23
THE TOUR BUSrolled along I-55 in Mississippi for Xavier’s show in Jackson that night. The landscape was beautiful. The clear sky was bright without a hint of smog. Cars passed by at a leisurely pace with no crazed motorists cutting them off. Even though Bret had traveled through most of the United States competing when he was younger, he’d never spent much time in the south. There weren’t many competitions out here. The state flag waved in all its glory over a local high school. Man, it still had the confederate flag in its right corner. So not cool. Time to change that.
In order to keep up with rehearsals, Bret and Selena had to accompany Robyn and Xavier to the south for Xavier’s concerts. Xavier would be performing three shows that week, in Nashville, New Orleans and Jackson. Before Bret had broken up with Selena, he had actually been looking forward to a laid back tour of the south. They’d even planned on stopping at some cool, greasy spoons he had seen on the show Bistros, Booths, and Bars. But now, being trapped with her was awkward as hell.
At least they were out of California. Bret needed the pick-me-up after finding out Selena’s secret. He would’ve preferred to leave the state without her. He’d be lying if he said that he was happy they were no longer together. He missed her soft hands and warm kisses. And it turned him on the way she was always challenging him. But at least he was still doing great on the show. Nine million people voted for Bret and Robyn last week. Not bad for his first, and last, season.
They continued down the highway. It was very different seeing nature instead of airport terminals like when he and Selena used to travel to competitions. Endless rows of trees rolled by with an occasional rose bush in the distance.
Wish he could say it was all roses inside this rolling can. Hell no. The bus was packed full with Selena, Bret, the driver, and Bret’s dog. The cruiser smelled nasty. A mix of Cheetos, feet, dog bones, and beer. Although . . . the Cheetos part made no sense. No one on their bus would have those. Well, Bret would, but he didn’t. Maybe the driver had a secret stash? Hmm . . .
The smell wasn’t the worst of it. It was hotter than hell inside even though they had air conditioning. Their rickety ride had seen better days. The rug looked like Technicolor puke, blindingly bright so it could cover vomit and beer stains. Kip, the driver, was up front with a couple rows of seats. There were two bunk beds on either side of the hallway. Then they had a tiny “sitting area” with two square tables, a sink, a coffee maker, and a microwave. And one seriously cramped bathroom. This bus wasn’t the Ritz.
Xavier and Robyn, of course, travelled on a luxury bus. Man, to have your own bus. Being stuck in a steel tube with Selena was no samba walk. His gut turned every time he thought about how she’d never told him about being pregnant. At least she’d been cool on this trip. She had been giving him his space for the past three days despite the occasional empty apology. Even when Banjo took a dump on her Jimmy Choo’s, she just said, “Oh, it’s okay,” then picked up her phone and ordered another pair to be sent to the next city. Decent of her, even if Bret did hate those obnoxious heels. The shoes got what they deserved.
Selena’s voice rang through his ears. He pushed Banjo off him then shut the curtain on his top bunk to avoid her.
“No, I already told you, Mom.” Selena said. “I’m not going to Blackpool. I don’t have a partner. Dima and I are done and he won’t even consider dancing with me.”
Bret didn’t even feel bad. She should’ve been honest with Bret about the miscarriage before she decided to reunite with him. And it had been her choice to tell Dima that they would never get back together. She knew by hurting Dima’s ego that she risked the chance that he would end their partnership.
“Oh, good God, Mom… I told you that Bret broke up with me. It’s over. You know why!”
Lord, I don’t want to listen to this. He grabbed his pillow, then jumped out of bed, hoping that Selena would get off the phone when she saw him.
She looked up at him, her hair still wrapped in curlers, but to Bret’s dismay, she didn’t hang up the phone.
Bret sat at the small table.
Somehow, Selena didn’t get as far away from Bret as humanly possible in this sardine can on wheels, like she’d been doing. Instead, she got up and marched over to the coffee pot.
“Mom, I’ll never find another partner like Dima. Just leave me alone, will you? Bye.” Selena went to fill her coffee mug, but Bret snatched the pot from her hand.
“Mature, Bret.”
“What? I just wanted a cup. Would you like one?”
“Sure, I take it—”
“Cream. With one teaspoon of sugar. I know.” He filled their mugs, handed Selena hers, then sat down beside her.
Just as she took a sip, the bus went over a bump and the coffee sloshed all over them, staining Selena’s top. “Aw. My new jammies!”
“Kip!” Bret yelled at the driver. “Be careful!”
“Sorry, guys,” he shouted over his shoulder. “I just got a radio from Xavier’s bus. We’re pulling over at the rest stop.”
Selena scowled. “Again?”
Bret shrugged. Even though each bus had a fully functional toilet, they’d received the riot act before they left in a sheet entitled Rules of the Road. First rule: #1 only! No Paper! No exceptions! EVER!
They pulled into the gas station. Xavier’s luxury bus crept up behind them.
“Coming with?” Bret asked. Not that he expected her to. Selena probably wouldn’t want the public to see her not looking flawless.
“No. I’d probably get kidnapped.”
“Yeah, because there are Dancing under the Stars stalkers hiding in every gas station in Mississippi.”