Free The Secrets of Attraction by Robin Constantine

me.
    â€œDuncan’s new band?” Daisy asked.
    T and I did synchronized head-whips toward her.
    â€œWhat?” I asked.
    â€œHannah broke up with you, not me,” she said, smirking. “We talk.”
    In Tanner’s presence she turned from lil’ sis back to devil’s minion. I glared at her. She grabbed her tablet from the coffee table and slumped on the couch.
    â€œWhat else do you talk about?” I asked.
    She shrugged as she searched out yet another Minecraft video to watch.
    â€œOh, and Dad said if you got up before he got back, you should start the coffee.”
    Does Hannah say anything about me? was on the tip of my tongue but Daisy was already lost in YouTube Land and well, Tanner, my Forget-about-Hannah sponsor, was there, watching. I walked into the kitchen, motioning for Tanner to follow me.
    â€œWhat is this about Plasma now?” I asked, filling up the coffeepot with water.
    Tanner leaned against the counter, pulled off his toboggan hat. “They’re playing a dance at Sacred Heart next Friday. I think we should go.”
    I put a filter in the coffeemaker and popped the lid off the ginormous can of cheap coffee Dad insisted on buying from Costco. At least it was still fresh, the familiar robust aroma of coffee releasing into the air. Nothing like the smell of our Mugshot brews, but it made me think of Madison. Madison? She drinks chai. Why would I dream about her telling me to give Duncan the song? Why would I dream about her at all?
    â€œAww, Tanner, I’m touched. Are you asking me to the dance?”
    â€œWe’re hoooome,” my dad announced, followed by quick little steps galloping into the kitchen.
    â€œTeeeee!”
    â€œTyyyyy!” Tanner said, opening his arms to my little brother. He crouched down and held up his hand.
    â€œSlap me high, little man.”
    Tyler reached up and whacked Tanner’s outstretched palm.
    â€œSlap me low, too slow,” T said, lowering his hand and then pulling it out before Tyler could slap it, sending him into a fit of hysterical laughter. In my little brother’s eyes, Tanner was the bomb. Same mentality. Tyler wrestled out of his coat and left it on the kitchen floor as he ran out to haunt Daisy.
    â€œTo what do we owe this pleasure?” my dad asked T.
    â€œTanner asked Jesse to a dance,” Daisy yelled from the couch.
    â€œWell, good to see you two getting along,” my father said, crouching down to pick up Tyler’s coat. He put the bag of bagels on the table, and walked off to the closet.
    â€œFor a recon mission, Mr. McMann,” Tanner called after him. “Duncan is going to be playing with the new band.” He pulled out a chair from the table and rummaged through the bag, taking out a salt bagel. I grabbed some silverware and the cream cheese and slid it over to him.
    â€œButter?” he said.
    I grabbed the butter out of the fridge and sat across from Tanner. “You did not come here to mooch a bagel. Is Plasma playing a dance something you couldn’t tell me at noon?”
    â€œAh, checking out the competition, classic move,” my dad said, walking back into the kitchen, Tyler in tow. Dad settled Ty into his high chair and took the seat next to him.
    â€œI couldn’t sleep. I think we need to choose a drummer, today.”
    â€œWe’ve got time,” I said, grabbing my own salt bagel.
    â€œHow are the prospects?” Dad asked.
    â€œTwo guys . . . hard to choose . . .” Tanner said between bites.
    The guy who’d come in after Grayson was good too but he’d been the first drummer for Plasma, not the one that Duncan replaced—Kenny Ashe went through drummers pretty quickly. There was something that didn’t feel right about him, though. Technically he was incredible, and he had more experience than Grayson, but choosing him . . . I don’t know, it felt like it would just drag us down into weird