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“Early. Gotta get to Little Creek by six, so we’ll need to be on the road by eight. That okay with everyone?” I glanced around.
Everyone nodded.
“Good. Make sure you pack enough to cover the two weeks, because I don’t know if we’ll have access to a laundry or anything along the way.”
“Sure, Dad,” muttered Harry with a roll of his eyes.
“And things like medications and shit,” I added, ignoring his comment. “So I’ll pick you guys up at Harry’s, and then we will swing past your place, okay?” I said, directing my question at Micah.
She nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Great.” I slapped my leg and stood up. “Then go home and enjoy your last night of freedom for a while.”
***
By ten that evening I was wrecked. Everything was ready to go. I’d emailed all the venues confirming our shows, packed, dropped Broosky over at Mom and Dad’s, and picked up and cleaned the van.
That last job had taken me fucking hours—and it still looked like a piece of shit. But old Betsy would always have a special place in my heart.
I fell into bed, my mind refusing to switch off. Had I forgotten anything? This tour had to go well. This was my chance to prove to everyone—including myself—that I could do this; show them I wasn’t a complete screw-up. I only hoped that Harry would be adult enough to put aside our issues, at least just for the two weeks.
Because the last thing I needed was his fucking bullshit.
Chapter Ten
Micah
My eyes widened as I watched the old campervan choke its way down the street toward me. You have got to be kidding me. That was our bus? It came to an abrupt stop in front of me, a cloud of smoke shooting out from the exhaust pipe.
“And how far is this supposed to get us?” I asked Sax as he got out.
“She’s old and not in great shape, but you’d be surprised how durable she is.” He almost looked insulted. “This thing got me through a few awesome road trips in my time. Besides, you guys aren’t exactly in the position to be forking out for accommodation,” he smirked. “When you book out Oncara Stadium, then we’ll talk.”
I screwed my nose up at him as I stepped up and into the camper. Okay, so inside wasn’t quite as bad. It looked relatively clean—albeit worn and tired.
“Go down the end, and to your right is a room with a double bed. That was my room when I toured with Severed, but being that you’re the only girl, you can have it. I’ll bunk with the guys.”
I slid the door open. A room? I snorted. I’d have to climb over the bed to get in the room. It was literally a bed surrounded by walls.
“Okay, so it’s not the fucking Hilton, but I’m sure you’ll cope,” he said, his tone defensive.
Did I have a choice? I dropped my bag on my bed and walked back out to the living room/kitchenette.
“Is there, uh, a bathroom?” I asked, rubbing my neck. Of all the days to get my period, it had to be today. This was going to be hell.
Sax shook his head. “Well, there is but it doesn’t work. Don’t worry, we pass a lot of gas stations. Anytime you need to stop, just say the word.”
I nodded and slid into the seat closest to me. Why had I thought this was a good idea? Forget the fact that this was an awesome opportunity for my career; I was a seventeen-year-old girl embarking on a road trip with four guys in their mid-twenties. How could that not be a recipe for trouble?
My age hadn’t been mentioned since Sax had taken copies of my particulars. I’d spent so long being Micah that it was second nature to me now. It was only situations like this where I remembered how young I really was.
Stop being such a girl. You can take care of yourself. You have for the last three years; why is this any different?
I buckled my seat belt as we took off down the street. Harry was driving, with Liam sitting in the front next to him. Will and Kam—both who I’d had little contact with to date—sat down the back. Sax sat opposite me. His eyes were closed, arms crossed, and his feet stretched out on the seat next to him. I took the moment to study him.
My heart fluttered like a freaking schoolgirl whenever he was within two feet of me—which I suppose was fitting, considering I technically should still have been in school.
His dark, wavy hair looked like it had never met a brush, but it didn’t matter—the bed head suited him. He had three-day stubble going on, which made him look even sexier . . . if that were possible. He wore his usual tee shirt and jeans, which displayed his muscular, athletic frame perfectly.
