Owen

I sat down and held my breath for a minute. Then I took a deep breath and turned to Annabel, "So. Did you listen?"

She seemed relieved that I spoke. She put her sandwich down quickly and turned to face me. "To your show?"

"Yeah."

"I did, actually." She nodded.

"And?"

She made a little face. "Well . . . it was . . . interesting."

Placeholder, I almost said. "Interesting," I repeated instead.

"Yeah. I'd, um, never heard those songs before."

I leaned forward, gazing at her, but she was too far away. I got to my feet and closed the distance between us and sitting right beside her. "Okay. Did you really listen?"

"Yeah," she appeared to be startled. Oops, "I did."

"I don't know if you remember, but you did tell me that you lie."

"I didn't say that."

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I said I often hold back the truth. I'm not doing that this time, though. I listened to the whole show."

I was still skeptical and she could tell.

She sighed, "'Jennifer' by Lipo. 'Descartes Dream' by Misanthrope. Some song with a lot of beeping—"

"You did listen." I sat back and nodded, pleased. "Okay, then. Tell me what you really thought."

"I told you. It was interesting."

"Interesting," I began slowly, "is not a word."

"Since when?"

"It's a placeholder. Something you use when you don't want to say something else." I couldn't help it, I leaned in closer to her. "Look, if you're worried about my feelings, don't be. You can say whatever you want. I won't be offended."

"I did. I liked it." But her face was knotted up, and I knew she was lying.

"Tell the truth. Say something. Anything. Just spit it out."

"I...I...I didn't like it."

I slapped my leg. "I knew it! You know, for someone who lies a lot, you're not very good at it."

She looked confused. "I'm not a liar."

Right. You're nice," I said the word like it was an insult.

"What's wrong with nice?"

"Nothing. Except it usually involves not telling the truth. Now. Tell me what you really thought."

"I liked the show format, but the songs were kind of..."

She trailed off, and I was suddenly desperate to know what came after the kind of. "Kind of what?" I wiggled my fingers at her. "Give me some adjectives. Other than interesting."

"Noisy," She said slowly, "bizarre."

"Okay. What else?"

She eyed me carefully, making sure my feelings weren't hurt. When she seemed satisfied, she continued. "Well, the first one was ... painful to listen to. And the second one, the Misanthrope one ..."

"'Descartes Dream.'"

"It put me to sleep. Literally."

"That happens," I agreed. "Go on."

"The harp music sounded like something you'd hear at a funeral."

"Ah," I tried to relate, and understood a little. "Okay. Good."

"And I hated the techno."

"All of it?" This seemed impossible to me.

"Yes."

"Well. Okay, then. That's good feedback. Thank you."

I pulled out my iPod and began going through my songs. I began finding the songs that we talked about and adding them to a playlist called "Annabel."

"So...you're okay with that?"

"That you didn't like the show?" Add song to playlist.

"Yeah."

Select Playlist. Annabel. I shrugged. "Sure. I mean, it would have been cool if you had. But most people don't, so it's not exactly surprising."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

I scrolled through the playlist, making sure all of the songs we discussed were on it. "Not really. I mean, at first, it was kind of disappointing. But people recover from disappointment. Otherwise we'd all be hanging from nooses. Right?"

"What?"

I realized we skipped a song. "Hey, what about the sea shanty?" She just looked at me. "The men chanting about sailing the open sea. What did you think about that one?"

"Weird. Very weird."

"Weird. Huh. Okay."

I finished going through music and glanced at Annabel. Her face was pale, and she was looking at Sophie—the same girl she'd fought with on the first day I'd met her. Sophie and her friend eyed the two of us and laughed in that annoying way girls have. Annabel's face flushed and she looked at her feet. I pulled my hand through my hair and pretended not to notice the girls.

"So you didn't like any of the techno?" I offered, trying to distract her. She looked like she might get sick again, just like that first day. "Like, not even one aspect?"

She shook her head. "No. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's your opinion. There's no right and wrong in music, you know? Just everything in between."

The bell rang, and I had to say that I was extremely disappointed. I hopped off the wall, putting away my iPod and grabbing my earbuds.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around." She sounded as upset as I felt.

"Yeah. See you later."

I took a deep breath and walked away. I could feel eyes on me as I left. Of course people would stare. Annabel is beautiful. And I went to jail, and I was in anger management, and I'm the freak no one talks to. But it doesn't matter. Because no matter what Sophie or anyone else thinks, Annabel doesn't think of herself as better than me, and we just might be friends.