Page 290 of End Game

In person.

Because I'm not a complete asshole.

Mostly.

Cruz finishes tuning and stares at me. “Four weeks?”

“Yes.”

“With Signal Saints.”

“Yes.”

“Writing their album.”

“Potentially contributing to their album. Let's not make it weird.”

Mila throws a drumstick at me.

I catch it badly.

It hits my chest and falls.

“Why the fuck are you talking like you're considering not going?”

“I didn't say that.”

“You're making your panic face.”

“I do not have a panic face.”

Three people stare at me.

Okay.

Rude.

Alex sets his bass down. “When?”

“March.”

“Any gigs?”

“We have the Lair show the second weekend.”

Cruz waves one hand. “We'll cancel.”

My head snaps toward him. “No.”

“You want us to do a show without you?”

“Also no.”

“We could get somebody to fill in.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Mila looks at me. “Dex.”