He puts one strong hand over mine and the other on my waist, drawing me close. “Gone, yes, but missing you.” His sweet words have me leaning in faster for his kiss as he bends toward me, but the door whips open.
“Oh, hey, Bryce.” Jill looks to me. “Where’s Sam?”
Bryce and I reluctantly step apart.
“Had to go,” I say. “He was just checking that I have everything ready for tomorrow.” My pointed look at Jill says, Keep your trap shut, before I turn toward Bryce. “Let me get my purse and we can go,” I say.
“Sure,” he says with a quick smile, and follows me back into the apartment.
“Hi, Bryce,” Gwen and Ashley say in unison, their voices friendly and just a little flirtatious. As I go to my room, I can hear them asking about the baseball team, then their questions about where he’s taking me. I hear something about a sushi bar, which surprises me. Bryce rarely moves out of his comfort zone. And sports are pretty much the extent of it. Nine times out of ten, we go to Lucky’s, a local sports bar. I don’t mind since it’s a college hangout too, but obviously Bryce is trying to do something special to send me off.
In my bedroom, I pick up my purse and take a deep breath, trying to forget about Sam. I’m going out with my boyfriend of seven months, and not only is he looking good, he’s taking me to sushi. This is going to be our last night for the next six weeks, so I want to enjoy it.
Screw Sam.
Screw the past.
Tomorrow I’m leaving town to tour with not only Luminescent Juliet but also two other bands. Bands signed to major labels. Bands that get national coverage. Everything in my life—excluding Sam—is going perfect right now. No one can take that away from me.
Chapter 3
The front of a dusty antique store seems like a strange place for a band tour to begin, but that’s exactly where Jill and I find ourselves standing the next day. Apparently, Luminescent Juliet practices in the space above the shop. Since it’s where they keep all their gear and instruments, it’s where the huge, intimidating black-and-gray tour bus is picking us up. According to Romeo, producers usually fly in bands when they join a tour, but because the most recent stop was Chicago—the tour has been going for five weeks already and the last three shows didn’t have an opening act—the manager decided to have the bus pick us up and drive us to Denver.
We try to stay out of the way as the chaotic scene unfolds. Packed duffels, boxes of food, instruments, and people fill the sidewalk between the store and the bus. I already put my suitcase near the baggage slots below the bus, and added my backpack and food box to the pile by the front door. The only thing I’m holding on to is my camera bag, since I have no desire to see it get manhandled.
As we watch things slowly get loaded, Jill makes a commentary out the side of her mouth like a sportscaster—Score! Two suitcases are now on the bus! I bite my lip so I don’t burst out laughing.
Once everything is loaded onto the bus, I sense the reluctance hanging in the afternoon summer air. It’s clear that some of the good-byes taking place aren’t easy. Romeo bends his dark head and talks softly to a pretty, petite college girl with a two-toned—blonde and brown—ponytail. A small boy hangs on to Justin’s tattooed arm while his other arm wraps around a stunning auburn-haired young woman with a sleeve tattoo. A blonde chick dressed in a tight tank top and Daisy Dukes presses against Gabe, the one band member I’ve never met, wrapping her fingers in his shoulder-length hair while her lips form a pout. Sam stands a little ways off, on his own, smoking a cigarette and staring at the ground. Strange, I don’t recall him being a smoker.
As I continue watching the scene, I start unzipping my camera bag. I’m not an amazing photographer or anything. I’ve taken a few classes, and I’m aware of the whole angle and light thing. I’m just not a wizard with the whole angle and light thing. My talent is recognizing the right time to catch emotion. And I’m glimpsing a perfect time.
After pulling my camera out and then pushing the bag at Jill, I start moving around and snapping pictures. Romeo and the petite girl gazing at each other, forehead to forehead, with the bus looming in the background. Justin holding the tattooed girl in a tight one-armed hug while the boy clings to his other arm. Gabe being pulled into an aggressive kiss by the scantily clad blonde. And lastly, Sam staring at the ground as cigarette smoke floats in a hazy swirl around him. His brows are low. His lips flat.
When I come near him, he looks up and scowls at me, jerking the black-and-orange striped beanie down over his curls to his eyebrows. “Keep that shit away from me,” he snarls.
I lower the camera and try to push down my irritation. “Onstage? Can I photograph you onstage at least?” My tone is curt. Guess my irritation won out.
“Yeah, whatever.” He drops his cigarette in a can by the door and stalks past me.
I put the cap on the camera lens and smooth the anger from my expression. I will not let Sam get to me.
When I sidle back over to the bus, Romeo introduces me to his girlfriend, Riley. I shake hands with Justin’s girlfriend, Allie, the woman with the tattoo sleeve. I shake hands with Gabe too, since we’re meeting officially for the first time, and I can’t help but notice that nobody introduces his girlfriend. When the last farewells recommence, Jill gives me two hugs. One from her and one from Bryce—he’s at practice. Then, finally, the band and I climb onto the bus.
The bus is rocker-style and awesome. It’s split up so there’s one big room in the front, with a compact kitchen and two leather sofas, and a small room in the back with a wraparound sofa. In between the two rooms are closets, two sets of bunks, and a tiny bathroom. There are flat-screen TVs in the front and back, plus each bunk has its own tiny TV. Since there are only four bunks, I offer to sleep on the couch in the back when we’re on the road. All four band members—surprisingly, even Sam—offer me their bunks. But I insist. Really, it’s more private in the back anyway, even if each bunk has a curtain.
Gary is our bus driver, a short older guy with gray hair and thick glasses. Thus far he’s been quiet and accommodating. Romeo took charge after we got on board and made sure we all stored our things neatly. Now, as the bus is rolling down the highway, all five of us are gathered in the front room. I’m next to Gabe on one of the leather couches while Romeo and Justin sit together on the couch facing us. Sam is by himself at the small kitchen booth. Romeo is reciting his list of rules aloud, reading from a notebook in his hands. Justin looks annoyed. Gabe is motionless and quiet. Sam leans his head back against the booth, covers his forehead with his beanie, and looks visibly annoyed too.
The rules are never ending. Be respectful to Gary. No groupies on bus. (Yes!) If people are sleeping, keep it down. Clean up messes. (I’m alarmed that these two are needed.) Since the water supply is limited, shower on the bus only if necessary. Anyone can eat what’s in the fridge and cupboards, because it’s paid for with band funds. All other food is on your own. Make sure the AC is off before using the microwave or a breaker will blow. Open flame on the stovetop is not allowed while on the road.
On and on he goes. I zone in and out, trying not to notice that Sam has started to sarcastically orchestrate Romeo’s never-ending monologue, moving two fingers in the air like a conductor. Being in the same space as Sam is making me nervous, which makes me pissed off at myself. So I breathe deeply and make myself listen to Romeo drone on about laundry. According to him, we’ll each take a turn, every week if possible. I suppose between the bus travel and hotel stays, laundry might become an issue. However, none of these four men are washing my underwear.