Если я останусь
4:57 A.M.
"That’snotwhatImeant,"Adamsaid,turningmyfacetowardhissoIwaslookingathimintheeye.
"Iknowthat’snotwhatyoumeant,"Ireplied,butthenalumplodgeditselfinmythroatandIcouldn’ttalkanymore.
Wetriedtodefusethetension,totalkaboutitwithoutreallytalkingaboutit,tojoke-ifyit."YouknowIreadinUSNewsandWorldReportthatWillametteUniversityhasagoodmusicprogram,"Adamtoldme."It’sinSalem,whichisapparentlygettinghipperbythemoment."
"Accordingtowho?Thegovernor?"Ireplied.
"Lizfoundsomegoodstuffatavintage-clothingstorethere.Andyouknow,oncethevintageplacescomein,thehipstersaren’tfarbehind."
"Youforget,I’mnotahipster,"Iremindedhim."Butspeakingof,maybeShootingStarshouldmovetoNewYork.Imean,it’stheheartofthepunkscene.TheRamones.Blondie."Mytonewasfrothyandflirtatious,anOscar-worthyperformance.
"Thatwasthirtyyearsago,"Adamsaid."AndevenifIwantedtomovetoNewYork,there’snowaytherestofthebandwould."HestaredmournfullyathisshoesandIrecognizedthejokingpartoftheconversationhadended.Mystomachlurched,anappetizerbeforethefullportionofheartacheIhadafeelingwasgoingtobeservedatsomepointsoon.
