“What are you doing?” I ask as the parade marches into my room.
“Celebrating the opening of your tour,” Callie quips. She holds up a bottle of ginger ale, and I can see Casey has three glasses.
I stare at them in confusion. “What about Saxon?”
“If you’re not going, we’re not going,” Casey chimes in. “I already called Molly and told her to meet us here instead.”
I sigh. There’s no way out of this one, but I suspect it’s probably good I’m trapped right now. I didn’t like the direction of my thoughts in the shower. I need a buffer, and these two have turned protecting me from myself into an art form.
“Well, then I guess I better finish getting dressed,” I mutter moving back to my suitcase.
“Don’t feel like you need to wear clothes on our account,” Callie teases.
“Hey!” Casey cries, and she rolls her eyes.
“Oh, please. Even you think he’s hot. Get over it. Pass me those glasses.”
I laugh as they exchange mock glares before Casey finally relents and hands over a glass. God, I love them together. It’s like watching a rainbow trying to trash-talk a unicorn. Casey would kill me if I ever said that out loud, but it’s just so damn adorable.
“Wow. Blanchard Crest Ginger Ale, no less. You’re serious about this,” I observe, pulling a t-shirt over my head.
“Only the best for my favorite rock star,” Callie sings, earning her another annoyed look from Casey.
“Fine. Second favorite rock star,” she groans.
It’s Casey’s turn to roll his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Love you, hon,” she chirps, giving him a quick kiss. He shakes his head, but they exchange a grin that turns me into the intruder.
I clear my throat. “Do the others know we’re not going out?” I ask as Callie returns to pouring the fake Champagne and hands me a glass.
“Yeah, we told them we’re just going to do something with the gang tomorrow. I let Holland know. She didn’t seem to mind,” Callie says.
I find my stomach tightening at the mention of Holland. I still don’t know why. That look.
“She’s really a remarkable person,” Callie continues, which is how I know I’ve done a good job hiding my reaction. She can read me better than anyone. “Did you know she actually has a biology degree? She was pre-med before she decided to pursue music full-time. Oh, and she writes children’s books! I think she’s published a couple. Crazy.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s impressive.”
She nods. “She’s not arrogant or anything, though. You wouldn’t know how smart she is talking to her. She’s really down to earth. Gosh, her music is so good, too. Dude, they killed ‘Perfect Storm’ tonight, don’t you think? I mean, killed it!”
Casey and I exchange amused looks at her casual use of our lingo. We’re converting her. Uh oh.
She waves her hand. “Ok, anyway, this is about you two, not Holland. So, back to business.” She raises her glass and we do the same, holding our breath, preparing for her masterful speech that will go down in the annals of history and be inscribed on monuments. She’s probably written us a beautiful ode to friendship and stirring aspirations. We grip our glasses. We watch. We wait. And…silence.
She stares at us. We stare back. Her face scrunches into the adorable pout she does when she’s annoyed with us. We shrug.
“Well, is someone gonna say something or what?” she blurts.
“I thought you were giving the speech, babe!” Casey cries.
“Me? Why would I give the speech?”
“I don’t know!” he returns in exasperation. “This whole ginger ale thing was your idea!”
“It’s a good idea! I just don’t think I should be the one giving the speech.”
“Well, why would we toast ourselves?”
“You do it all the time!”
I laugh, I can’t help it, and put an end to their argument. “Ok, fine, I’ll give the speech,” I say, and I can tell they’re surprised. Even after all this time, as far as we’ve come over the last few months, they still seem shocked any time I demonstrate even an ounce of interest in acting like a human being. I try not to be annoyed.
“A dark road traveled is not a dark road lost when light turns dark into a path. Labor on, oh weary one, for the end has come now that the journey’s begun.”
There’s silence as they stare at me, and I almost feel shy.
“What’s that from?” Callie asks, her gaze searching mine.
I swallow. “Tuesday night.”
