Read Online Ace's Basement by Ted Staunton - Free Book Online Page B

two-by-four with a pencil, sticks the pencil behind his ear and stands up. It’s a better visual, believe me. Then he chuckles and says, “Or maybe not. When I was in Razorburn, we tried to make a video. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.”
    Razorburn was Chuck’s band. They played country rock. He stoops and grabs the two-by-four. I get to enjoy more plumber’s butt. Then he moves to his portable workbench and picks up the circular saw.
    That’s when my mom gets home. She has pizza with her. She gets me to help make salad, and then, as we all eat, Chuck tells her about Denny’s video idea. Naturally, she has a million suggestions. All of them are bad.
    â€œYou know what you could do,” she says, “is have you and Lisa both singing, with your heads in profile next to one another, like, you know—oh, whose video was it?”
    â€œABBA,” I say. It’s one of my favorite bad videos to laugh at.
    â€œRight.” Mom is all excited. “And you could—”
    Oh, please. I nod and pretend I’m listening. Really, I’m talking to myself again. Text Lisa. I chew slower and answer: Grade-ten girls don’t hang with grade-nine guys, even if they do play music together. I know this is a law of the universe—or of high school, at least. High school and the universe are the same thing if you are fourteen.
    It doesn’t have to be a law, I say to myself. Didn’t you hear how worried she sounded when she asked if you were all right? Do it. Don’t be a chicken.
    I’m going to do it. I put down my pizza and pull out my phone. Mom says, “Hey, mister, no phones at the table, remember?” At that exact instant, her BlackBerry rings and she jumps up. “Except for this one call,” Mom says.
    Chuck takes salad. I power my phone to text Lisa. The pizza has gone dry in my mouth. I’m going to do it. I’m going to text her this time. But first I see a message from Denny: want 2c doomaster 2nite can pick u up @ 8.
    Oh, wow. Doom Master . It’s a new 3-D blockbuster movie. It’s based on our favorite action-hero toy from when Denny and I were little. This is opening night, so everybody will be going. Lisa will probably even be there. That would solve everything. I text Denny back: cool c u @ 8.
    I can always ask Lisa next time.

Chapter Three
    Lisa isn’t at the movie. When I accidentally-on-purpose go by Bargain Village on Saturday, she’s on a break. I don’t see her till lunch on Monday, when we meet in the music room at school. The music teacher lets us use the school’s equipment to mix our recording of “Coming Apart at the Dreams.” It’s a good thing Lisa takes music. Next year I will, for sure.
    â€œ I could trip, I could—” Lisa clicks the computer mouse at two minutes and thirty-seven seconds. We’re at the repeat of the first verse. The whole song is only three minutes and twelve seconds.
    â€œRight there,” she says. “My voice sounds so lame there.”
    â€œNo, it doesn’t,” I say. “We’ve talked about this before, Lee.”
    Lisa’s family calls her Lee. After she phoned me one time and said, “Hi, it’s Lee,” I figured it was cool if I used it too. I still get a little nervous when I do though.
    â€œBut I’m flat,” Lisa complains.
    â€œNo, you’re not. We checked, remember? It just needs to sound stronger.”
    â€œMaybe we should double the vocal,” Lisa says.
    â€œYou’re going to sing it again?”
    â€œNo, no. With this program I can copy the vocal to another track and play them both. Wait.”
    She starts pointing and clicking the mouse again. Screens blink past us. How cool is this? I think. I’m sitting here mixing a song that I cowrote with Lisa, who I get to call Lee. And she is older than me and gorgeous and in a duo called Two with me, and I’m talking and not