by Josephs, Mia
He didn’t slow when he got backstage, but moved for the back door.
Stacy jogged to keep up. “Griffin? What’s going on?”
How was he supposed to answer that? “I have absolutely no idea.”
Stacy grabbed his arm, jerking him to a stop.
“Why you? Why did Dave ask you?” she yelled.
He threw his arms in the air. “Because I’m an asshole, Stacy. Because for whatever reason, Lita and I became friends, and now she’s pissed, and I have only half an idea as to why.”
“You like her. Like really, like her.” Stacy’s brows pulled together, and both hurt and anger flooded her eyes. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Everything in him stilled. Slowed. Dropped. “Because from day one, I’ve been trying not to like her. Because I came out here hoping to find whatever had faded between us.”
“And that’s something you should have talked to me about when it was happening, Griffin.” Her finger pressed into her chest. “Me. Not her. Not anyone else. Me.”
She was right. Of course she was.
All the anger in him turned into pure shittiness.
“I thought it was my problem.” He sighed as he leaned against the wall, Lita’s music still vibrating the building. At least she’d managed to continue the show. He’d hate to see what would happen to her if she hadn’t been able to.
Stacy took a long breath in, her chin trembling. “Of course you did. And you didn’t ask for help because you never do. Because you just work and work and think about everyone else.”
“Stacy.” He touched her cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She shook her head and backed away from his hand. “It’s gonna hurt for a while, but us splitting was a good thing. Better for you. And better for me.” Her jaw tensed. “Especially after this. I deserve better, Griffin.”
He stood silent. She was right. Of course she was right.
“I had the decency to tell you when things changed for me, Griffin. Remember that. And you didn’t.”
He wanted to find the perfect words, but there weren’t any. He’d messed up, and they both knew it.
“I’m gonna go.”
“Now? In the dark? I don’t think—”
“Shut up, Griffin,” she said with an odd frustrated frown. Maybe she didn’t know what to think. He certainly felt lost. “I’m going to get a hotel room, but I think we’re done.”
His head dropped. They were done. He just didn’t imagine he’d feel so heavy over it. “Can I drive you, or—”
“No.” She backed up. “I can do this on my own.”
And then she was gone, and he knew she was crying because he knew Stacy. But he also finally realized she could do a lot of things on her own, and that maybe he’d been holding her back, just like Ryker had said. And Stacy was right too—he should have talked to her.
He just wanted his day to be over. And maybe the next few as well. And he really wished he hadn’t stopped smoking because it would at least occupy his hands for a while.
Twenty-two
The crowd had loved Lita last night but she was paying for it.
Bridget had called twice and texted about eight times. Lita hit return on the call, not wanting to try and make out the numbers. It was like she was hung over, only without the drinking part. Or at least without much of the drinking part.
Something moved in her bed and she sucked in a breath sitting so fast the room spun.
“Hey.” Chandler rubbed his face. “They were out of rooms thanks to your concert. That’s why I’m here.” He smirked. “You looked surprised, so I thought I should remind you why you’re sharing your bed.”
She couldn’t focus.
“Lita?” Bridget’s voice came from her phone. “Lita?”
“Hey,” she said only her voice came out in a croaky whisper.
“Oh, hell. Your voice. Dammit. I’ll come with something hot,” Bridget said. “Don’t talk. To anyone. Save your voice.”
Her body shook as she set down the phone and she shivered and grabbed her blankets, jerking them around her more tightly.
“No way you can be cold in here,” Chandler said. “I’m dying it’s so hot.”
It’s because I’m not eating.
“It’s okay. Have to whisper so I can get my voice back.” The night before… What a disaster.
“I gotta get back to New York, but last night was something else, Lita.” He looked worried, but unlike Griffin he wouldn’t press it. “Just… I don’t know… Be careful with yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her throat aching. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Chandler scoffed as he slid his pants on. “You’re not fine. Obviously. You know where to reach me, but I’m about the last person you should come to for any kind of real help.”
She nodded and Chandler sat next to her on the bed. “You’re a cool chick. Don’t forget it, okay?”
She pressed her palms to her eyes and all she saw was Griffin kissing Stacy. His hands gripping her hips, his mouth hard on hers… That’s not how you kiss someone you’re lukewarm about. She was such an idiot. Why had he played her? Why had he said it was weird with Stacy? Why had he let her in? Why had he let her tell him things she should have kept to herself? Was it funny to him to know things about her no one else did?
“Bridget’s on her way, right?” Chandler asked.
Lita nodded.
“Okay. I can’t miss my flight. Call if you need me.”
“Thanks, Chandler.” She pulled her blankets up and wished for warmth. For things to be different. To not care so damn much.
“You’re pathetic,” Ryker slapped the back of Griffin’s head. “We should be planning a welcome to bachelorhood party and getting you laid by some random hot girl and getting wasted and—”
Griffin let his eyes fall closed. They were heavy after his sleepless night, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. “Dude. You know that’s not me.”
Ryker grabbed Griffin’s shoulders with a grin. “But it could be.”
Griffin stood. “Come on. The driver gets pissed when we’re not there for bus take off.” And even if it made her furious, he was going to put soup on Lita’s bus.