I swear there’s a glisten in her eyes as she nods. “Well, ok then,” she says quietly, clinking my glass. “To the new journey.”
“I love it, man,” Casey says, touching my glass as well.
We all take a sip.
“That would make one hell of a cat poster.”
I laugh as Callie smacks him.
∞∞∞
Molly joins us about an hour later, and I get a huge hug. She’s a sweet girl, and is one of Casey’s closest siblings. She’s never blamed me for Elena the way most of his family did, although no one blamed me more than my own aunt. I haven’t spoken to her since that day, since the news broke. The day she left me a message saying no one who could do that to an angel like Elena would be family to her.
I guess it hurt at the time. I mean, I was such a mess during those first few months it’s impossible to tell which dagger slicing into your gut is the one causing the fatal bleeding. My aunt actually told me it should have been me. She always loved Elena. Thought I didn’t deserve her. She wasn’t the only one. I still believe that. I’m not sure there’s enough therapy on this planet to ever change that.
I’m happy Casey and Molly have the chance to connect while we’re in Houston, but family reunions don’t work the same for me. Molly looks a little bit like her. Ok, a lot like her, the way her eyes light up when she smiles. The texture of her hair. Her laugh. Of course it’s not her fault she’s bringing it all back, and I try to stay polite and positive during the visit, but the earlier heaviness returns as a concrete block.
“Sorry I wasn’t able to make it to your show tonight,” she says. “I bet it was amazing.”
“It was,” Callie confirms. “I’m Callie, by the way.”
“I figured. So nice to finally meet you,” Molly responds, exchanging a warm hug with her before smacking her brother. “Thanks for introducing us, jerk.”
Casey shrinks a bit with a sheepish grin. “Sorry! You figured it out.”
She rolls her eyes and turns back to Callie. “Anyway, thank you for giving my brother a reason to actually call us. Even though all we ever get is Callie, Callie, Callie, it’s nice to hear his voice more than once a year.”
“Oh, please! I actually went home for Christmas last year!” Casey points out.
“Uh, no. You needed a place to crash when you came home to play that show at the Towne Centre.”
“Whatever. I was still home.”
“Except you wouldn’t even come to dinner at Mom and Dad’s.”
Callie and I exchange a look as they argue, and she casts me an amused grin. I try to return it, but am having a lot of trouble with this conversation, with Molly. I can’t stop staring at her hair. I wish she’d cut it. I wish she didn’t allow her long, dark locks to flow down her back in gentle waves just like Elena used to do. When she turns her back to continue yelling at Casey, I almost choke.
“So, Luke, how have you been?” she asks, suddenly confronting me. My heart starts racing, something akin to panic mounting in my chest, and I have no idea what to do with it. I don’t understand what’s happening, just that I can’t focus all of a sudden, breathe in enough oxygen. I blink.
“Um, good. I’m doing really well,” I force out. She smiles at my lie and squeezes my arm.
“That’s great. I’m glad to hear that. We were so worried about you. You just disappeared.”
I nod in a numb daze, and can feel Callie’s eyes. She has to know
something’s wrong. She always does. She has to see the walls are shrinking.
She clears her throat. “So, Molly, tell me about working at the animal shelter. That must be so interesting!”
Her redirection works, and I hate how I suddenly want to hide more than anything. I love Molly, but I can’t see her. I can’t be here. I hate that this is happening, that once again my drama is ruining a moment, dragging down the people I love.
Still, I can’t stop it, and a small ember of fear burns low as the evening wears on, panic that it’s going to be a hard night when the room quiets and the lights go out. The heaviness grows, pressing on my lungs until it reaches a physical ache. I can sense Callie’s attention more and more as I withdraw into myself, and know without a doubt she’s aware something’s up. She knows I’m starting to shatter again, that I need to be in someone’s arms, to be held, but I don’t want to let that happen. It shouldn’t be her. I know that, and I try to force as many smiles as I can to ease her mind. To temper that vigorous compassion that drives her into other people’s pain. I know they love me, but I don’t want to be their constant burden. I love them, too.
