whispered.
I bit my lip and nodded, trying to hold back a smile. It was weird being mushy in front of Naomi.
She waited for him to leave before throwing herself on my bed. “Is he a good kisser?”
“I think so.”
Naomi stretched her legs over the side and gazed at the ceiling. “I bet he is. The sensitive types usually are.”
“I need to tell you something.” I clutched the comforter between my hands.
She exhaled sharply. “Look, I’m sorry. It was just so cute how excited you looked. I haven’t been that giddy over a kiss in a long time.”
“That isn’t it. I—”
Naomi sat up and crawled over to me. “Wait, don’t tell me.” She put a hand on each shoulder. “You and Justin are getting hitched in Vegas.”
“No! Can you be serious for a minute?”
She let go of my shoulders and collapsed back on the bed. “I got you out of garage sale hell. It’s Saturday. Your hot boyfriend is bringing us lunch. And you’re still finding reason to be a downer.”
“He’s not my—”
“He’s not your boyfriend, I know. You guys just smooch and hang out almost every day. And he talks about you like you’re a goddess.”
“He does?”
She looked up at me. “Uh-huh. He got
“Not really.”
“And he talked about how smart and awesome you are. It was kind of sickening. I don’t think a guy has ever called me smart. I usually get ‘Hey, baby, yer hot.’”
I lay down next to her. “Because you date jerks.”
“Guys like Justin aren’t interested in girls like me. I’ve never been smart or arty enough. I’m not an endless source of music trivia, and I don’t hate everything on the radio. Oh, well. Bad boys are more exciting anyway.”
“Even when they call you a psycho bitch and hit you?”
“I said something really messed up about his family. Something I knew would hurt him.”
“He hit you, Naomi.”
“Can we talk about something else?”
I propped myself on my elbow and stared down at her. “Don’t go back to him. You promised.”
She sat up. “I’m not, okay? Just shut up about him already.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Because you won’t drop it!” She ran her hands through her messy hair. “You’re just sitting there and judging me. It’s so easy for you. You don’t even know—”
Justin opened the door upstairs. “Food’s here. Come up when you guys are ready.”
Naomi hopped up and ran for the stairs. “Good, I’m starving!”
“Wait,” I called after her. “We need to finish talking.”
She spun around, a dark look in her eyes. “It’s a nice day, Drea. Quit trying to ruin it.”
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After lunch we decided to walk around downtown Bellingham and film random things. Naomi gave us a guided tour around the pint-sized area. She interviewed various people we passed, asking them to list their favorite places. Most picked the bay, trails, or parks, and a few chose Railroad Avenue. But one person said jail and another said “wherever the pigeons hang out.” Not everyone was sober. We left with plenty of interesting footage.
When we got back to my house, we looked at the music sites I had uploaded “Invisible” to. There were several comments—all of them very complimentary. People raved about Naomi’s voice, saying she sounded like an angel.
Naomi smiled and covered her face. “I figured people would hate my voice.”
“Why would you think that?” Justin asked. “You’ve got more raw talent than anyone I’ve ever met. You haven’t even had any lessons, right?”
“Just years in my shower.”
I scrolled down the comments, reading them over again. “This one says, ‘Why isn’t this song on the radio? Very catchy tune with great production and an incredible vocalist. Who is this girl, and how can I get her to sing on my tracks?’”
Naomi’s ears turned red. “Wow.”
“I’ve played this song sixteen times,” I continued reading. “And that piano melody haunts me every time. Beautiful.”
Justin smiled. “We’ve got our amazing producer to thank.”
