Page 14 of The Bad Boyfriend Curse
We work silently for a while. It’s awkward. Not that I’m a particularly chatty person, but if we’re going to be spending hours in each other’s company while on this job, talking does help the time go faster. I take a breath. “What did you mean before,It’ll never be what it used to be? Did that gazebo used to be pretty?”
“No, not in my lifetime. And it’s not agazebo. It’s abandstand. I’ve seen some pictures of my dad’s old band performing on it. Cherrybridge used to have this huge music scene, believe it or not.”
I didn’t know that. Cherrybridge is technically a small city, not a town, but with a population of barely fifty thousand, it feelstinycompared to Toronto. I wouldn’t have thought it was big enough to have a music scene. But then again, everything I knew about Cherrybridge before two days ago was filtered through my LeClair executive stepfather. And Jason’s probably always been too buttoned-up to enjoy live music.
“That’s actually really cool,” I say. “What genre was popular?”
“Everything,” he says, still trimming branches. “You know that folk singer Abbey Shields from the seventies? She’s originally from Cherrybridge. And this metal band, Crack in thePavement. Lots of indie bands too. My dad and his friends had a grunge band in the nineties. They almost made it big. The city used to have weekly free concerts here in Gordon Park and bring in musicians from all over. Dad played a bunch of times.” Noah smiles to himself. He clearly adores his dad. “Cherrybridge still has live music performances in pretty much every bar on the weekends, though my dad doesn’t really play anymore.”
“That’s so cool that your dad was in a band.” I remember that Noah said his guitar and band shirts mean a lot to him. Is that because of his father? “I call live music my only guilty pleasure, the thing I love even though it has nothing to do with my career goals.”
Noah gives me a quizzical look. “Why would you feelguiltyabout doing something that you enjoy? Your future job shouldn’t define who you are now.”
I frown. Because loving live music isn’t going to be the thing that makes me successful. Or break the cycle of ruined lives that this curse has inflicted on my family. I’m going to be the first girl to go to university, and I’m going to do it with a scholarship. I’m going to be an architect.
But I don’t tell Noah this. He doesn’t need to hear about my family baggage.
Instead I say, “My guidance counselor once said to dress for the job you want. So that rules concert T-shirts out, I guess.” I scrunch my face. I hope I’m not insulting him again. “I like your band shirts, though,” I add. I mean it.
“Thanks,” he replies, facing the tree. “Do you have any concerts coming up?”
“No. I was supposed to go to a music festival in Montreal this summer, but I had to sell my ticket.”
He turns to me again, an odd look on his face. “Summer Glow Festival?”
“Yes! Are you going?”
He blinks a few times, then shakes his head and goes back to pruning. “I was supposed to. Had to cancel because of community service. It might be the last Trills show ever, you know?”
While we work, we talk about that festival and the bands playing at it. Turns out we have overlapping tastes—indie stuff, but he’s a bit more into indie rock, while I like indie folk. He’s also really into nineties grunge, which I like too, but I’m not as hardcore into it.
“You said your guitar was important to you. Are you any good?” I ask.
Noah looks at me for several long seconds. I can see a laugh behind his eyes, and I have no idea what’s so amusing. “Um, yeah. I’m all right.” He turns back to the tree and cuts off a stray branch.
Did I say something wrong? I frown. I can’t figure out why I feel so… awkward with Noah. Like, sometimes he’s so easy to talk to, and sometimes I feel like he’s laughing at whatever I say. “You go to Cherrybridge High, right?” I ask.
He nods as he clips the next branch. “Just graduated.”
Oh. So he’s older than me. Is he eighteen? He has tattoos. You need to be eighteen for that, right? I pick the branch up from the ground to toss into the bag. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen,” he says. “Turn eighteen in October.”
“I’m seventeen too. My birthday’s in May. I still have ayear left of high school, though. You going away for college or uni next year?”
He laughs again, this time loudly. “No. Staying right here. Taking the summer off to do this crap. Then I’ll find a job in September. Maybe at LeClair Industries. It’s the circle of life in Cherrybridge.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kids from Cherrybridge High graduate, then work in the plant, and kids from the other side graduate, then move away. The real sadistic ones come back as LeClair management so they can own the rest of us. At least my dad’s a floor supervisor, so he’ll make sure I get a good starting shift.”
“What does your mom do?” I wince the moment the words are out of my mouth. Sadie said his mom died of an overdose.
“She’s a home-care nurse in Toronto. My folks aren’t together. I was raised mostly by my dad, but I still see my mom sometimes.”
I smile. Iknewall those rumors about him weren’t true. “My mom’s a nurse too. Or she used to be before she moved here. Do you actuallywantto work in the plant?” It certainly doesn’t sound like he does. I don’t know much about Noah, but he seems smart enough to go to college and get a job he might enjoy more than working in an automotive parts plant.
Noah raises one brow. “Princess, not everyone has the privilege or the opportunity to make their own career choices. That’s why I don’t think your job should define you. I know this is your first time on this side of the river, but surely you understand that some people have toworkto pay for their fancy new shoes?”
