by Stacey Lynn
“I know you’re afraid,” my mom begins softly. Tears prick the corner of my eyes and I can’t look at her. I refuse to let her see me cry. “You can fight this, baby girl. You just have to want to.”
I want to roll my eyes again. Or throw something. My hands begin shaking and I can feel a rush of nervous – or fearful – adrenaline take hold of my veins.
“I’m scared,” I finally admit.
Her arms are around me, pulling me to her before I ever see her move.
“I know, baby.” Her arms tighten around me and my head falls to her shoulder. I lose the war with my tears and they spill freely onto her pale pink blouse. “I know it’s scary and it’s hard.”
Her skin feels soft as I bury my head into the crook of her neck. My shoulders shake from the sobs I can no longer control.
“Let those of us who love you, help you through this. You don’t always have to be the strong one. The one who puts the pieces of everybody else’s life back together. You can trust us to fight this with you.”
“I don’t want to lose who I am.”
“Your body has never – and never will – determine who you are.”
“That’s not what I mean.” But it is and she knows because she’s been through this. All of it. Her voice is quiet and soothing, but she’s choking back her own tears for me. Or is she remembering what it was like for her? The fear. The pain. The loss. The brokenness. She’s been through it all. Why did I ever think I didn’t need my mom for this?
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit as she holds me tighter. The decisions are overwhelming. The consequences for making the wrong one could end me. The pain of recovery for both is frightening. How is anyone supposed to make this decision?
She holds me until my tears stop. Her blouse is soaked and both of our cheeks have mascara dripping in lines down to our chins. Our eyes are red and swollen when I finally pull away, finally able to tell her about my appointments.
Elijah has filled her in, but there’s enough he doesn’t understand that I need to clarify. By the time I’m done explaining, as she quietly listens and asks the appropriate questions that I didn’t have a clue to ask at the doctor’s, Elijah has joined us at the table – apparently deciding he’s safe from my wrath for bringing mom over here.
I’ll need to thank him later. Jim, Jack, and Jose can only do so much. Sometimes a girl just needs her mom.
We visit for a little bit longer until I claim that I’m tired and need to take a nap. My mom understands, so she leaves quickly. It’s not until after she’s gone that I realize that besides mentioning my dad’s job, she didn’t mention him at all. She didn’t even ask me to see him, which is unnatural. Before I moved to New York, I was harassed at least monthly to come to the house and see him. I never did. I haven’t seen him in years.
Nicole got back from her honeymoon several days ago and has tried calling me. It’s been simple fear that has kept me from answering my phone and talking to her. Did Chase tell her what is going on? At least the parts he knows? Does she know yet that I’ve been the world’s crappiest friend and lied to her? Is she too wrapped up in her pre-tour promotions to even notice I haven’t returned her calls?
There are too many questions and simply not enough answers.
But it’s the answers that terrify me.
And yet, I’m forced to face them when Elijah walks into his living room, my ringing cell phone in hand.
“It’s Nicole,” he says as he throws the phone toward me. I catch it at the last second right before it hits my book that I haven’t actually been reading. “Answer it.”
I scowl at him, but yet I know I can’t avoid her forever.
I take a deep breath, afraid of what I’ll hear on the other end of the line. “Hello?”
“Hey girl! I miss you!” Her voice is happy enough. Innocent enough. Perhaps Chase has kept my secrets after all. The thought allows me to breathe and exhale some of the pent up tension in my body.
I plaster on a smile, even though she can’t see it. “How was your honeymoon?”
“Fantastic. But that’s not why I’m calling.”
My heart starts racing. Here it comes. “Oh?” My free hand begins nervously wrapping a lock of my hair around my finger.
“Yeah. I wanted you to know I’ve got your tickets booked to the concert for opening night. You and Elijah both have backstage passes and everything.”
