“Thanks.”
Mom and Dad hung around through dinner to make sure I was going to be alright before they headed to their hotel. Using an old phone of Addie’s, I talked to Gabe as well as the band’s agent and lawyer, and then I called my dad’s lawyer per his suggestion to get some outside representation on our side. Gabe and I agreed that no matter the consequences we weren’t doing this tour with Gio and Lowell.
Rebel Cry was done.
It was both devastating and a relief. Almost eight years we’d been a band. The first couple had been good, hell, better than good. They were amazing, but Lowell and Gio changed along the way. We all did, but those two were on a downward spiral and I wasn’t letting them take me along for the ride.
Addie said goodnight and went to bed not long after my parents left. She had an early morning flight. I was left to my own devices on her uncomfortable, but expensive ass couch. Gabe and I texted for a little while, and I let Nash and Jesse know what was going on. Aiden must have talked to my parents at some point, because he texted to check up on me too.
I thought about calling Kat, but everything was still too raw for me to be as patient as I needed to be to get through a conversation with her. When the phone finally went dark and silent, no more texts buzzing in, I just lay there, staring at it.
I don’t know what I was thinking when I turned the screen on and scrolled through the contacts. Or maybe I wasn’t thinking and that was why I pulled up Abbi’s number. It was eleven o’clock on a Friday night. A game night, so she was probably with her coach, and calling was a bad idea, but still I hit the call button, driven by the simple need to hear her voice.
It rang and rang, and I didn’t think she was going to pick up, but then she did. “Hello?”
“Hey, Abbi,” I breathed and closed my eyes.
“Uh, hey.”
The line grew quiet when I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. Hadn’t thought that far past her picking up.
“What’s going on, Abel? Why are you calling?”
“I don’t really know,” I exhaled, and then said, “Do you remember the first concert we ever went to? My Dad and the guys took us to that music festival, and there were all those huge bands there, but we slipped away to one of the smaller stages to watch that chick, I can’t even remember her name, do you remember it?”
“Abel, I can’t . . . this isn’t a good idea.”
“Her name’s not important,” I continued, because I had to. “She was just some local girl with a guitar, but she played that one song, about her brother who died in the army, and the whole crowd was just in awe. People were wiping away tears. You held me so tight while even you cried a tear or two. I remember it gave me goosebumps the way her song made me feel, and I told you I didn’t think I’d ever be able to write a song that good. You looked at me and you told me that I was going to change the world with my music. That I was going to move people and make them feel my music the same way that girl did. You told me that the world needed my voice, that what I had to say mattered. You told me that my music mattered.”
“What’s the point of this story?”
“She lost the baby.” The pain of saying it out loud hadn’t lessened any in the hours since I found out. The words still tore at my insides as I forced them out. “Katya lost the baby and now I’m so fucking lost, Abbi.”
Her words turned to a gasp, “Oh, God.”
“I wasn’t ready to be a dad. It wasn’t what I wanted, but now that I’m not . . . I don’t know that anything has ever felt worse than this.”
Several seconds of silence passed and then, “I’m so sorry, Abel. I wish I knew what to say right now, but I don’t.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” That was the beauty of it. “Just talking to you helps. It always did.”
“Abel,” she said weakly.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I’m not—this isn’t about us. It’s just that no matter how bad shit gets, how lost or turned upside down I feel, everything is right for a minute when I hear your voice. It’s like, if you’re still there, then the whole world can’t be wrong. And it’s enough. It’s enough to have you as a friend, Abbi. It’s enough for you to be a voice on the other line.”
“Always.”
I blew out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
Fourteen
Abbi
“I hope you all studied.” I grinned as my third period filed into the classroom. They stopped short when they took notice of the odd desk arrangement and looked at me. The room was divided, the desks split between the two sides of the room, facing each other.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard that we do quizzes a bit differently in this class, so when I call your name, take a seat on the side I indicate. Once the class is divided, you will have one minute to come up with a team name relevant to the subject material, and then our first World History quiz battle will begin. But first for the stakes. As long as every team member participates, your team will pass the quiz, but the winning team will be joining me in here for lunch tomorrow, catered by none other than Boston’s own Ernie.” Yes, I was referring to the Ernie that made amazing pizza. The kids grinned and looked between each other.
“But that’s not all,” I rubbed my hands together excitedly, “I have it on good authority that sweets from Anna Banana’s Bake Shop will also be provided. You heard that correctly! Lunch and dessert, in here, with me.” That got a few more grins and chuckles. I think mostly they were just happy about the part where they would all pass.
I held my hands up. “Settle down, settle down, I know you guys can hardly contain yourselves. I know the stakes are high and you all have your eyes on the prize, but let’s keep this battle civil. I don’t want to have to send another student to the infirmary. Headmaster Higgins might frown on that. Just kidding, students almost never die during quiz battle.” There were more chuckles, and I caught Aiden rolling his eyes, but then I began calling out the teams and they all hurried to their respective sides and began spitting out team names. Once they’d decided and I wrote the two teams on my rolling white board, I held my hand up to silence the class.
