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“I don’t know.” I say softly.
Maybe he didn’t know what I did.
“I should probably tell Sue, right?”
“Please don’t.” I say.
So, he did know.
“I’ll make you a deal.” He says, turning towards me. “We are getting pizza after sound check. If you come over and have a slice, I won’t tell Sue.”
“Pizza?”
“Pizza. One slice. I’ll make it small.”
“Wes.”
“You are still bone thin, Abbey. A piece of pizza, a bagel, some coffee, a fucking pancake, isn’t going to make a whole lot of a difference. You’ll burn it all off on stage anyways.”
My lip trembles. I want to cry.
“Okay.”
“But I’m not letting you throw it up. I will get a lock for our bathroom door if I have to.”
“I won’t.”
“You cannot use my bus as a puking station, you got it?” He says.
“Yeah.” I nod. My eyes fill with tears, and I try to blink them back, but one rolls down my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
He puts his arms around me, pulling me into a hug. “I forgive you.” He kisses the top of my head before releasing me. “I just care about you too much to allow you to throw your life away head-deep in a toilet. So, pizza after sound check, yeah?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“Good.” He walks me the rest of the way to my bus. “That was fun for a while. Abbey?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah.” I nod.
I walk onto my bus, and Sue looks up at me. She checks her watch.
“Back early.”
“Yeah. Hey Sue. I was wondering if, after sound check, I could go back over for some pizza with his band.”
“Pizza?” She repeats, clearly surprised.
I nod.
“Okay. But you have to eat at least one slice and a sandwich after the show.”
I sigh. “No mustard.”
“Fine. You have about thirty minutes until sound check.”
