poems had been。 Thinking they'd both go to NYU next year and live happily ever after； Dan had
moved in with Vanessa only a few days before。 Butt heir relationship had quickly deteriorated。
More depressed than usual； Dan had been sitting in a corner during the party； chugging Grey
Goose vodka straight out of the bottle。 Meanwhile； the Raves showed up at the party and their lead
guitarist； Damian Polk； stumbled upon a stack of black notebooks filled with Dan's poetry。
Damian and his band members had gone crazy over the poems； insisting they would work
perfectly as lyrics。 Their lead singer had just mysteriously quit… rehab anyone？ … and so they
decided to ask Dan to be their front man。 By then Dan was just piss drunk and thought the whole
thing was totally hilarious。 Throwing himself into the task with drunken fervor； he'd stolen the
show； electrifying drunken partiers with his brazen performance。
He thought his was a one time deal； a way of distracting himself from the fact that he'd just broken
up with the only girl who'd ever loved him。 The next day he discovered he was card…carrying
member of the band； and pletely in over his head。
During rehearsals Dan found that his normally sober self was physically incapable of putting out
the same reckless energy that he'd had at the party； and； pared to the other band members； who
were all in their twenties and wore clothes tailor…made for them by avant…garde designers like
Pisolcock and Better Than Naked； he felt like a geeky； squeaky little kid。 He'd even asked Damian
Polk why in the hell the Raves wanted him to be their lead singer in the first place。 Damian had
replied simple； 〃It's all about the words； man。〃
Dude； just because he could write them didn't mean he could sing。 But maybe if he looked more
like he could sing； he might actually convince people that he deserved to be in the band。
Dan shuffled through his messy desk drawers searching for the battery…operated beard trimmer
he'd bought last year during a week of experimenting with the length of his side…burns。 He moved
on to his little sister Jenny's room； and finally found it under her bed； inexplicably rolled up inside
and old pink bath towel。
Little sister lesson number one： If you want to keep your shit； put a padlock on your door。
Not bothering to return to his own room； he went over to the mirror on the back of Jenny's closet
door and tugged at the outgrown Mr。 Trendy Artiste haircut he'd gotten soon after he'd made his
switch from bohemian poet to gritty rock star； it was time for a change。
Eek！ Doesn't everyone know not to try a new look the day before a big event？
The trimmer buzzed to life and Dan began shaving the back of his neck； watching the light brown
strands gather on the faded chocolate…colored carpet in mousy clumps。 Then he stopped； worried
all of a sudden that a beard trimmer didn't have exactly the right sort of blades the shave one's
entire head with。 It might leave weird red track marks all over his skull； or shave his head
unevenly so that it looked like his hair had been eaten rather than cut。
Sure he wanted to look hard…core； but not chewed…head hard…core。
He debated whether or not to continue。 If he stopped now； the shaved parts could be pletely
concealed by the rest of his hair until he bent over； and then； voila… a shaved neck。 It was kinda
cool knowing the shaved part was there without being able to see it。 Then again； an unnoticeable
hair…cut wasn't exactly the look he was going for。
He put the beard trimmer down； propped a Camel between his lips； and reached for Jenny's phone。
If there was one person who knew anything about shaving heads； it was Vanessa。 She'd kept her
own head shaved sine the ninth grade； and； shunning the expensive salons like Frederic Fekkai
and Elizabeth Arden's Red Door that her coiffed classmates frequented； insisted on shaving it
herself。 Secretly he's always thought she looked prettier with a little more hair； but she obviously
thought she looked great bald； he wasn't about to say anything。
〃If this is about the apartment…share； I will be calling you once I've reviewed your online
application；〃 Vanessa said robotically when she picked up。
〃Hey； it's me； Dan；〃 Dan responded brightly。 〃What's up？〃
Vanessa didn't answer right away。 She wanted to give Dan space to grow and blossom into the
next Kurt Cobain or John Keats or whatever the fuck he weanted to be； but breaking up with her
and kicking him out of her apartment hadn't been exactly been easy for her。 The casual
lets…be…friends tone in Dan's voice made her heart feel like a deflated balloon。
〃I'm kind of busy actually。〃 She typed a bunch of nonsense into her puter to make it sound
like she was drastically preoccupied。 〃I have a lot of applications to go through… for the new
roommate… you know？〃
〃Oh。〃 Dan hadn't been aware that Vanessa was looking for a roommate。 Then again； with her older
sister Ruby gone on tour with her band； it would be kind of lonely and boring living all alone in
the apartment； especially without him to keep her pany。
For a fleeting moment Dan was so overe with regret he felt like grabbing a pen and writing a
tragic breakup poem using the words cut or shaved； but then his newly shorn neck began to burn
and prickle； and he remembered why he'd called Vanessa in the first place。
〃I just had a quick question。〃 He took several quick puffs of his cigarette and then absentmindedly
dropped it into a vase of daisies wilting on Jenny's desk。 〃You know when you shave your head？
Is there like； a certain kind of razor you use？ Like a certain blade？〃
Vanessa's first impulse was to warn him that with a shaved head he'd look like a skinny
seven…year…old leukemia patient who'd just been through chemo； but she was tired of protecting
him from his own mistakes； especially now that they were 〃just friends。〃 〃Wahl blade number ten。
Look； I gotta go。〃
Dan picked up his beard trimmer。 It was from CVS and didn't have a blade size。 Maybe he'd be
better going to a barber。 〃Okay。 See you at my gig tomorrow night though； right？〃
〃Maybe；〃 Vanessa replied breezily。 〃If I get this roommate thing figured out。 Gotta go。 'Bye！〃
Dan hung up and picked up the beard trimmer once more。 〃Crack me like an egg！〃 he shouted；
holding it in front of his chin like a microphone。 He whipped off his t…shirt and struck out his pale；
skinny gut； trying to look saucily bored and rebellious； like a shorter； thinner； less…fucked…up Jim
Morrison。 〃Crack me like an egg！〃 he wailed； falling on his knees。
His dad； Rufus； suddenly appeared in the doorway； wearing a cigarette burned gray Old Navy
sweatshirt and the pink terrycloth headband that Jenny used to keep her hair back hen she washed
her face。 〃Good thing your sister's too busy to hang out with us after school anymore。 She might
not be too thrilled to find you stripping in her room；〃 he mented。
〃I'm rehearsing。〃 Dan rose to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster。 〃Do you mind？〃
〃Go right ahead。〃 Rufus stood in the doorway； scratching his chest fingering the unfiltered Camel
tucked behind his left ear。 He was a work…at…home single dad； the editor of lesser…known Beat
poets and esoteric writers no one had ever heard of。 〃I think if you put the emphasis on every other
word； it might be more effective/〃
Dan cocked his head and handed Rufus the beard trimmer。 〃Show me。〃
Rufus Grinned。 〃Okay but I'm not taking my shirt off。〃
Thank the Lord。
He held the beard trimmer away from his face as if worried that it might turn on by itself and buzz
off his famously unkempt beard。 〃Crack Me like an Egg！〃 he howled； his brown eyes gleaming。
He handed the trimmer。 〃Try it。〃
Of course Dan's dad had sounded just exactly the way Dan wanted to sound。 He tossed the
trimmer on to Jenny's bed and pulled his shirt back on。 〃I have homework to do；〃 he grumbled。
Rufus shrugged his shoulders。 〃Okay； I'll leave you alone。〃 He winked at his son。 〃Decide where
you want to go next year yet？〃
〃No；〃 Dan answered hollowly； then shuffled out of Jenny's roomand back in