her life? Live vicariously through Kim and Sean? Had Aaron (she winced at the name) taken everything from her? Cadbury leapt up at her with his toy hanging out of his mouth.
“I can do this,” Elly confirmed to herself. “I can be hot.”
Ten minutes later she was still staring at her closet, trying to find something that wasn’t even hot, just mildly attractive. Designing flowers was hot, messy and wet. She mostly wore tank tops and shorts, or, when she was alone in the studio, a camisole and underwear. Finally, she found a sheer black and white polka dot top, low in the front, and pulled that over a black tank top. She had one pair of slim khakis and slipped those on with some black flip flops. Her curly hair was unmanageable, so she pulled it back loosely with some bobby pins, put on some lip gloss and mascara and slipped out the back door.
A narrow walkway lined the apartments above Wydown Street, connecting them all through a series of fire escapes and tiny patios. She had been outside for barely a minute when she headed up to the apartment above Keith’s deli. As she lingered in front of the door, she smelled warm bread. It was both comforting and annoying – she was on the way to a party, thrown by a gorgeous man and now she was hungry. Thanks, Keith , she noted, annoyed. She arrived at the door, which was plastered with various band posters . Okay, Elly, breathe, she told herself. Please let me not embarrass myself. She closed her eyes and knocked on the door.
CHAPTER
FIVE
The door swung open, the handle grasped by a guy who was tall and very well dressed. Well, on the top anyway. He was wearing a white button down shirt and tuxedo jacket with ripped jeans.
“Heyyy,” he mumbled, obviously confused. He placed his arm across the door. “Are you here to pick up Jules?” Elly gulped.
“Um, what?”
“Are you her Mom?”
“No, no, I’m not. Is Isaac here?”
The guy dropped his arm from blocking the party and shouted, “Isaac… some girl’s mom is here to see you!!”
Some girl’s mom ….Elly instantly regretted not only her decision to come, but also her decision to wear khaki pants. She glanced down at her outfit, suddenly realizing how much she looked like a soccer mom. Isaac leaned around the corner, holding onto the wall. His face contorted into a wild, irresistible grin.
“Elly! You came! I’m so glad.”
He took her warm hand – a move which was both shocking and sudden – into his cool one, and led her into the living room. The walls were a deep mustard color with a shabbily done texturing overlay. Red and orange couches were pushed up against two walls under two large pencil drawings in black plastic frames. Some sort of inventive, experimental music blared loudly through the room. It sounded like Yanni, only with rapping over it. Three very pretty girls lounged on one couch, and two men sat on the other and were engaged in what seemed to be a rousing debate. A man wearing a tight black t-shirt was waving his arm wildly.
“Your wording is ambiguous on that point. The commercialization of radio music has made it obtuse to arguments of taste. A music aficionado, while being able to recommend music, underscores the people’s choice in the matter. It’s either those who choose independence from influence…”
A girl in some sort of hideous witch-like dress leaned forward.
“Or a normal human being. Gene, you can’t be elitist about the whole thing. Radio is for the people. But musicians and people who see the inner workings, they know the truth. It’s our responsibility to teach, to educate…”
Isaac stepped into the middle of the argument. “Okay, okay! Calm down! I would like to introduce everyone to my new neighbor. This is Elly.”
Elly held her hand up in a half-wave. Everyone stared at her, wine glasses in hand. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Elly, are you a musician?” asked a red headed girl with horn-rimmed glasses. She looked doubtful.
“No,
“I can do this,” Elly confirmed to herself. “I can be hot.”
Ten minutes later she was still staring at her closet, trying to find something that wasn’t even hot, just mildly attractive. Designing flowers was hot, messy and wet. She mostly wore tank tops and shorts, or, when she was alone in the studio, a camisole and underwear. Finally, she found a sheer black and white polka dot top, low in the front, and pulled that over a black tank top. She had one pair of slim khakis and slipped those on with some black flip flops. Her curly hair was unmanageable, so she pulled it back loosely with some bobby pins, put on some lip gloss and mascara and slipped out the back door.
A narrow walkway lined the apartments above Wydown Street, connecting them all through a series of fire escapes and tiny patios. She had been outside for barely a minute when she headed up to the apartment above Keith’s deli. As she lingered in front of the door, she smelled warm bread. It was both comforting and annoying – she was on the way to a party, thrown by a gorgeous man and now she was hungry. Thanks, Keith , she noted, annoyed. She arrived at the door, which was plastered with various band posters . Okay, Elly, breathe, she told herself. Please let me not embarrass myself. She closed her eyes and knocked on the door.
CHAPTER
FIVE
The door swung open, the handle grasped by a guy who was tall and very well dressed. Well, on the top anyway. He was wearing a white button down shirt and tuxedo jacket with ripped jeans.
“Heyyy,” he mumbled, obviously confused. He placed his arm across the door. “Are you here to pick up Jules?” Elly gulped.
“Um, what?”
“Are you her Mom?”
“No, no, I’m not. Is Isaac here?”
The guy dropped his arm from blocking the party and shouted, “Isaac… some girl’s mom is here to see you!!”
Some girl’s mom ….Elly instantly regretted not only her decision to come, but also her decision to wear khaki pants. She glanced down at her outfit, suddenly realizing how much she looked like a soccer mom. Isaac leaned around the corner, holding onto the wall. His face contorted into a wild, irresistible grin.
“Elly! You came! I’m so glad.”
He took her warm hand – a move which was both shocking and sudden – into his cool one, and led her into the living room. The walls were a deep mustard color with a shabbily done texturing overlay. Red and orange couches were pushed up against two walls under two large pencil drawings in black plastic frames. Some sort of inventive, experimental music blared loudly through the room. It sounded like Yanni, only with rapping over it. Three very pretty girls lounged on one couch, and two men sat on the other and were engaged in what seemed to be a rousing debate. A man wearing a tight black t-shirt was waving his arm wildly.
“Your wording is ambiguous on that point. The commercialization of radio music has made it obtuse to arguments of taste. A music aficionado, while being able to recommend music, underscores the people’s choice in the matter. It’s either those who choose independence from influence…”
A girl in some sort of hideous witch-like dress leaned forward.
“Or a normal human being. Gene, you can’t be elitist about the whole thing. Radio is for the people. But musicians and people who see the inner workings, they know the truth. It’s our responsibility to teach, to educate…”
Isaac stepped into the middle of the argument. “Okay, okay! Calm down! I would like to introduce everyone to my new neighbor. This is Elly.”
Elly held her hand up in a half-wave. Everyone stared at her, wine glasses in hand. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Elly, are you a musician?” asked a red headed girl with horn-rimmed glasses. She looked doubtful.
“No,
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