Kiss of Death by Lauren Henderson

Author:Lauren Henderson [Henderson, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-375-89948-5
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2011-05-10T04:00:00+00:00

twelve

“WHAT IF I’M NOT THE HEROINE?”

Before we all went our separate ways after our visit to the cemetery, Callum took my mobile number, and Ewan must have taken Taylor’s. They texted us today to let us know that Mac Attack was doing a gig in a pub within walking distance of our school, hoping we could come. I never saw the text, of course, because I haven’t switched on my phone again, but Taylor got hers and was very keen for us to go.

Whereas Alison and Luce, as Taylor deduced, checked out the Mac Attack page on MySpace and saw there that the band was playing tonight, opening for someone called Nuala Kennedy. I introduce them both to Callum and Ewan, and watch with amusement as they babble compliments to the boys and say how much they liked their playing at Celtic Connections.

“Well, thanks!” Ewan says, beaming cheerfully and jumping down from the stage to shake their hands in a way that should be silly, because it’s a bit formal, but is actually charming. “What did you think of the MySpace page? I’m still tinkering with it—you got any suggestions?”

He couldn’t have asked a better question. Luce, who’s always been a computer whiz, dives into her bag, bringing out an iPad, which she turns on, logging on to MySpace to brainstorm with Ewan. Their heads meet as they scan down the Mac Attack page, Ewan enthusiastically narrating what he’s done with it so far.

He may not be the front man of the band, I think, but he’s got the personality for it. He loves meeting new people, chatting them up—unlike Callum, who’s more the strong and silent type.

I look at Callum, who’s doing a final tuning up of his violin, his chin squashed into it, an expression of serious concentration on his handsome face. He has the photogenic looks; there’s a reason why, on the CD jewel case, Callum’s in the center of the group, looking brooding and mysterious. But Ewan’s the one who’ll be great in interviews and for working the fans, who’ll send out chatty MySpace bulletins and project an infectious enthusiasm that will keep them coming back.

They’re a great team, I reflect. Like me and Taylor.

As if he’s read my mind, Ewan’s looking round for her now.

“Hey! Taylor!” he calls across the bar, waving at her, a big smile on his face, completely unembarrassed about yelling a girl’s name across a crowded space.

Taylor grins back at him, even raising a hand to wave, calling a degree of attention to herself that she would usually very much dislike. But it’s impossible to resist Ewan. He’s like a big friendly dog—not the brainless retriever that I’ve compared Lizzie to in the past, but a sheepdog who wants to round everyone up, collect us all into one big party together.

“Catch you later!” he calls, jumping up onto the stage and going over to grab his guitar.

I nod at Alison and Luce, and they actually smile back at me.

“See you after the gig,” I say, noticing that they’ve softened considerably toward me.

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