The last thing Griffin saw of Memphis was Lita dropping the soup out the window and them pulling away. Fine. Griffin took his guitar, sat in a corner seat on the huge vehicle and started messing around.
Why did she have to ruin the song? Why? And why the hell had he kissed her? All it had done was piss Lita off, made him feel like shit, and made Stacy feel like shit. It was all just shit and his own stupid fault.
And to make matters worse, a few people had illegally video recorded her doing the song, and it had over a hundred thousand hits on YouTube in a day, which would have been awesome if she’d done the song the right way.
Griffin got an hour of peace before Ryker plopped next to him—his limbs hanging around a tired frame.
“What?” Griffin asked, awaiting the lecture he was sure would come.
“No one’s paying attention.” He gestured toward the crew lost in their own world on the bus. “You wanna talk?”
“I don’t know if I should,” Griffin answered honestly.
“You and Lita.” Ryker pushed back his hair. “Never saw that one coming.”
“Me either.” It was enough of an admission for both of them.
“Obviously didn’t end well…”
Griffin shook his head, still staring at his phone and watching the video of Lita singing his song on mute. Every move of hers had looked messy. Forced. “It never got started.”
“She sure has enough anger that it could have started. Or you should have at least gotten laid if you were going to have to face this kind of backlash.” Ryker jabbed him. “She fucked that song. Not cool.”
Griffin started to formulate some kind of response but instead changed tacks completely. After yesterday, he was pretty sure Lita wouldn’t let him near her, but she also wasn’t h
ealthy, and someone needed to be watching out for her. “What do you think about Bridget?”
Ryker chuckled a little. “Ahhh Bridget. The loyal subject.”
“Here’s the thing,” Griffin started but then stopped. He didn’t know how to talk about Bridget without bringing up Lita’s eating. “It’s that—”
Ryker’s brows rose. “Everything you need to know about that relationship, you can get from the back story.”
Griffin turned in his chair to more fully face his brother. “Okay.”
“They used to play together. Sing together. Lita and her entered the battle of the bands as a duet, but Lita also entered a solo piece, which is what won. Her and Bridget were out on like round two at regional something or others. I don’t know how that all works.”
“Oh.” Griffin didn’t get any sign of malice toward Lita from Bridget. He knew they were close, but maybe there was enough jealousy for Bridget to let her friend fall when she wouldn’t otherwise?
“Lita got picked up by the xLx label, and no one even noticed the song she’d done with Bridget. Do with that what you will.” Ryker’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out, smiling when he looked at the screen and started tapping. “So, what’s up for you after this?”
“Go home. Help Mom. Teach kids to play music. I can’t… I can’t think past that right now.” Griffin’s fingers flew back up the neck of the guitar. The separation from Stacy was already enough of a change.
“You could get a job on another tour you know.”
Griffin nodded. “I’m feeling bad for Mom I guess. I know she’s lonely.”
“And she will be unless you’re gone long enough that she has to go look for friends.” Ryker smiled again and tapped his phone a few more times.
“Don’t put the blame on me. I already feel like shit.”
“You were arrogant enough to think that Stacy needed you. And you’re arrogant enough to think that Mom needs you. She doesn’t, Griff.”
“Maybe.” He sighed, staring at the guitar in his lap. “Lita’s going through—”
Ryker held his hand out. “Stop. Really. Stop. I don’t care how much you feel for her. Whatever she’s going through, she needs to get herself out of. You can’t save her. You can’t.”
Griffin rubbed his face, hating how powerless he sometimes felt. “I can’t walk away from her either.”
“You push at her, and she’s going to push back. The drink last night. The soup this morning. Seriously. Food? What is that?” Ryker asked.
Griffin closed his eyes. “It’s not… I was trying to help.”
“Stop it. If you have something to say to her, write it down because with the fury she aimed at you last night, that’s probably your only chance of her hearing anything you have to say. Also, I promise you, she will destroy you if you let her in. I’m saying this as your brother.”
“Great.” Only not at all great. “Thank you.”
Griffin started strumming and Ryker closed his eyes as he sunk further into the chair. “I was thinking of… I was thinking of maybe hanging at home for six months or so. You know, after the tour’s over.”
Griffin’s hands froze. “What? Why?”
“I don’t know. To catch up with old high school friends. To spend time with Mom. Lots of reasons.”
“You hate that town.”
Ryker shrugged, his eyes still closed. “Yeah, but now I’m the big man back from the city. It’s all good.”
“There’s not really enough room for both of us in the trailer.”
Ryker blinked. “That’s sort of the point, idiot.” And then he stood.
Griffin watched his brother go toward the back of the bus. It was the closest thing he’d ever get to an offer to help, and maybe it was time he took it. He still had no idea what to do with himself if neither his mom or Stacy needed him.
Griffin plucked at the strings, and hummed a tune that had come to him that morning. He slid his phone onto his leg in case something really struck him. There were very few things more frustrating than having words in your head, and nowhere to get them down.
Suddenly he knew just what he wanted to say to Lita.
