Free Lost Stars by Lisa Selin Davis Page B

supposed to actually do that?” I asked. “I don’t remember any of us actually having skills other than guitar playing. And even Tommy can’t really do that.”
    In a way I was glad a construction project was going to preempt our normal hangouts. I didn’t want to see Dean again after that night. I mean, of course, I wanted to see him again. I just didn’t want him to see me. I wanted to see him if I could place a few droplets of some memory-loss serum into his nonalcoholic drink so he’d forget my special hugging session with the toilet.
    â€œYou are,” Soo said. “Aren’t you a construction worker now?”
    â€œI failed the shovel test,” I said.
    â€œJust joking. Dean is super handy. He’s going to the hardware store to get all this stuff, and he’s going to show us what to do.”
    â€œOh,” I said. “Well, you guys have fun.”
    â€œ
Us,
” Soo said. “You’re coming too.”
    Â 
    And that’s how I came to park my bike in front of Soo’s on Saturday morning, next to the five cars in the driveway: Soo’s mom’s Pontiac Firebird convertible (the one we’d taken out and driven around with the top down on several nights after Soo’s mom was “asleep,” aka passed out), Soo’s Le Car, Tommy’s BMW, Tiger’s Volkswagen Rabbit, and a dusty old green Jeep that I didn’t recognize. Well, I almost didn’t recognize it. Its form was vaguely familiar—​I’d seen it behind our fence.
    The gang was gathered in the basement, staring at a giant bucket of something called Noiseproofing Blue Glue and a bunch of big, floppy sheets of foam. I pretended not to notice the presence of the world’s most beautiful boy, but then the beautiful boy started explaining the principles of soundproofing, because the world’s most beautiful boy was also handy, which made him even more beautiful.
    â€œSo, in the ideal world, we’d install additional fiberglass insulation, preferably with a higher R-value” he was saying. Tiger and Tommy nodded as if they were actual men who understood what Dean was saying. “But I don’t think Soo’s mom wants us to expose to the studs, and we probably can’t decouple the drywall, so we’re just going with damping the sound.”
    â€œSo, just pour some Coke on it?” I asked. He was forced to look at me, a confused smile taking over his face. “You said ‘damp’ it, right?”
    Oh, crap. I was once again in the flat-joke zone. I wanted to hide in the walls with the low-level R-value, or whatever he’d said.
    â€œMountain Dew would probably work better, but in the meantime I was gonna go with putting this up to absorb the sound,” he said, holding up a layer of the charcoal-colored foam. “So, we have to apply this compound over the walls, hold the foam in place with a staple gun. We also have to do the door—​we have to put a layer of MDF over it with the blue glue sandwiched in between.”
    Maybe we needed Tonya to get this done. Or someone who spoke Dean’s language?
    â€œSo, yeah, we should do it in twos,” Dean said. “Um, Greta, why don’t you and Tiger do the back wall—​you can apply the glue and Tiger can do the stapling.”
    â€œThat’s such a girl’s job,” said Greta. “I can use a staple gun.”
    â€œOkay, you staple, he’ll glue. And Justin and Soo can start on the stereo wall.”
    â€œIt’ll probably take half the day just to take the records off the shelf,” Soo said.
    â€œIt’ll be worth it, babe,” Justin said. I refrained from the fake vomit sound this time.
    â€œSo what should Carrie and I do?” Tommy asked. Shit. Crap. I was not getting picked for the right kickball team.
    â€œOh, well, Carrie’s going to help me with the door,” Dean said. We must have suddenly