Where We Used to Roam Jenn Bishop (red white royal blue TXT) 📖

“Want to go grab a drink?” Kennedy asked.

I peeked back at the drummer as he got up from the drum set. He picked off his beanie, holding it in his teeth, and ran his fingers through his perfect, thick brown hair.

“Earth to Emma?”

“Sorry,” I said.

“No you’re not.” Kennedy laughed. “You have a crush.”

“What?” Even though it was kind of cold in the gym, I could feel my face flush. “No, I don’t.”

“Wow, you are a horrible liar. Like, really. Don’t ever try to work for the CIA, Emma.”

“On Noah?” Lucy asked. “Noah Sullivan? Little Noah Sullivan?” She played with the tiny orange woolen paws dangling from her fox hat.

“He’s not so little anymore,” Kennedy said. “A lot can happen in five months, huh? He looks more like his older brother.”

I couldn’t stop my eyes from darting back in his direction. He was dismantling his drum kit so the next band could set up. What was wrong with me? No, like, really. This had never happened with any boy back at my school. They were all so… I don’t know, familiar. And none of them had had growth spurts yet. They still looked like fifth graders.

“Let’s go get that drink,” I said. “I’m thirsty.”

“Yeah,” Kennedy said. “Thirsty for Noah Sullivan.”

“Ew. Stop.” I smacked her as we headed into the hallway.

Students were selling water, soda, and baked goods to raise money for a local animal shelter. We bought waters and an enormous M&M chocolate chip cookie to split between the three of us and found a quiet spot to sit against some lockers.

“You should go say hi to him, Emma.” Kennedy broke the cookie into thirds. Well, sort of thirds. More like a half and two quarters. Lucy lunged for the largest piece.

“Say hi to him? No way.” I took a bite of cookie.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Kennedy asked.

Spontaneous combustion.

“I don’t know…,” I said. “What would I even say next? After hi, I mean?”

Kennedy ran her tongue over her teeth to get at a piece of red M&M. “You could say that you liked his band. You could ask how long he’s played the drums. You could ask… anything, Em. He’s just a person.”

“A cute boy person,” I said. “That’s the difference.”

“What, and Austin’s never had any cute friends?” Kennedy asked.

“Ken’s right,” Lucy said. “You’ve one hundred percent definitely talked to a cute boy before. It would be humanly impossible not to unless you never left your house. And you do leave your house.”

“Em,” Kennedy said, nodding. “Em!”

“What?” Did I have chocolate stuck to my teeth too?

“He’s about to walk by us,” Kennedy said.

“Who?” I asked.

Kennedy rolled her eyes. “The Pope.”

The Pope?

“Noah, Em. Noah!” she whisper-yelled.

I jerked my head around and there he was. Along with the bassist from Strawberry Jammin’. The two of them were carrying the kick drum, Noah leading the way.

“Be brave, Emma,” Kennedy said, before shoving the last bite of cookie in her mouth.

My heart was in my throat. Or maybe, maybe that was just some cookie. I should’ve had more water. But if I took a sip now, I’d miss my chance. “Hey,” I said, surprised by the sound of my own voice. Was it always that high? “You guys were really good.”

His head pivoted toward me. He had the most beautiful hazel eyes, like something out of a painting in a museum. “Thanks,” he said, and then he did this funny thing with his mouth, halfway between a grimace and a smile. “I kinda botched that last song.”

“I couldn’t even tell.”

“That makes me feel better.”

“Let’s move it, Sully. However strong you think I am, I’m not,” his bandmate said.

“Got to go,” Noah said to me, and then they continued down the hall.

Kennedy grabbed my shoulders the second they were out of earshot. “I knew you could do it.”

“I didn’t barf or explode!”

“Were those things maybe going to happen?” Lucy laughed.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t talk to cute boys. I told you!”

“Well, that is certifiably false.” Kennedy wiped some crumbs off her shirt. “Because you just did.”

“Hey, I think the Lavenders are starting up.” Just as Lucy said it, I heard a guitar softly strumming. “Time to head back in?”

The Lavenders weren’t the kind of band you stood around for. Everyone was sitting in groups on the floor, and so we sat down, the three of us, twenty feet or so back from the stage. I stretched my legs out in front of me, knocking my feet together to the beat. Lucy was playing with the strings from her hat. Kennedy had taken out a Sharpie and was drawing little stars all over the back of her right hand.

Suddenly, I could picture it. Like a fast-forward of my life. Me and Kennedy and Lucy. I could see us together in high school, going to a party. I couldn’t imagine drinking or most of the other stuff that happens at those parties Austin goes to, but I could imagine us. Our trio. My… my herd.

The next morning, I stopped by Becca’s for my usual second breakfast. Becca’s Bubbe probably wondered why on earth my parents never seemed to feed me breakfast on Saturdays. Well, if she did, she never said anything. Anyway, it was pretty much her fault for making the most delicious challah French toast on the planet. Who could say no to that? Not my stomach.

Becca and her family were leaving for Paris later that afternoon for all of February vacation. It wasn’t like I actually wanted to swap families with Becca, but every time they went on fancy vacations, I couldn’t help but be a little jealous.

We O’Malleys hardly went anywhere. Mom never trusted leaving the store for too long, and even though he had to travel to cover big storms, my dad didn’t really like flying. We went down to the Cape every summer for a week or two, but that was about it.

“I wish I could go to Paris,” I said, sitting cross-legged