Preview: “Jukebox”

“Who’s got a quarter for the jukebox?” Jonas was the one who asked, because he rarely had any money on him, and was always borrowing a buck here or there from someone. Everyone anticipated it, after four years of high school, and no one seemed to care as they reached into their pockets and purses to see what they could scrounge up. 

“I got one,” Connor said, and Nikki rolled her eyes. 

She said, “Of course you do.”

Any other night, Connor would have let it go, but they had just left prom, and tomorrow they were graduating, and after four years of putting up with Nikki’s shit, he decided he had enough. 

He pushed away from the table—more abruptly than Melody expected, and she, half-baked from the joint they passed in the parking lot before prom, jolted up in her seat—and held the prized quarter between his fingers, above his head, like an offering to the music gods. 

“Wait, man, what are you doing?” Jonas asked, his eyes on the quarter as it crossed the diner, passing their classmates—also dressed in tuxedos and taffeta—and the few late night folks who made the sorry mistake of stopping by the diner on prom night. 

“I’m gonna pick a song,” Connor said, making way for a waitress in a blue dress carrying a tray of sodas and milkshakes, as he walked to the jukebox. 

“No, no, no—” Jonas got up and clamored away from the table, passing by the waitress who luckily by then had already delivered the drinks to their proper imbibers and was safe from Jonas’s mad dash to stop Connor and the quarter. 

It was too late. Connor slipped the coin into the slot, bringing the jukebox to life, its neon lights glowing with promises, the worn keypad ready to accept any request. 

“Connor,” Jonas’s voice took a solemn tone, the tone reserved for negotiating hostage encounters, or talking someone off a ledge. “This is a sacred choice you are about to make. This, more than any other song you heard tonight or any Top 40 song played repeatedly on the radio—”

“We don’t listen to the radio—”

“—shall be the song that defines your high school career—our high school career.” Jonas opened his arms, gesturing toward the diner full of their classmates who, by then, were accustomed to his antics, but still observed them. Jonas gripped Connor’s shoulders and asked, “Are you truly prepared to make this choice?”

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