“Good to meet you,” Rob said as he took his turn shaking my hand. He cocked his head and frowned a little. “You look familiar, though. Maybe I’ve seen you around campus?”
“Probably around the barn with me,” Brooklyn said. “Vanessa rides, too.” Then she turned to me and said, “Robert’s going to be working at Rosewood next year in security, so he’s spent some time on campus already, scoping things out.”
“And watching out for my little sister,” he said in a mock stern tone as he turned his gaze on Coach Fleming.
Who gave him an eye roll, the kind I’d seen a lot of on the bus, which meant that behind the teasing, the guys were friends and probably respected the hell out of each other.
“So where is everyone?” Seychelles asked, looking around. “I see a nice spread over there on the table, but not the hot boy band spread I was hoping for.”
“Ugh, Chelly,” Brooklyn said. “Don’t be gross. Plus, your boyfriend is, like, two... wait, no, he’s not even two feet from you. You’re holding his freaking hand.”
Seychelles smirked up at Jared, who was grinning down at her, and then looked at Brooklyn and shrugged. “I landed the hot actor, so obviously I’m winning at life. But I’m allowed to look at hot musicians, aren’t I, Babe?”
“Of course,” Jared gave her a resigned look, but his eyes held the kind of mischief that made me think he was the perfect match for her. “Isn’t that why we’re even here at this sausage-fest?”
“Aw, and I thought you were here for me,” came from the direction of the door as Will came through it, the rest of the band (except for Graeme) behind him.
Jared’s smile widened until it was as big as Will’s as the two guys came together and clasped hands, leaning into a back-patting bro hug.
“So yeah, welcome to the sausage fest,” Will said.
“Ew, I didn’t mean you,” Seychelles said, screwing up her face into an expression of mock disgust. “I meant them.” She gestured at the rest of the guys, the ones who couldn’t have any idea that she was known as the flirt of Rosewood, and for very good reason,
Chris laughed nervously while Andres just stood there, looking confused and not sure how to take her. Darren smirked and looked like he was just about to approach her when he seemed to notice the big guy who had gone from inconspicuously holding her hand to wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder.
Darren froze in his tracks, and I heard him mutter, “Nope, that’s not happening,” under his breath.
It was pretty funny to watch. The whole scene was pretty funny, actually.
Then Andres gave me an alarmed look which I countered with a one-shoulder shrug.
“Introduce us?” Emmie asked in a commanding but friendly tone—one I was familiar with because Sandy often used it, too. “And then we can get some promo shots. I think your event is about to start soon, right?”
In unison, we glanced up at the clock on the wall. I nodded because she was right. Time was ticking.
I did quick introductions around the room, noticing Sandy coming in halfway through and standing beside me. She got the final introduction and was then subjected to a crushing Emmie hug which she returned with just as much force.
Extroverts. Though I smiled through it, liking that these two forces of nature had found each other, convinced they could—and would—do great things together.
Couch Conversation
Once all the pleasantries were done, Sandy took over and started directing the guys and Emmie so they could take some photos before the radio people arrived. Emmie explained her charity: how she’d set up an online auction site where her gently used designer and couture gowns were auctioned off. Every dollar raised went to providing schools, water, and food in third world countries. She didn’t take one cent from the proceeds, not even for administration, instead using her own money to run and host the site (whatever she couldn’t do on her own—it seemed she was something of an e-commerce and computer genius).
She wryly said the charity was ‘trust-funded’ thanks to her parents, who appeared to be so wealthy that they didn’t even care what she did with their money. Hence her buying out a ton of seats to the concert and donating whatever she and her friends didn’t use to a local youth organization.
Suddenly exhausted, now that most of my anxiety over seeing the girls had dissipated, and trying to stay out of the way of the impromptu photo shoot, I plopped myself down on the couch beside Brooklyn.
My eyes were drawn toward Coach Fleming over at the food table where he stood with the rest of the Westwood guys, eating and joking around. This group acted very much like the Wiretap guys, validating to me that there was such a thing as guy culture. I have to admit, it was fun to watch.
Also, having them on the other side of the room and with Emmie and Sandy working with the band, meant it was just Brooklyn and I alone on the couch, at least for the moment. It felt like a break, a needed one that I very much appreciated.
I’d gotten used to being around a lot of people since doing all the media meet and greets. But having everyone from school, the regulars, and knowing more people were on their way, felt a little overwhelming.
“So,” Brooklyn said. “I guess I don’t need to ask you how your summer is going.”
I looked at her to see if she was joking, but she was smiling at me innocently. She was assuming, like everyone did, that being on the road with a boy band was a recipe for the best summer ever.
“It’s...” I sighed. “It’s good.”
She frowned and leaned closer, her voice softer when she asked, “Everything okay? I kind of figured this was a dream come true.”
Nodding my head toward Sandy, I said, “It is for her. It’s...”
“Is it Dave?” she asked. “Emmie said that Sandy told her you and he are...” she trailed off, but her meaning was obvious.
I looked over at her and saw only friendly concern on her face, not jealousy or even the slightest bit of cattiness.