“A few more rules we need to go over before we get started.” I moved the rolling cart beside my desk to the center of the room, which had been cleared, and locked the wheels in place. “As you can see, we have a magic buzzer.” Really it was just one of those obnoxious buttons you press to trigger some funny line or sound. This one happened to sing or say lines from Disney movies. Gotta keep it PG in the classroom and all that.
“Round one, is head to head. You will be called on to face off against a classmate on the opposing team. First one to hit the buzzer and answer correctly gets the point for their team. If your team manages to get three in a row, you earn a bonus question which any member of your team can answer for the point. Round two, I like to call round robin, and here’s where it’s going to get a little crazy and I don’t want anyone getting hurt. I will read off the question and the first student to stand up in their seat, yes that’s right, you have permission to stand in your seats, not on the desktop though. Headmaster Higgins put the ixnay on standing on the desk tops last year after one very minor, hardly even worth mentioning, accident.” Robert Brady, a big linebacker of a student, may have, allegedly, broken a desk.
Okay, it wasn’t allegedly. He stood on the desk, it broke, he was uninjured, but it could have been worse, so no more climbing on desks, but I hadn’t been told they couldn’t climb on their seats. Yet. Headmaster Higgins knew today was a quiz Monday, and I was surprised she hadn’t poked her head in yet to check on things. But then again, maybe she wanted plausible deniability.
“Everyone got that? You will stand up on your chair and shout out the answer. If you are correct, your team will gain a point. If you’re wrong, your team loses a point, and gets a penalty. Three penalties and your entire team will be forced to do a little song and dance, song of course
chosen by me, during the homecoming assembly. Personally, I’m hoping you all get a lot wrong during round two. And then finally, we will enter into the final round of . . .” I paused for added suspense. “Sudden death! But really no one is going to die, I promise. Each team will select two champions to represent them. The first two champions will come forward and two minutes will be put on the clock. In those two minutes they will have to answer as many questions as possible. You get two passes, so don’t waste them. Then the clock will reset for the other team. The team that wins sudden death will walk away with the points for their team, possibly determining the outcome of the battle, so when the time comes, choose your champions wisely. Now can I get a drum roll, please!”
The kids started drumming their hands on the tops of their desks, the tempo building until everyone let out a wild yell and I raised my hands in the air and then brought them down, the ruckus cutting off and the room falling silent.
“Let the quiz battle begin,” I said gravely. “Take no prisoners and show no mercy, for none shall be shown to you.” I grabbed the stack of prepared round one questions pertaining to the ancient world and pointed at my first pair of opponents. “Bryce, Kiersten, what is another name for the Paleolithic era, and,” I held up my hand to stop them from jumping out of their seats before I finished the question, “why it is named such, and which era preceded it?” They both jumped up and raced for the magic buzzer and just like that the game was afoot.
Over the next thirty minutes, my room rang with the sounds of shouts and laughter, cheers and boos, stomping, clapping, desk smacking, and victorious celebration as the scores climbed and we moved from round to round.
This is why I became a teacher. To see kids excited about learning. I could have given them a paper quiz, and letter grades, but as they battled it out and followed my silly directives, I watched history come alive for them. Maybe, they wouldn’t take the random knowledge of the ancient world out into the modern one when they left this place, but just maybe the past would inspire them, teach them, grow them, and move them. Show them what humanity was capable of at both its best and worst. That was all I wanted.
We moved into round three with just six minutes of class to spare. The teams sent forth their elected champions, and I pulled out yet another surprise—the game had been filled with my fun little twists—and distributed four togas and laurel head wreaths. There were good natured groans and chuckles as they dressed, and then I chose the pair from Team Gladiator to go first.
The countdown began, and it was a rapid fire, back and forth, of questions and answers. The Gladiators racked up fourteen correct answers in their two minutes and then Team Sparta was up. Aiden was one of their chosen champions, and they currently led by four points. Round three could decide it all. I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t rooting for his team just a little extra.
Once again, I flipped the giant hourglass sand timer and began. “Name the first civilization in Mesopotamia.”
“The Sumerians!” Aiden shouted, and I cheered a little on the inside. Question after question he and his teammate pulled out correct answers, only using one of their passes. With what couldn’t have been more than ten seconds to spare, they were on the verge of their fifteenth point. If they got the question right, the round and the battle would be theirs.
“What four traits defined the Classical Period, otherwise known as the Golden Age?”
Aiden and Sam looked between each other and then Aiden shouted, “Umm, Art, Music, Literature, and . . . “
“And Architecture!” Sam cried jumping in the air as she did so.
“That is correct!” I cried. Team Sparta erupted into cheers. Aiden and Sam high fived, and I grinned proudly at all of my students.
“You all get A’s,” I shouted, just as the door to my classroom opened and I looked back to see Headmaster Higgins and Assistant Headmaster Tanner, grim faced as they stepped inside. The classroom quieted down instantly.
“What can I do for you? I promise no one was injured and no school property was damaged in today’s quiz battle.” Deep down I knew they weren’t here to reprimand me. Something else was wrong.