But I just can’t breathe all of a sudden.
“You guys have an early morning, don’t you?” Callie asks finally, and I immediately know what she’s doing. Rescuing me like she so often does with that grace that disguises it from everyone else. It’s her smile, the way it always seems to turn a goodbye into a simple invitation for the next meeting. I’d never really felt like I’d had a choice except to show up again in those early days at Jemma’s.
Casey sighs. “Yeah, we do. The car’s picking us up at 7 to take us to the radio station.”
“Oh, ok! Well, I won’t keep you up then. I’ve got work in the morning anyway,” Molly says with an understanding smile as she rises.
We do the same. “It was so good to see you again, Molly,” I manage, reaching for a hug. She returns it, a real one, and I start to shake. Oh god. I need them all to leave. Now.
“I’ll walk you out, sis,” Casey says.
“See you tomorrow?” Molly asks Callie who grins and gives a hug of her own.
“Looking forward to it!”
Then, we’re alone. I feel Callie’s gaze and draw in a ragged breath. I need her to leave, too. I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t want her to comfort me right now. I just want her to be happy and safe and force me to confront my demons on my own for once. But I know she won’t, so I don’t even try.
She doesn’t say anything as the horrible tears invade my eyes. I swipe at them and drop to the edge of the bed, leaning my head in my hands. I don’t even know how to start explaining what’s going on inside of me, which is why I love her so much. I know I won’t have to. She covers the distance between us and puts her arms around me, pulling me against her. I try to breathe. To fight the weight pressing into my chest, clamping down. God, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.
“It was a long day, Luke. A difficult one with everything you had to face coming back. You were amazing,” she says softly.
I nod through my silent tears, grateful there are no embarrassing sobs this time. I pull away and swat at my face again. Fighting to put myself back together.
“I’m ok,” I whisper. “It was a lot to handle…and then seeing Molly again.”
She sighs. “I know. It was brave of you to even try.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Brave. Yeah right.”
“Don’t even think about belittling yourself,” she barks with a smile, and I manage to remove the rest of the tears. She grows serious again. “But you’re not alone anymore. You need to promise me you understand that.”
I blink and meet her gaze. She hugs me again, and I can almost feel the tension start to lift.
“Thanks, Cal.”
“Get some rest, ok?” she says, pulling away and squeezing my hand.
I nod and draw in another deep breath. “You, too. Tell Casey I said good night.”
She smiles and rubs my arm one last time as she rises to her feet. “I will. You got this, kid. I know you do.”
∞∞∞
The radio session goes well the following morning. We do a brief interview with host Russ, followed by a short acoustic set, which seems to go over well with the station and listeners. Houston has always embraced us, so I’m not surprised by the outpouring of support. There’s something about your hometown, the way they claim you. They raised you, created you, so now you belong to them.
We have to check out of our hotel when we get back from the radio station, since we’ll roll out to our next stop immediately after tonight’s show. We’re supposed to be in New Orleans tomorrow night, so I know they’re going to want to move as soon as possible. Our tour manager, Kenneth, runs a tight ship. Even I’m afraid of him.
Casey and Callie leave right away for Molly’s house to reconnect with some of his family and friends. After what happened last night, there’s no way I’d survive that, so I turn down the offer. I know Callie understands and let her soothe Casey who whines until they’re out of earshot at least. I feel badly, but I just can’t put myself in that situation right now. It’s hard enough being home without shoving memories into the open wounds. I don’t really feel like doing anything else, so I hang out in my room as long as possible and then decide to retire to the bus for a while. Eli and Sweeny had left an hour ago after jabbering all morning about some new bar they wanted to check out, and I’m lured by the thought of an empty bus.
