Free Ashes to Ashes by Jenny Han Page B

all sound like?”
    I start talking fast. “Fine. I’m only being critical like this because this is an application process, and the people who are going to listen—”
    â€œJust say it!”
    â€œThey all sound like junior high love songs about Lillia Cho, dude.”
    Alex’s mouth drops open, and his whole face turns bright-ass red. “What?”
    I start ticking points off on my fingers. “The first one was about a black-haired girl who comes to your window at night. The next, a dark-haired girl who doesn’t know you exist.”
    â€œNow, wait a second, Kat. I—”
    I don’t wait a second. I keep going. “And what was that lastone? A rich girl who holds your hand on the gritty streets of Boston? I’m sorry but . . . seriously?”
    He stands up fast, so fast that the stool tips backward onto the floor. Alex’s eyes are stormy, and he has them lasered on me. “I know you don’t like Lillia for whatever happened between you guys in the past, but I’d appreciate it if you could try to be objective and keep your comments about the song and not the person.”
    The hell? “Excuse me, Alex, but Lillia and I are actually cool with each other. This isn’t about her. It’s about you showing some range. I’m trying to help you, remember?”
    â€œI have other songs.” He picks up his notebook and holds it out. “I have a whole notebook full.”
    I shrug. “Great. Can’t wait to hear one.”
    Alex flips through a few pages and then frowns.
    â€œHa!” I give my knee a slap. “I knew it!”
    â€œIt’s not that.” He lets out a deep sigh as he turns around and rights the fallen stool. “Shit,” he says under his breath, and plops down onto it. “It’s pretty much exactly that.”
    I see his confidence wavering, and it makes me feel like a dick. I shouldn’t have called his music “junior high.” That was messed up. “Look. It’s not that your songs aren’t good. They are. They’re sincere and, um, heartfelt. Which is Alex Lind to a T! But thematically speaking, they do sound the same.”
    â€œForget it, Kat. Don’t blow smoke up my ass.” Alex flops into the chair. “And if you and Lillia really are friends, then you must know if something’s going on with her and Reeve.”
    I force a swallow. “What do you wanna know?”
    â€œThey left the New Year’s Eve party together.” He won’t look at me when he adds, “Plus, Lil told me they did kiss before. I mean, she said she regretted it, but—”
    â€œShe does regret it,” I correct.
    â€œI get this weird vibe from them lately. I don’t know.”
    Lillia definitely doesn’t want anyone to think she’s dating Reeve, because she’s not. A couple of random grief hookups do not a relationship make. But I can’t tell him they aren’t together either. Not after my conversation with Lillia. “Are you pissed?”
    â€œI mean, yeah, I’m not happy with Reeve. He’s my best friend. Was my best friend. Shit. I don’t even know.”
    Oh Lord. I don’t want to have a Lillia therapy session with Alex right now. I try to keep him focused on the task at hand. I tap the letter from USC and say, “Here’s what you need to do. Pick your favorite one of those last three songs, and then round out your demo with two others that sound different.”
    â€œActually, there is something new I’ve been working on.” He picks his guitar back up, opens his notebook, and flips to one of the last pages. “It’s rough, but it’s starting to come together. . . .”
    The first three songs were super-quiet and whispery, but thisone explodes from the first note and fills the whole room with sound. Alex’s hands are flying over the strings of his guitar, and it’s