“That’s part of it, but it’s complicated.”
“I hope that us being here doesn’t make things more complicated.”
“No, I...” but I couldn’t finish when she gave me a knowing look. “Okay, yes, a bit. I will admit I was concerned.”
“It makes complete sense,” she said. “I get it. I mean, he and I were only together a very short time. I wouldn’t even count it, to be honest. But Emmie, who he’d been with for a long time, was my roommate. Is still my roommate.”
“How was that?” I asked.
Brooklyn snorted. “In a word? Awkward. Especially when she was having second thoughts about having broken up with him.”
I cringed.
“But Dave was...” she looked up at the guy in question as he stood with the other members of the band, smiling and jostling each other as Sandy took pictures. “He is such a great guy. But not the guy for me. Or her.” She swung her gaze back to me. “But maybe he’s the guy for you.”
“I don’t think so,” came out of me, even though it hurt to say it.
“What?”
“Like I said, complicated. We...well, I guess we almost had something, but...” I lowered my voice even more, “he’s probably leaving the band.” And then when her eyebrows went up, I added: “To join another.”
She exhaled in relief. “Good. Not that it’s good about you and him, but he totally needs to pursue music. I didn’t realize it when I knew him on campus, but like Emmie says, I think it really is his destiny.”
I nodded. “Not that you heard it from me that he’s making a move. Also, it’s not a hundred percent for sure yet, either.”
“Of course,” she said. “I can keep a secret.”
“Thanks.” We both looked back over at him. “He was born to be a rock star.” As I said it, like he heard me all the way across the meeting room, he glanced over. He gave me a tight smile, letting his eyes linger on mine until Sandy barked
his name to bring his attention back so she could take the shot.
We hadn’t spoken since I’d run away from him, mostly because I didn’t know what to say. Also because I hated the burden of knowing that Legion Thunder would be watching him tonight. I was worried if we spoke, I’d blurt it out to clear my conscience.
“Well,” Brooklyn said, breaking into my thoughts. “Even if you don’t, he thinks he’s the guy for you, if that look was any indication.”
Taking a deep breath, I turned back toward her. “He told me he has a habit of falling too fast and hard.”
“He’s a romantic,” she said as she gave me a wistful smile. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t remember him ever looking at me like that.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that because while I wanted to believe her, I didn’t. Not completely. He might have looked at her like that, but she’d forgotten thanks to her new relationship with the hot equestrian coach who could scramble anyone’s memories.
Speaking of Coach Fleming, I was about to ask her how they came to be when she beat me to changing the subject.
“But it sounds like there’s more to why you’re not having the best summer,” she said, giving me another inquiring, I-want-to-help look. “Want to talk about it?” she nodded toward the door.
The story about my mother had leaked, but only just, so it did make sense that she didn’t know about that yet. If she had, she wouldn’t have to ask.
Still, there was no way I was telling her about my family drama. I glanced up to see my father, Billy, and Linda thankfully entered the room. I scooched forward, preparing to get up and greet Dad so I could make introductions, but before I did, I said, in a low voice. “Thanks for offering, but I can’t. Let’s just say I’d rather be back at our beach house in the Hamptons. There’s a stables just down the road. That was supposed to be summer I signed up for.”
I didn’t wait to see her reaction but felt a little guilty as I’m sure I came across like a spoiled brat. But just because it seemed like I was living a charmed life on the road with an up-and-coming band of amazing guys, didn’t mean that it was my reality (well, the awesome guys were real, but the idea that I was loving every minute of it wasn’t).
Although, as I approached Linda, the real tour manager who had returned to her job, I thought maybe I could change my reality. Maybe I could now reclaim the rest of my summer and head back to the beach house. Life was always perfect at the beach house.
Except, as I watched Sandy happily wrangling the guys for Emmie, and heard what had to be the media people with their noisy and excited contest winners coming down the hall, I realized that if I went to the beach house, it would likely be without my best friend. That would make for a very lonely rest of my summer.
But if I somehow convinced her to give up her job and come with me, and made it work with her being under my dad’s care, there was no changing the fact that I would be ruining the rest of hers.
In the Front Row
Watching the band play from out in the audience during a concert was one of those rare treats that we nearly never had a chance to do. Sure, we watched during sound check and rehearsals to make sure the equipment was working, and that the guys were playing their best and hitting their marks. But that was different. That was work.
But now that Linda was back on the job and since there wasn’t much I did while the guys were on stage anyway, my dad had told me to go sit in the audience with my friends.
Leaving the backstage area, I went around the long way through the lobby and down the aisle to join Sandy, Emmie, Brooklyn, and the others. Their tickets were front row, right beside our reserved seats. There were at least two held for us at every venue, always in the front row and usually right beside the ones earmarked for a local doctor (just in case). If someone on crew had local family, they usually used them, but most times we just sent crew members out to fill them. Tonight, Sandy and I were happy to take them.
I took my place between Emmie and Sandy. As I suffered another one of Emmie’s hugs, I exchanged a smile with Danny, who stood on the other side of her. At least this embrace was a simple, quick hello hug, leaving my lungs intact.
