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But much like Eric dodged me, Lily dodges Sandra before her hand can touch her.
I see Sandra getting weirded out, surprised to be refuted like that. “Where did that come from?”
“Your former sister-in-law,” Lily says deadpan.
Sandra’s eyes go wide, and she sighs heavily. With a frown she nods and says softly, “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”
Sandra leaves, and I motion towards the door. Lily, however, does not give up on me.
“Do you really have to leave?” she says, big blue eyes staring up at me, nearly begging for my attention.
I ponder for a second. I really do need to set everything up for tomorrow, but I’m the boss. I can make calls at midnight that will be answered without hesitation.
“Will it make you happy if I stay?” I ask.
Her eyes are devious, knowing she has me wrapped around her finger. “Yes,” she says.
“Then I’ll stay.”
She guides me by the arm towards backstage and leaves me on the sidelines to watch her play with her band.
Chapter Thirteen
LILY
We’reonthebiggeststage we’ve ever had in our careers. The field and the bleachers are currently empty, but I can vividly imagine what they will look like filled, and I am giddy with excitement.
The band members play scales on the guitar and bass, testing the acoustics, and Emerson, the drummer, gently taps his drumsticks as he speaks to me on the microphone.
“Alright, Lily,” he starts, “imagine this place packed to the brim. But instead of opening for Sweets Tyler, she’s the one opening for you. They saw her show, now they’re screaming your name. You say good night - say good night, Lily!”
“Good night!” I shout on my microphone, pumped.
“Good… And now the fans are waiting. Waiting for your first song. What will it be?”
I pull from memory and go back to one of our first singles, back when we were more rock and less pop.
I sing the chorus like a rhythmic chant, and the boys soon join in, harmonizing with me. This song has evolved into an anthem of non-conformity and resonates with our teenage fans. It only feels right that it has a place on our setlist.
I sing with all my might, keeping my eyes shut most of the time to fantasize about that stadium being completely full and roaring. When the band stops and asks for a break, I ask to stay.
Free of the almost religious furor of music, I look to the sideline and see that Brody is still there, hands in his pockets, leaning against a pole, and looking at me longingly.
I wonder if he can see my longing for him too.
Moving my eyes away from him, I start to sing a cappella the song I composed for him. I sing in a slow tempo, completely taking my time. My eyes sometimes turn to him, but soon close, getting completely lost in the song.
I don’t notice him approaching me. When I do, I get startled, and quit singing the exact same moment.
“You scared me!” I say, pushing him away playfully. But my meager strength can’t move him.
“This song needs a happy ending,” Brody says, arms crossed and looking at me from head to toe.
I look back at him and cross my arms as well. “Well, that depends on you, doesn’t it?”
He seems confused, frowning and briefly shaking his head “How come?” he says.
“Don’t you remember what you said? That if I were someone Sandra didn’t know, then it would be okay?”
