
Link headed for the stage. “I wrote you a song for your birthday, Lena. You’re gonna love it.”
“What’s it called?” I asked suspiciously.
“Sixteen Moons. Remember? That weird song you could never find on your iPod? It just popped into my head last week, all in one piece. Well, Rid helped a little.” He grinned. “I guess you could say, I had a muse.”
I was speechless. But Lena grabbed my hand, and Link grabbed the microphone, and there was no stopping him. He adjusted the microphone stand so that the mic was in front of his mouth. Well, to be honest, it was more like inside his mouth, and it was sort of gross. Link had watched a lot of MTV over at Earl’s. You had to hand it to him, since he was about to get rolled off the stage, holy or not. He was pretty brave, all things considered.
He closed his eyes, sitting behind the drums, sticks poised in the air. “One, two, three.”
The lead guitarist, the surly-looking guy wearing the bike chain, hit one note on his guitar. It sounded awful, and the amps began to whine on either side of the stage. I winced. This was not going to be pretty. And then he hit another note, and another.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, if there are any a either around.” Link raised an eyebrow and a ripple of laughter moved through the crowd. “I’d like to say Happy Birthday, Lena. And now, put your hands together for the world premiere of my new band, the Holy Rollers.”
Link winked at Ridley. The guy thought he was Mick Jagger. I felt bad for him, and grabbed Lena’s hand. It felt like I had plunged my hand into the lake, in the winter, when the top of the water was warm from the sun and an inch below that was pure ice. I shivered, but I wouldn’t let go. “I hope you’re ready for this. He’s going to go down in flames. We’ll be back in your room in five minutes.
Promise.”
She stared up at him thoughtfully. “I’m not so sure about that.”
Ridley sat at the edge of the stage, smiling and waving like a groupie. Her hair was twisting in the breeze, pink and blond strands beginning to loop around her shoulders.
Then I heard the familiar melody, and Sixteen Moons was blasting out of the amps. Only this time, it wasn’t like one of the songs from Link’s demo tapes. They were good, really good. And the crowd went wild, like Jackson High was finally getting to have a dance after all. Only we were in a meadow, in the middle of Ravenwood, the most infamous and feared plantation in Gatlin County. The energy was amazing, surging like a rave. Everyone was dancing and half the people were singing, which was crazy, since nobody had ever even heard the song before. Even Lena had to crack a smile, and we began to sway with the crowd, because you really just couldn’t help it.
“They’re playing our song.” She found my hand.
“I was just thinking that.”
“I know.” She laced her fingers through mine, sending shivers through my body. “And they’re pretty good,” she said, shouting over the crowd.
“Good? They’re great! As in, the greatest day of Link’s life.” I mean, it was crazy, the whole thing. The Holy Rollers, Link, the party. Ridley bobbing on the edge of the stage, sucking on her Ridleypop. Not the craziest thing I’d seen today, but still.
So later, when Lena and I were dancing and five minutes came and went, and then twenty-five, and then fifty-five, neither one of us even noticed or cared. We were stopping time—at least that’s how it felt. We had one dance, but we had to make it last as long as we could, in case it was all we had.
Larkin was in no hurry. He was all tangled up with Emily, making out by the side of one of the bonfires someone had made out of old garbage cans. Emily was wearing Larkin’s jacket and every now and then he’d pull down the shoulder and lick her neck or something gross. He really was a snake.
“Larkin! She’s, like, sixteen,” Lena called over toward the fire from where we were dancing. Larkin stuck out his tongue, which rolled further down toward the ground than any Mortal’s could have.