AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ll go ahead and tell her to get loose,” Vince mumbles, his cheeks reddening—Apollo snickers like a schoolgirl.
On the other line, my mom squeals. “Oh, I forgot how charming British people sound! You could tell me to fuck off, and I’d take it as a compliment!”
Now, it was my turn to blush. “We should get going, Mom,” I say quickly.
She sighs, “Oh, of course! You with your rockstar agenda, barely making time for your dear old mom.”
Priya laughs. “I’ll tell her to call you more,” she adds.
“Maybe if you think I’m cool, she’ll finally think I’m cool,” my mom says.
“We do have to go, Mom,” I urge.
“Fine. Fine. Go wrangle the fans and haul some amps or whatever you do.”
“That’s not close, but bye, Mom.”
“Bye, Lyndsey. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” I says as I hang up the phone.
Priya claps her hands in delight. “Your mom is such a sweetheart!”
“Something like that,” I mumble.
Vince thumped me on the shoulder. “Oh, come off it. She’s cool. I can’t wait to meet her.” He pauses momentarily, realizing what he said, before adding, “If that’s what you want.”
“I meant to tell all of you my mom invited you to Thanksgiving,” I explain.
While Thanksgiving was still over a month away, my mom concocted the convoluted scheme, known to her and Abbie as “Operation Rockstar Thanksgiving,” the day after I signed the NDA. This was the first time I felt comfortable telling the band about it. However, I had a feeling that once the band was physically in front of my mom, her fangirl antics might be a bit more intense.
I expected everyone to list pre-planned excuses. Apollo and Henry had existing family plans, but Priya and Vince’s eyes lit up.
“I’d love that! I always forget about American Thanksgiving and spend it alone, feeling weird,” Priya says.
She turns to Vince. “I can be your buffer; make sure you’re on your best behavior.”
“Okay, rude of you to think I’ll need a buffer, but yes, Lyndsey, tell your mom we’d love to come.”
“Should I call her Mrs. Vynse? Oh, fuck, Priya, should we bring something? Can you cook? I still can’t cook for shit,” Vince is spiraling. I can see the nervous crease forming between his eyebrows.
“Hey, you’ve got a month to figure it out, and you can call her Mikki,” I say, grabbing his elbow. Vince smiles at me before looping his arm around my waist. “Wait until she finds out that my mystery girl has been under her roof this entire time,” Vince jokes.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t remind me,” I groan.
“Give it forty-eight hours, and it’ll all blow over,”
Two days later, we’re back on the bus heading to Montreal, and my morning social media browse includes zero mentions of Vince or his love life, just the way I like it.
My phone buzzes, and Allison’s name flashes across the screen. “Hey, Al, what’s up?” I ask.
“Hey! So, I hear you’ll be home for Thanksgiving with the band?” She squeals.
I roll my eyes; the Hollywood rumor mill had nothing on Mikki Vynse.
“Yeah, it’ll be a good time. You’ll be home, right?”
“Yes! And I want every last bit of gossip you can give me, NDA permitting.” She begs as I move to my bunk for some privacy. “About that,” I start. “I’m the mystery girl,” I blurt. “With Vince. It’s me. We’re, uh, dating.”