I’m surprised to see the door already open as I approach with my suitcase. I guess I was wrong about Eli and Sweeny and am actually disappointed they changed their minds. Still, it’s their house as much as mine, so I brace myself for a blast of energy and climb the stairs.
I stop cold.
“Luke! Oh, um…hi. I’m sorry, Callie said…”
I force a smile and wave my hand. “No, it’s fine, don’t get up,” I say.
Shit. I can’t retreat now.
Holland returns my smile with a stiff one of her own, but straightens on the couch anyway. She’d been writing something in a notebook and closes it as discreetly as possible. Clearly, not discreetly enough.
“Really, it’s fine. I just didn’t feel like going out and was planning to watch a movie or something in the back to rest before tonight,” I say moving through the open partition into the living area where she’d been reclined. “I’ll stay out of your way.”
She seems conflicted. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m on your bus when I have my own.”
I smile again and shake my head. “If your band is anything like mine, I’m pretty sure I can guess.”
This time her smile is warmer than any of the others I’ve gotten so far. God, it’s breathtaking.
“I love them dearly. I do, but sometimes…you just need a break, you know? And Callie said she was pretty sure yours would be empty since you all were going out.”
“Like I said, it makes sense. It’s fine. I’ll stay out of your way. Stay as long as you want. They keep the fridge well-stocked, too, so help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
She’s watching me again. Studying my every move. Evaluating. I’m pretty sure I’ll fail, but there’s nothing I can do.
“I’m just gonna grab the key to the luggage bay to load my stuff.”
I move to the drawer where we keep the key and can feel her gaze burning a hole in my back. I want to say something, to just get it out there, but I know that whatever it is could make things a hundred times worse. We have a long tour ahead of us and I’ve done a lot of terrible things.
“Mind if I peek in on your set tonight? Callie won’t stop talking about how great it was,” I toss casually, trying to dispel the awkwardness as I search through the junk drawer. Where is that damn key? And where did all these stupid rubber bands come from?
“Really? Yeah, of course! That would be awesome. You guys killed it last night. Is it good to be back?”
I swallow. She
’s just being polite.
“It’s great. I missed the music,” I manage in a steady voice.
Finally! I grab the key and offer a quick smile as I turn around. “Just gonna load up. I’ll be back,” I explain. She nods and returns to her notebook.
My heart is pounding as I step off the bus and I have no idea why. Is it because of her question? Is it because she got close to a wound? Or is it her. There’s something about her. I suspect she hates me for some reason and yet she’s never been rude. Callie immediately clicked with her so I know she’s incredible. I’m just so confused at the moment, and if I had any other choice, I would not go back to face her, but it’s too late. I already said I’d be returning. I’d look ridiculous if I just disappeared now. Plus, I have to return the key. That damn key!
I load my suitcase with the rest of the luggage and relock the luggage bay. I force myself to convert my death march into something less absurd and begin climbing the stairs again. She’s an attractive, confident woman; so what? I’ve dealt with countless of them over the course of my life, but maybe that’s the problem.
“You writing?” I ask, and nearly flinch at the stupid question.
A small smile flickers across her lips and I know she’s thinking the same thing. She looks adorable as she bites the edge of her pen and looks up at me. “Yep,” she says through her clenched teeth, still smiling.
I return it and shake my head with a shy grin. “Sorry, I know. Just making conversation, I guess. Ok, I’ll leave you alone.”
I start moving past her toward the back.
“Luke, wait!” she calls.
Surprised, I stop and turn. Her eyes have changed a bit. The amusement is gone, and I brace myself once more.
“Look, I’ll just say this, ok? I know it’s awkward, but we have a long tour and will be spending lots of time together. I don’t want drama in my life, ok?”
I stare at her. I have no idea what that means. “Um, ok. I don’t either,” I reply.
She’s fishing for words. “I just mean…Crap!” She covers her face, clearly embarrassed all of a sudden. “Wow, ok, you know what? I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just say things sometimes.” She shakes her head, and I swear she’s blushing.
Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) Page 2