I blow out a breath. She has no clue. If she did, she wouldn’t be this happy. But I can’t go to this. There’s no way I’m going to be able to go now. The doctor’s want my decision on treatment this week and by next week when the tour starts, I’ll be a mess.
“I can’t …” I stutter and then start over, lying through my teeth. “I’m really sorry, Nic. I won’t be able to make it. Things are too busy right now with work and Fashion Week coming up. I might have to go to France.”
I suck. I absolutely suck. Elijah crosses his arms against his chest and glares at me. He thinks the same thing and I can’t even argue with him.
“What?” If Nic was in the room with me right now, I know exactly how she’d look. Her blue eyes are enormous and her jaw is hanging down to her shoulders. She’s probably pale. “But you promised you’d be there. I can’t go on stage without you, Mia. You have to be there.”
“I know … I just … there’s no way Devan’s going to give me the time off. Not right now and not with the time I just had.”
And now I’m throwing her a guilt trip because I visited her for her wedding. If an award for Worst Best Friend of the Year existed, I’d win by unanimous vote. Elijah’s so pissed at me he turns and leaves the room. He’ll have a mouthful of disappointment to share with me later, I’m sure.
The other end of the phone is so silent I almost think she hung up on me.
“Nic?” I ask to make sure she’s even there. “I’m really sorry. You’ll still be incredible though.”
“It’s okay,” she says finally. But I can hear the disappointment and sadness in her voice. Why can’t I just tell her what’s really going on? What am I so afraid of? “I understand. Will you try to make our Boston concert when we’re there next month?”
There’s no way in hell I can make it to that one. “I’ll do my best.”
It appeases her some, while I’m suddenly picturing that I’ve just nailed the coffin closed to our friendship.
“Okay,” she says reluctantly, and then I practically see her smile as her voice gets lighter. “Have you talked to Chase lately?”
“Not since I left. Why?” The question escapes my lips and I wish I could suck them right back in. I don’t want to know. Don’t tell me.
“Because he’s been mopey and pissy and I was wondering if you have anything to do about it.”
“Umm … no?” Yes. Probably.
“What’d you do?”
I’ve become an expert at pissing off and lying to awesome people. It’s a skill I’ve mastered in less than thirty days.
She’s scolding me like her mom did when we were kids and a laugh bursts from my lips. I can’t tell her though. How do you tell someone you fell in love and then high-tailed it out of there when you realized you might die? I don’t want Nic scared for me. Not when she’s so far away and can’t do anything to help. All she can do is worry, and I know she will.
“I just left. It’s not a good time for us.” That’s the closest to the truth I can tell her. The problem with lies and hidden truths is that once you start they eventually snowball out of your control. My motives are pure, but I’ve dug my hole and now I have to lie in it. There’s no way she can know the truth now. By the time her tour is done, I’ll be done with treatment or recovered from surgery. Sure she may hate me, or be pissed then, but I’ll be fine by then.
Hopefully.
She sighs. “There’s something going on that you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”
“No,” I answer quickly. Too quickly. “I just … I can’t be with him. I liked it better when w
e were just having fun.”
“He really cares about you. I wish I knew why you were so scared.”
Because I could die.
I hate that that’s my answer for everything these days.
“I care about him, too, Nic. It’s just … like I said. It’s not a good time. I’m swamped at work and with the tour starting I wouldn’t see him anyway.”
“I get that,” she says with a loud sigh. “I just want to see you happy. And Chase can be that for you, I just know it.”
“I am happy, Nic,” I say and close my eyes. I’m going to hell with all the lies I’m telling. Demons in hell are tallying up my sins by the second. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I’ve gotta get going, I have a meeting soon, but I’m really glad you had a great honeymoon. Tell Zack hi for me and I’ll call you soon, okay?”
She pauses before answering. I can practically see her mind working to figure me out. “Okay. I love you.”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
I hang up before she can tell I’m already crying.
