AllFreeNovel
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“Can your roomies meet you?” I press.
“No, they have a gig this weekend. For pay.”
“Well, then, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I’m not mentally prepared for a solo act. Even after all of these years playing, I still get—”
“Nervous.”
Zander sighs. “Yeah. I just wish Kendra had a legitimate excuse. I was counting on her.”
“Can you reschedule?”
He shakes his head. “No, the owner considers it a cancellation. A last minute one, at that. I will lose my reserved spot for months as a penalty.” He throws back his beer, placing the glass bottle on the bar. Claire and Resa are teetering on the edge of the stools, waving their hands in the air to the beat of the drums. Bryce and Blake chat about all the times they have nearly been arrested and the magic it takes to get charges dropped. Who would have thought that Blake had a bad-boy streak? Bryce is a bit easier to imagine.
“Angie?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a huge”—my heart stops—“favor that will earn you several future favors? Please,” he pleads solemnly.
No. I know exactly what Zander is going to ask before he actually does. Fear creeps into my body, possessing me from the inside out. I am paralyzed, immobile. His “please” rings in my ears, and my mind flashes to all of the times over the past couple of years that he was by my side to help me with my problems. He would never ask unless he was desperate, this I know.
“Z, I haven’t done this in a long time. The memories, the feelings, everything. I just don’t know if I can.”
“I know, Angie. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”
I frown and tilt my eyes to the floor. “I just—”
“No worries,” he says softly. “Doing a solo act can be done, even if it is going to look pathetic.”
His sadness and my feeling responsible for it stab at me. He can see that I am contemplating saying “yes.” His mind churns with a sprig of hope, coming up with ways to bribe me into relenting.
“Add tech support for life to the multiple favors proposition. Oh, and I will detail your car. And stock your candy supply.”
“Z, you know I would do anything for you. But this—”
“I know, Angie, forget I asked. I am selfish. And a jerk. I know it reminds you of—” His sentence cuts off, not wanting to say his name, for fear of upsetting me.
I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth. “I’ll do it.”
“Really?”
“But you have to back me. And I mean it. Oh, and I get to pick the song.”
“Anything you want, you get. I can Google chords if I need to. Here, look at my playlist,” he says handing over his phone. “Pick from here if you want or something else.”
I scan through the hundreds of songs he has listed and finally settle on one that I like, pointing to it.
“Perfect,” he says eagerly. “This is going to be fun.”
I am so on edge.
“I’m going to run to the restroom to freshen up.”
I slip off the bar stool and make my way through the crowd to the other side of the room where the restrooms are located. I have approximately six minutes before I have to be on stage. As I step into the hallway, my arm is tugged, jolting me back. Pain seers through my limb. The yanking inflames my old injury, making me wince.
“Hey! Ouch! Let go!”