“I’m so happy,” she announced as she let me go. “This is so cool, Vanessa!”
I smiled at her, feeling weirdly proud that, even in my small way, I could help make this happen. Although it had a lot more to do with Sandy bringing them together than it did with anything I’d done.
Speaking of my best friend, I turned toward her, more glad to have her back than I would have expected, especially after just a few days. I’d missed having her close, even though we were often so busy on tour that we didn’t hang out much. But having her in the next bunk at the end of the day had been weirdly comforting. Like my life wasn’t in full-on chaos mode if she was there.
I bumped my shoulder into hers. “So, did you have a reunion with Max?”
Her eyes darted up toward the stage, though why, I couldn’t guess since the curtain was still down. She shrugged. “Sort of. It’s...it’s complicated. We don’t want to rush things right now. We’re mostly just friends.”
But the expression on her face said otherwise. Or that she hoped it was otherwise. Also, the way Max had seemed to miss her, asking me about her a few times while she was away, told me it was mutual. They might not be actively dating while he was still working things out and in sessions with Dr. Carmichael, but I would bet money that they would be.
“I’m going to run to the bathroom before it starts,” she said before she jogged away, leaving me to take my seat.
It felt weird, but good, to be there as a regular fan. Liberating. I managed to convince myself, if only for tonight, that I was a normal concert-goer with my best friend and fellow students to watch a boy band play. I would not critique. I would not take mental notes. I would not worry if anyone missed their mark or forgot lyrics.
I was determined to enjoy myself.
As I sat there, my anticipation building as the buzz of the crowd got louder while we waited, it helped that the girls from Rosewood were so excited to see Will (and the other guys who they’d now briefly met, but not as much) perform. Chelly (because she had corrected me back at the reception, saying that no one but her parents called her ‘Seychelles’) wolf-whistled at regular intervals and Emmie turned several times and asked me when they were going to start, even though she had a watch on and the start time was printed right on the ticket.
And here I thought I had been full of nervous energy.
I chalked it up to her excitement and a little bit of anxiety over seeing her ex play. She knew he was good, but I wondered if she knew just how good. Maybe she was worried he’d bomb. I didn’t really think that was possible, but okay, maybe I was a tiny bit worried about that, too. Live concerts—you just never know.
As I looked around, even the Westwood guys looked like they were getting ready to enjoy themselves, laughing and smiling, despite that the concert would be, as Jared called it, a sausage party on stage. Danny had joked that they would be the only guys in the audience (which wasn’t true), but none of them really seemed to mind. They were taking it in good humor, and that was a testament to how excited they were to see their schoolmate up there.
Jared especially looked really excited, which made sense: That was going to be his best friend up there, and a lot was at stake. Though they couldn’t know the extent of it yet.
When I’d entered into the auditorium from the rear doors instead of coming out from the stage, I hadn’t spotted the members of Legion Thunder and their management team, but I knew they were out there. Or they would be before curtain.
The knowledge that Will was auditioning still made me a little twitchy, especially because I knew about it while he didn’t. At the same time, I recognized that if he’d known, it would just add more pressure to what he already had to be feeling. No matter how calm and confident he appeared on stage, being frontman was a d
ifferent kind of pressure. He’d taken lead for the odd song here and there, but never had he been at the center mic for a whole show. Eyes would be on him most of the time. Not much room for error at center stage.
I hadn’t had a chance to ask my dad about the whole Legion Thunder angle yet—both how he felt about the chances of Will leaving, and how it came about that he was unknowingly auditioning. As I sat there waiting for the concert to start, I thought maybe I’d let the evening unfold before deciding if and how I was going to confront him about it. Maybe staying out of it was my best option. Especially if it ended up going sideways.
As the crowd got louder around me, I pulled out my phone to check the time. Still five minutes to go. I turned off the ringer (not that I would be able to hear it in a concert hall anyway) and opened a text window to Graeme. How’re you holding up? I sent.
Brilliant, he returned. Thanks to the giant pile of pizza and nachos in my belly.
I laughed, even though I wasn’t totally sure he was joking. Plus all the soda you surely poured down your throat, I typed.
Too right. He sent along with a tongue-out emoji. Otherwise it’s rubbish and boring here. Watching more Law & Order episodes with curtis. He hogs the covers, though.
I smiled at that. While I was looking forward to my evening, his did not sound so horrible, cover hogs notwithstanding. I expect you to have a miraculous recovery between now and then to join us at reception.
Undoubtedly, he sent. The Dr. is taking my temp right now. Want to know where?
I barked out a laugh. In the hotel room, I hope, I typed, not taking his bait about exactly what orifice the thermometer was stuffed into.
Thankfully just then, the house lights went down, triggering my heart to begin racing, even though I knew what was coming. Or maybe because I knew what was coming.
Gtg, I sent back before I slipped my phone into my pocket and looked around for Sandy.
A second later, she jogged up and took her seat, just in time for the first note to erupt from behind the curtain, bringing the crowd to its feet.
The Rosewoods Rock & Roll Box Set Page 80