“I like it. Let’s plan for next weekend, although that means that we’ll miss out on a weekend with Adeline.”
It was nearly enough of a reason for me to scrap the whole idea, but I forced myself to think with my big head instead of my little one.
“We can’t give up. We have to try to convince him that Bleeding Moonlight has a future.”
Cole nodded. “He’s still behaving like a bastard, but not as bad as I thought he’d be given we’re recording an album so important to him. Maybe he’s coming around on his own.”
“Who knows what’s going on inside his head.” I shrugged. “Honestly, when he was loud and angry, at least he was easier to read. His silent glares are a lot more ominous.”
“He doesn’t glare at Adeline, though,” Cole noted. “He says rude shit, but when he looks at her, especially when she’s not looking, there’s something…more thoughtful there.”
I scrubbed at my chin. “If only he’d been less of a dick right from the beginning, he could have been a part of our conversation about her.”
Cole shrugged dismissively. “Too late for that. Plus, he’s not going to charm her with a few secret looks. But I wonder if we should invite her on the trip. She might help keep him civil.”
I shook my head. We couldn’t rely on Adeline to fix all of our problems, not when we were only a few weeks from leaving her and this place. If we were going to continue as a band, we had to be sure that we could do it with just the four of us.
And whoever we’d eventually need to find to fill Charlie’s role.
17
ADELINE
The band practice was cancelled.
Liam texted our group chat that the in-laws were staying through Wednesday, and that he couldn’t bail on them. Cold disappointment washed over my skin, but I knew he wasn’t stalling intentionally. Still, this Friday, Mason would be driving himself and Molly to Northeastern, and we were running out of time.
Mason suggested we meet at six pm on Thursday in his garage, and we all agreed to that plan, given it was our one last option.
I’d have to leave the studio early that day, since we usually worked past seven, but I knew the guys would understand.
When I went to make breakfast and told Molly that I was free until my shift at the bar, she gave me a nervous look.
“What?” I asked while throwing a banana into the blender.
“Can we go to see Mom and Dad? You promised we could visit before I left.”
I hated how thin her voice sounded, because I was the reason why it did. She knew I didn’t like going there, and over the years she had nearly given up on asking me to come with her. Of course, she didn’t know that the reason I hated that place was because it was a constant reminder of how close I’d once been to giving up on my responsibility to her.
Putting the lid on the blender, I turned around. “Of course. I’m sorry I’ve been forgetting about it.”
For once, that part was true. With everything going on in my life, I’d forgotten that Molly and I had agreed to go see them. In fact, despite my best efforts, I hadn’t spent as much time with my sister as I would have liked, and in five days, she would be leaving.
She frowned at the look on my face. “Oh, no. I’m not trying to guilt-trip you or anything. I’m not mad.”
I scrubbed my head. “I haven’t been around enough, have I? Between the album and the bar—”
Molly lifted her palm up. “Stop right there. First of all, I’m almost eighteen. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“You’re not a legal adu—”
“Uh, uh, uh!” she cut me off. “I’m not finished. My second point was going to be that you would be a friggin’ idiot not to take absolute advantage of this gift from the universe. Ade, if you wanted to move into the studio for the entire month, I would bring the boxes. This is an opportunity of a lifetime, and I will not let you ruin it for yourself by worrying about me.” She huffed. “Do you know how bad I feel for making you sacrifice the last two years of your life just so that you could take care of me?”
My eyebrows pinched. “What are you talking about? I didn’t sacrifice anything.”
“You don’t even have the decency to harbor any lingering resentment, do you?” Molly asked, flinging her arms out. “Instead of going on dates, you were picking me up from dance classes or supporting us by working at the bar. Instead of going out drinking with your friends, you were watching movies with me on the couch. Instead of letting yourself chase your dream of becoming a musician, you pushed me to pursue my own.”
“I’d given up on that dream long before what happened,” I rushed to correct her, but she shook her head.