I’m nervous starting a tour this time with Nicole and Zack still being newlyweds and three additional guys on the bus with them. Being at their house before their wedding was nauseating enough, but all of us cramped together on a bus while they make out like bunnies upstairs? It has the potential to get awkward real quick. At least Zack was smart enough to schedule more time between stops so we can rest up in hotels along the way. We never felt the need to do that before, but hopefully it’ll keep us from going crazy.
My nerves don’t compare at all though to what Nicole look likes in the make-up chair. Her skin keeps alternating between white as a baby’s butt and green. I seriously hope she doesn’t throw up.
“You gonna be okay out there tonight?” I ask with a slight smirk to my lips. Nic is easy to rile up. I almost feel bad when I see her hands tremor slightly against the armrest on the sides of her chair.
She rolls her eyes at me in the mirror. Damn she looks scared as hell. “I’ll be fine, Chase.”
“Is Mia going to be here tonight?”
I haven’t asked Nic in the last month if she’s talked to Mia. I’ve tried to mind my own business but it’s been hard. I’ve thought about Mia every minute of the day. What made her so scared? What made her run? Why was I such a dick at the airport? Has she told Nicole anything? I haven’t said anything or asked the questions that are on the tip of my tongue because I promised. I hate that I promised though. Something in my gut tells me it was one of the worst decisions I’ve made in a long time.
If I called Mia, would she even answer? I can’t stop thinking about the last thing I said to her and the blank look on her face.
I won’t chase after you.
I never asked you to.
God that hit me in the chest so hard I felt like I got sucker punched. How in the hell did I let Mia walk out of my life with that being the last thing I said? Why didn’t I pull her into my arms and tell her how much I loved her? Why didn’t I hop on the plane with her? I’d chase her. I should have followed her or gone with her and held her and let her keep crying on my shoulder.
Nic pulls her eyebrows in so close together it suddenly looks like she only has one, and then she frowns. “She’s busy working on some project in New York. I haven’t talked to her in a couple of weeks.”
My eyes widen. What the fuck? I don’t think I hear anything after she mentions New York.
“Chase?” I look up at Nicole and she looks green again. Aw hell, I have to get out of here before I do something stupid like telling her that her best friend is lying. That wouldn’t go over well forty-five minutes before we have to be on stage.
Shit.
“Huh?” I ask when I realize she’s still staring at me wide-eyed in the mirror.
“Why did you think Mia would be here?”
“Uh … because your best friends and I didn’t think she’d miss this for the world.” Because she wouldn’t, damn it. I may not know a lot about Mia, and we might never get together like I want, but I sure as hell know that there’s absolutely nothing that would keep Mia away from seeing Nicole open with Zack Walters in Minneapolis of all places. This is where they began. Even if she was busy, she’d make the damn the time.
Nicole presses her lips together as she watches me while the hair stylist tugs on her hair. It looks painful as hell and almost makes me want to shave my head bald again so no one ever comes at me like that.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I suddenly know why children can never lie to their parents when Nic looks at me like this. I hate this damn look.
“Nothing,” I say as I stand up. “I’m going to go find Jake. Want me to send Zack in here?”
She shakes her head no. “I need a few minutes to freak out first. I’ll see you out there in twenty minutes.”
“Sure thing, baby doll.” I lean over and press a kiss on her cheek. “See you on stage. And stop worrying, you’re fucking fantastic and the crowd is going to love us.”
I chuckle as I walk away, listening to Nicole muttering something about fans hating Zack’s wife. She’s had the same damn fear that all the women are going to start screaming and boo-ing at her as soon as she steps on stage for the last year now. I have a feeling this shit haunts her dreams.
It’d make me laugh if I didn’t have a sinking sensation in my gut.
Once I’m out in the hallway, I duck into an empty room and dial Mia’s number. It rings three times before she picks up. A vile taste hits my mouth instantly and I take a deep breath when a male voice comes on the line.
“Hello?”
“Is Mia there?” I ask through clenched teeth. Why is a man answering her phone?
