AllFreeNovel
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I tilt my head, trying to figure out where I’ve heard it before.
“If you don’t recognize Garth, then you are definitely not a country fan. Okay, what about …”
Duh-nuh-nuh, chicka-chicka, duh nuh-nuh …
The opening notes of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Nirvana have me smiling and bobbing my head immediately.
“Actually, that doesn’t help at all. Everybody loves Nirvana.” Wes grins.
“What did people request the most?” I ask, wanting a little glimpse into Wes’s life before the world fell apart.
I want to pretend like I’m a beautiful college student studying abroad, and he’s a beautiful street musician sitting on a fountain in front of the Pantheon.
“I dunno. Whatever was popular. I can’t even tell you how many times I had to play ‘Call Me Maybe.’" Wes smiles. “But it was classic rock that got everybody singing—and more importantly, tipping. It didn’t matter if they were young, old, rich, poor, or if they even spoke English. If I played The Beatles, The Stones, Journey, The Eagles … I made fuckin’ bank, and everybody walked away from my fountain happy.”
Happy. There’s that word again.
“Will you play me one?”
Wes eyes me up and down while the jukebox catalog in his head flips to the perfect song. Then, with a smirk, he says, “I got it.”
Chicka duh nuh-nuh nuh-nuh, duh nuh-nuh …
My eyes light up, and my heart overflows as he plays a simple song about an American girl raised on promises, trying to find someplace in this great, big world where she can hide from her pain.
“I love it.” I smile, swallowing back the lump in my throat.
“Tom Petty.” He shakes his head. “Goddamn genius.”
Lifting his eyes, Wes tips his chin at something over my shoulder.
“Sup?”
My heart stops, but when I turn around, it’s not Q and her crew; it’s Quint and Lamar, tiptoeing toward us from the food court.
“Guess it’s safe to go back into the tux shop now,” Lamar jokes.
“You can hang out, if you want.” Wes gestures toward the blanket on the floor that I refuse to look at. “We’re just trying to figure out Rain’s favorite song.”
Lamar and Quint share some kind of silent brotherly communication.
Then, Lamar speaks up, “Ahh … fuck it. Ain’t nothin’ to do in the shop ’cept stare at this ugly motherfucker all night. We’ll chill with y’all.”
Quint shrugs, and Lamar helps him over to the blanket. Holding him from behind, Lamar helps Quint ease down into the sitting position without having to move his head. It makes my heart swell so much to see Lamar stepping up to help his brother that I don’t even realize I’m looking at the blanket until both of them are sitting on it.
My eyes go wide as I jerk my gaze back to Wes’s smug expression.
Oh, you think you’re soooo smart.
Wes gives my thigh a little squeeze. Then, he turns his attention back on the Jones brothers.
“Do you guys know what Rain likes to listen to?”
“‘Free Birrrrrrd’!” somebody shouts from up above us. Actually, two somebodies.
My head snaps up to find Brangelina standing at the top of the broken escalator with their fists in the air. They stomp down the metal stairs and take a seat halfway down.
“No, no, no!” Not Brad shouts. “I wanna hear …” He switches to his hip-hop voice. “I did it all for the nookie!”