Twenty-three
Lita sipped her hot coffee and stared out the window of another hotel room. The comforter from her bedroom was wrapped around her as she sat on the small couch of the suite. They were at the point in the tour where even the cities had begun to look the same.
They’d postponed her Atlanta show by one day for her voice to recover. It meant there would be no day off between Atlanta and Miami, but it would be worth it. After Miami she had three days before driving back up to Washington D.C., so she hoped to recover then. At least before they made their way up the rest of the east coast.
She’d never had such a lax schedule, and she’d never been so exhausted.
“How’s the throat?” Bridget asked, and Lita nodded in response.
This not talking thing was sort of nice. It’s not like she had anything to say to anyone. Anything she wanted to discuss. It was something else that helped her stay to herself.
“Your dad coming to the show?” she asked. “He’s only an hour away, right?”
Lita shrugged. She hadn’t asked. Hadn’t wanted her dad to tell her he couldn’t come.
“Oh.” Bridget flipped open her iPad. “Griffin dropped this off.”
She tossed the letter toward Lita. “When?”
“When we got here.”
Lita wanted to ask when again. Like, was it the second they arrived? Or sometime after dinnertime? But it shouldn’t matter. What could he say in a letter that would change their circumstances? All it had the chance of doing was making her more upset that she couldn’t have him, and it wasn’t a position she wanted to be in. Or make her feel worse for taking such a perfect song and twisting it the way she had.
She fingered the letter and then thought about his arms around her. How he said he felt torn. What it felt like to just sit with him. The picture of him and Stacy together swam through her brain again making her clutch her stomach. It twisted harder when she thought about Griffin’s lips smashed against her own. That was desperate anger. Simple and hard.
“You sick?” Bridget asked absently.
“Are you worried?” Lita leaned over her legs.
Bridget sighed. “You’ll have to be more specific, Lita.”
Lita opened her mouth, but stopped. Humiliation ran over her in a wave at how absurd she felt. “I’ve barely eaten in two weeks. At least not much. Its just stress, I mean… It’s stress. I’m not sure how…” Could she say it? “I don’t know how to deal right now.” And the mess with Griffin and Stacy had just made it worse.
“Then eat.”
Lita frowned and turned away. It wasn’t that easy. How did Griffin get it, but Bridget didn’t? She’d had to stuff the crackers down, and soup sounded perfect, but she was being stupid and stubborn and didn’t care if that was why, but she wasn’t about to let Griffin win this.
Win.
Was that even what it was about?
“Never mind,” Lita said as a crappy realization started to set in. Bridget might not be what she needed anymore.
Lita flipped her phone in her hands. Thought of sending a message to Griff, to Chandler… She wasn’t ready for Griffin’s letter, so maybe that was part of her answer.
Her thumb spun down her small list of contacts until it reached Dad, and she hit dial before allowing herself time to over think.
“Lita?” he answered with his sleepy voice.
Her chest warmed and her shoulders relaxed. “Hey, Dad,” she whispered. “Trying to get my voice back.”
“Of course. You’re on tour again, right honey?”
She sniffed as tears crept to the edges of her eyes. “Yeah. I’m playing in Atlanta tomorrow night, and I…”
“Wanted to see if I could come?” he asked. “They let old guys in to these things?”
His voice. It was childhood and Mom and music, and offices where she’
d play. Warmth spread from her feet, up her body, relaxing her deeper into the couch.
“Yeah…” she started. “I can meet you backstage.”
Silence hung on the line for a few moments.
“I’m in New York right now, but if you’re here within two weeks, I’ll be around.”
Dates rattled in her brain. “Yeah… I think New York is a week and a half.”
“Okay.” Her dad paused. “Save that voice, and I’ll see you soon.”
“See you,” she whispered.
And the line closed off.
She never knew if her and her dad were closer or further away after they talked. For Lita, every short conversation felt like two more steps away—pretty soon she wouldn’t be able to see him at all.
Twenty-four
“Leave me alone,” Griffin moaned as he clutched the remote. VH1 was doing a special on Lita’s mom’s career, and he wanted to watch it.
Ryker kicked the mattress. “We got an unexpected day off because of Lita’s voice. We’re in Atlanta. As of this morning, you’re legal drinking age. You’re also now single. Get your ass off the bed.”
“Seriously. Fuck off.”
Ryker took a deep breath. “Griffin.”
Griffin turned to face his brother. “Ryker.”
“You have to want to get wasted. Come on.” Ryker’s hands tapped his knees as he sat waiting.
“Just go without me.”
“Griffin!” Ryker yelled. “It’s your damn birthday! Stop the moping shitty whatever thing you’re doing, and come out with us!”
“Us?”
“The band. The crew. Everyone.”
There were only a couple weeks left…
“It’s almost over, man. Don’t miss out.”
“Dammit.” Griffin threw the remote at Ryker before standing. “Dammit.”
Ryker laughed. “I knew it! Come on! I bet you get a freebie with it being your birthday. You just can’t miss out on that.”
He actually could, but he’d catch hell for it later. And just because he’d screwed himself in too many ways, didn’t mean he couldn’t go out. It probably meant the opposite.