Rydell ’ High Quotes

I don’t recall agreeing to anything long term, and I think it would have stuck with me if you’d asked me to go steady!” The amused look returned, accompanied by a subtle quirk of his lips. “You would have preferred if I had asked you to wear my class ring? Of perhaps given you my athletic jacket?” She looked at him incredulously. “Where do you think we are? Rydell High in 1957?

The sounds he coaxed from the guitar caught Rydell in the pit of his stomach, as surely as Creedmore had sucker-punched that security man: they sounded the way rosin feels on your fingers in a poolroom and made Rydell think of tricks with glass rods and the skins of cats. Somewhere inside the fat looping slack of that sound, something gorgeously, nastily tight was being figured out. The bar, not crowded at this time of day but far from empty, had gone absolutely silent under the scraping, looping expressions of Shoats’ guitar, and then Creedmore began to sing, something high and quavering and dirge-like. And Creedmore sang about a train pulling out of a station, about the two lights on the back of it: how the blue light was his baby. How the red light was his mind.