He sounds nervous. “Yeah … want me to tell her who’s calling?”
“Chase. Who are you?” I sound like a prick. I know it, I just can’t help it. A thousand thoughts are running through my mind. Does she already have another man in her bed?
“Elijah, I’m her brother. Hold on a sec.” I exhale before he’s done talking as all the crazy thoughts that took up residence in my head flee. I hear muffled voices and a scratchy sound that tells me someone has the speaker covered with their hands.
“Hey Chase.” Her voice is just above a whisper and I press my teeth together to resist the urge to snap at her. She sounds reluctant to talk to me and I’m angry all over again.
“What’s going on Mia?” I lash out, and squeeze my eyes shut knowing I sound like an asshole.
She sighs and I hear more murmuring in the background. “This really isn’t a good time, Chase. What did you need?”
“Nicole needs you. We’re going on stage in forty-five minutes and I just found out you’re not coming to see us.”
“I can’t.”
I feel my free hand tighten into a fist and I glare at the cement wall wondering if punching it will ease the pain or the sense of foreboding that I feel all over and can’t explain.
“Why haven’t you told Nicole you’re in Minneapolis or that you lost your job yet?” Why do I feel like interrogating Mia is going to get me anywhere? I’m lucky she hasn’t called me a prick and hung up yet.
I want to screw the concert and find out where the fuck she’s at and see her. I’m going crazy and she’s freaking me out. All emotions I don’t handle well. The cement wall in front of me is looking more appealing every freaking second. Pressing my free palm against the wall, I lean against it and let the cement cool me down a little bit.
“I’m not trying to be a prick, Mia. Are you okay?”
Her voice is weak when she speaks again. “I’m … not. I have to go Chase.”
Shit. Something lodges in my throat and I have no idea what’s going on right now, but Mia is scaring the hell out of me. “Just wait. Before you hang up, I’m getting a pass for you. Come anytime you can. We don’t go on for almost an hour and we’ll be on stage for two. Show up at the south doors and I’ll have Darren out there. Just come, Mia. It’d mean a lot to Nicole tonight.” And m
e.
Wisely, I don’t say that part, but I know she knows I’m thinking it. Did that just scare her away?
“Good-bye Chase.” The phone clicks. I stare at my phone as her name flashes. She just hung up on me? Shit.
I slam the palm of my hand against the wall and am instantly thankful I didn’t punch it when my skin turns red and the pain buzzes up to my wrist. The last thing I need is a broken fist right before a tour starts. At least I’m still slightly sane. I rub my chest to get rid of the aching feeling that started when I talked to Nicole and has been slowly increasing in size and pain since Mia answered the phone.
I blare music through my mp3 player and take a few shots hoping the alcohol will calm me down but nothing helps. Without meaning to, I pace the hallway backstage and find myself constantly looking down the back hallway, expecting- hoping - to see Mia walk out at any moment, smiling and eyes dancing in amusement at my earlier freak out. Except she never comes, and I know something is wrong.
Before I know it, one of our roadies, Scotty, comes out and tells me it’s time to get our asses on stage. The stage. It’s the one place where every other thought leaves my head and all I can see and feel and sense is our music. It’s the last place I want to be right now. I just don’t know where else to go. Hell, I don’t have anywhere else to go.
Reluctantly, I make my way towards the stage and spot Zack leaning around the corner, some cheesy hazy eyed look all over him. I know without even turning that he’s looking at Nic. She’s probably still freaking out and he’s standing back being amused by the whole ordeal.
I resist the urge to start demanding answers from him about Mia. Where do her parents live? Where does Elijah live? What’s his number? Where the fuck is she? Zack would smack me over the back of the head and tell me to calm the fuck down. And since he can’t keep anything from Nic, and we have to be on stage in five minutes, now is most definitely not the time to say anything.
Instead, I push him forward so he trips over his own two feet. “Come on, man. Quit drooling over your wife and let’s get this show on the road.”