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He held his phone up which still showed the same concert ticket loading screen he’d been stuck on for the past two hours.
I refrained from pouting because the last time I’d done that, he’d looked utterly crushed. It wasn’t his fault the damn concert was so popular we couldn’t even get on the website to try for tickets.
“Kian?” I asked hopefully.
“No dice, Little Demon. Should we give up?”
I gave him a look.
“Right. Gotcha. No quitting when Paramore pop-up concert tickets are at stake. I’ll keep staring at this never-ending refresh screen.”
Damn right. When your favorite band ever announced a pop-up show for that weekend as a surprise for their superfans, you didn’t just give up on getting tickets. “Nash?” I called to my boss in his office behind me. “Gimme some good news!”
“Already told you a dozen times; I’ll yell if I get on. Would you at least do some work out there while we’re all trying to get these tickets for you?”
I stared dismally down at my phone. The loading screen changed to one that announced:Paramore Concert Tickets are now sold out. Enjoy your day.
“No!” I wailed. “How am I supposed to enjoy my day when I have no tickets! You all got the same message?”
Kian nodded, showing me an identical message.
Fang closed out of his and put the phone down on the bar top. “Sorry, Pix. I know how much you wanted to go.”
If it had just been about me, I wouldn’t have been so disappointed, even though I really did freaking love Paramore. But I really wanted to take Kara. Queenie had promised to babysit Hayley Jade, and Kara had eventually agreed to come to the concert, I think only because she knew it would be one of our last chances to hang out. She and Hayley Jade would be moving out soon, going back home to her parents’ place in the middle of nowhere.
I wasn’t happy about that. Sally-Ann’s words kept ringing over and over in my head. That shame would be brought upon Kara’s head for having a baby before she was married. I didn’t want that life for my sister. I wanted her to stay here with me.
But she was an adult. One with no job. No money. And no support. It was my place or back home. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to put a hundred thousand miles between her and the nightmare Caleb had put her through here.
Even if what she was going home to didn’t seem much better. It was what she knew though, and I knew there was a comfort in the familiar. I didn’t blame her for seeking that out after everything she’d been through.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text, and I opened it. I’d given Kara an old phone of mine with a new SIM card.
Kara:So? Did you get the tickets?
I sent back a sad face emoji.
Kara:It’s not as good as concert tickets, but here’s some Hayley Jade spam to cheer you up.
I opened the photos as quick as I could, squealing at how many there were. But quickly wrote back to my sister before going through them properly.
Rebel:Nothing is better than Hayley Jade spam. I miss her so much.
Kara:You saw her about three hours ago.
Rebel:Too long!
Kara just sent back a laughing emoji, well used to how obsessive I’d become about my niece in the past week or so since she’d been brought home. She’d only spent a single night in the hospital for some fluids, but she was a strong little girl, just like her mama, and the two of them had been flourishing since they’d been reunited.
I stared down at my phone, grinning like a loon. “Kian, look at this. No, wait, wait. Look at this one.” I thumbed across the screen to a photo of Hayley Jade poking her tongue out. “Isn’t this cute? She does that when she’s hungry, I think. And ohhhh, this is a good one. Kara had just bathed her, and she was all snug and warm in her new onesie pajamas.”
Kian squinted at the phone. “Does that onesie say ‘Auntie’s Girl’ on it?”
I nodded proudly. “I bought it. ’Cause it’s true. She’s definitely auntie’s girl.”
Vaughn pulled up a seat at the bar and tossed a peanut into his mouth. I hadn’t even seen him come in. I was so busy trying to get tickets and cooing over my niece. He’d conveniently been unavailable for the loading page party I’d had with the others. I suspected he just hadn’t wanted to stare at a screen and listen to me wail about concert injustices.
He leaned back on the barstool. “How would you even know if you’re her favorite? She’s like what? A month old? It’s not like she can shout, ‘Aunty Rebel, you’re the best aunty I have.’ I saw her stare at a wall for a good twenty minutes the other day. Pretty sure that wall is more her favorite than you are.”