They approached, and Headmaster Higgins spoke softly. “I need you and Mr. McCabe to come with me. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.” My heart stopped inside my chest. “His parents are here, so I will let them tell you. Mr. Tanner will cover your class.”
A million horrible scenarios ran through my mind, and I barely managed to stutter out, “Um, okay. Yeah, my, uh, my TAs can help him. They know what to do, let me—let me just . . .” I spun around, seeking Aiden out. He was watching the exchange almost like he knew.
“Aiden,” my voice cracked. “Grab your things. We have to go.” His eyes widened, and he hurriedly grabbed his backpack. I collected my purse from my desk and then we both followed Headmaster Higgins to the main office. Partway there, the bell rang, and we had to weave our way against the current of bodies.
Please don’t let it be Abel.
I’d been so worried about him since I spoke to him on the phone the other night. He was so devastated. So . . . broken. What if he did something stupid like drink and drive again?
Aunt Jax and Uncle Ky were waiting in the office when we stepped inside. Aunt Jax had tears in her eyes and I’d never seen Uncle Ky look so solemn. It was bad. I didn’t even know what had happened, but I could feel my own tears welling up as my fear made it hard to swallow.
“Mom? Dad?” Aiden’s voice wobbled as he looked to them for explanation.
Aunt Jax’s expression crumpled even further as she strode over and took Aiden in her arms, wrenching him tight against her. “Mom, you’re scaring me. What happened?”
“There was an accident,” she choked out as she pulled away, keeping her hands on his arms. She tried to say more but struggled to get any words out. Uncle Ky walked over, resting his hand on his wife’s back. “It’s Molly and Amelia,” he said softly.
Oh God. My knees tried to give out.
“They were in a car accident,” Uncle Ky continued. “Jaime wasn’t with them, but they were hit by a drunk driver and they didn’t make it.”
Noooo!
Aunt Jax let out a gut-wrenching sob. I don’t think Aiden knew what to say, or couldn’t say anything. He just stood there in shock. Uncle Ky pulled him and Aunt Jax into his arms and held them tight. Aunt Jax’s head lifted and her eyes found mine. She held her arm out and I walked over on autopilot and fell against them.
I cried into her shoulder as she ran her hand up and down my back. Aiden squeezed one of my hands and didn’t let go, and Uncle Ky kept us all from crumbling right there.
How could this happen? Jaime and his family were just here. I held Amelia in my arms. She was so tiny and innocent. And now she was just gone. And Molly. She was so sweet and smart and feisty. Full of life and love for her family.
God, Jaime.
My heart cracked inside of my chest thinking of what he must be going through right now.
Fifteen
Abel
I ground my teeth together and clenched my fists beneath the table. To say the meeting wasn’t going well was an understatement. Talks had deteriorated almost as quickly as they began. Nobody was listening, only trying to talk over the top of each other. Gabe and I had agreed to let the lawyers and our agent do the talking for the most part, but Gio couldn’t keep his fat mouth shut for two damn seconds.
“You can’t fucking do this!” He angrily shoved his chair back and stood. The lawyer representing me and Gabe had just made it clear in no uncertain terms that the two of us would walk, lawsuit be damned, before we’d remain in the band with Gio and Lowell. Lowell honestly didn’t look like he gave a shit, but that’s probably because his bloodshot eyes suggested he was stoned.
“Now hold on,” Alex Trevors, the label exec, held up his hand. “What if Lowell and Gio were to go through a treatment program? We could postpone the tour a few months, of course the band would have to cover part o
f the losses, but we wouldn’t sue.”
Gio snorted angrily and was about to fire off another angry retort, when Pete Franks, our band manager, grabbed him by his arm and yanked him back down into his chair, muttering, “Just shut up.” Then everyone at the table looked toward me and Gabe.
“No,” I said. “It’s not just about the drugs. The band is supposed to be a family, supposed to have each other’s back, and we haven’t been that way in a long time. The fact is, I don’t trust them and can’t rely on them. The band is broken, and I’m done.”
“Same for me,” Gabe said firmly.
Alex sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. He glanced at the label’s lawyers beside him and then down at the copies of our contracts laid out in front of him, before lifting his eyes to the rest of us. “Then I suggest we all take a few minutes. I need to go over some things with our lawyers, and I suggest you all do the same, because the fact of the matter is we have contracts here that have to be worked out in one way or another, and I’d like to find a solution with the least damaging outcome for everyone. We’ll meet back in here in fifteen minutes.”
Gio was the first to rise again, kicking his chair and storming out of the room, Lowell on his heels, followed by Pete, and the band’s lawyer. Gabe, and I, along with our lawyer, trailed after them, leaving Alex, the other label guys, and their lawyers alone in the room.
The second I stepped out of the conference room, Gio was right up in my face. “Screw you, asshole! You can’t kick me out of the band.”
“Weren’t you listening, asshole?” I growled right back. “There is no more band. We’re through.”
“You can’t just fucking do that,” he spat. “I can sue your ass.” He looked at Pete and John Iverson, the band’s lawyer, for confirmation, but they just shifted uncomfortably.
Finding Abel (Rebel Hearts Book 1) Page 15