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She didn’t like his patronizing tone.
“In Philadelphia, tickets went for seven hundred and fifty dollars,” she said, trying to show that she knew a thing or two.
“Where’d you hear that?”
“I don’t know,” Kaira said, suddenly feeling defensive. “On the radio, I think.”
He smirked at her. “I planted that story,” he boasted. “You didn’t even sell out in Philly.” He pointed to his big, fat head and said, “El Genius at work.”
Kaira felt foolish.
“The most important thing in this business isn’t talent,” he told her. “It’s all about hype. Hype and buzz.”
“Well, it still makes me mad that ticket scalpers make the money instead of me.”
“You let me worry about the business end of things. You just keep singing and shaking that sexy little body.”
“Listen to what Jerome tells you,” said Kaira’s mother. She gave her husband a kiss on his puffy cheek. “He’s made you what you are.”
5
X-Ray picked Armpit up at four o’clock in the morning, and they drove to the Lonestar Arena. “Anything in the first row is pure gold,” he said. “Pure gold. The second row too. Anything in the first two rows.”
Armpit brought his economics book along. He knew he’d probably miss speech, but there was a test in econ and he couldn’t afford to miss that.
When they pulled into the parking lot, they saw that a line had already formed at the ticket window. Tickets wouldn’t go on sale until eight o’clock.
“Man, I told you we should have spent the night here,” X-Ray said.
“You never said that.”
“Well, I thought it.”
They got in line. There were already twenty-nine people ahead of them in line. X-Ray counted it twice.
Armpit lay on his back in the gravel parking lot with his eyes closed. His economics book was his pillow. He planned to study when there was enough light. A piece of gravel dug into his back, but the more he tried to smooth it out the worse it got, so he did his best to ignore it.
Somebody in line had brought a boom box, and The Fountain of Youth, Kaira DeLeon’s CD, was playing. Armpit was lying there, his eyes closed, only half listening, when he suddenly heard her sing:
These shoes, these jewels, this dress,
A perfect picture of success.
Oh, you would never guess, Armpit,
A damsel in distress.
At least, that was what it sounded like.
Save me, Armpit!
A damsel in distress.
He sat up. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” asked X-Ray.
“Never mind.”
