Если я останусь

           Theclubsweresmoky,whichhurtmyeyesandmademyclothesstink.Thespeakerswerealwaysturnedupsohighthatthemusicblared,causingmyearsringsoloudlyafterwardthatthehigh-pitcheddronewouldactuallykeepmeup.I’dlieinbed,replayingtheawkwardnightandfeelingshittieraboutitwitheachplayback.

           "Don’ttellmeyou’regonnabackout,"Adamsaid,lookingequalpartshurtandirritated.

           "WhataboutTeddy?Wepromisedwe’dtakehimtrick-or-treating—"

           "Yeah,atfiveo’clock.Wedon’thavetobeattheshowuntilten.IdoubtevenMasterTedcouldtrick-or-treatforfivesolidhours.Soyouhavenoexcuse.Andyou’dbettergetagoodoutfittogetherbecauseI’mgoingtolookhot,inaneighteenth-centurykindofway."

           AfterAdamlefttogotoworkdeliveringpizzas,Ihadapitinmystomach.IwentupstairstopracticetheDvo?ákpieceProfessorChristiehadassignedme,andtoworkoutwhatwasbotheringme.Whydidn’tIlikehisshows?WasitbecauseShootingStarwasgettingpopularandIwasjealous?Didtheever-growingmassesofgirlgroupiesputmeoff?Thisseemedlikealogicalenoughexplanation,butitwasn’tit.

           AfterI’dplayedforabouttenminutes,itcametome:MyaversiontoAdam’sshowshadnothingtodowithmusicorgroupiesorenvy.Ithadtowiththedoubts.ThesamenigglingdoubtsIalwayshadaboutnotbelonging.