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Slowly reaching out for her phone, Riley checked the time. It was almost six in the morning, which meant the alarm she’d set for seven still had an hour to go. Riley wasn’t sure how she could lay still for another hour. Her muscles ached from staying so still, and yet she didn’t know how to relax. There was something about being too close to Harlow that was throwing all of Riley’s feelings into a loop.
Riley still hadn’t processed her feelings for Harlow. They were a mix of intrigue and attraction, and Riley didn’t know if she wanted to just be friends with Harlow or be something more. Not that Riley thought that would be a good idea. She didn’t. But there was something about Harlow that was so damn interesting that Riley had to get to know her more, in whatever capacity Harlow was comfortable with.
Granted, Harlow seemed less than interested in getting to know Riley the night before. They had sat in silence for hours, each busy with something on their laptops. Riley assumed it was because Harlow wasn’t much of a talker, but what if it was because she didn’t like Riley? Maybe she found her annoying.
After all, Riley had been told that on more than one occasion. She was always the youngest in her friend group. If she could even call her cousin Maddie’s friends her own friends. Riley genuinely liked hanging out with her mom or grandma instead of people her own age. Oftentimes, people around her age found it weird she was still obsessed with a band that peaked when they were in high school.
But Maine Event was so much more to Riley than just a band.
Their music had saved Riley from some of her darkest days ever. Riley’s depression hit its peak during her freshman year of high school. She had no friends, had just been cut from the varsity softball team, and didn’t want to get out of bed. School was a level of hell for Riley that she didn’t know existed outside of Dante’s Inferno.
Music had always been an escape for Riley. She’d take her parents’ old records and play them on her Snoopy record player for hours. Stevie Nicks, Joni Mitchell, and Carole King seemed to understand Riley more than any modern artist ever could.
Until Maine Event.
Although the band had been formed in her hometown, Riley had only heard them play a couple of times at town events before they hit it big and were off to LA to record an album. The minute Riley heard that first single, though, she was hooked. She made a fan club website overnight and began writing song reviews and posting every photo or video she could find of the band. They gave her something to focus on that wasn’t her shitty fake friends or the fact she was no longer on the softball team. Riley found a passion with Maine Event, and that helped pull her out of her dark days.
Unable to stay still in bed any longer, Riley carefully slipped her legs out from under the sheet and stood. There were barely a few inches for her to maneuver around the bed in the small room, but Riley somehow managed to do it. Well, almost managed. Her foot rammed into the wheel of Harlow’s suitcase, causing Riley to stumble. She begged gravity not to let her fall on Harlow but it was too late. Riley fell onto the bed right beside Harlow.
Or, rather, onto Harlow.
“Holy shit,” Harlow scrambled out of bed ready to fight. Her face softened though when she saw Riley. “Oh. I should have known.”
“I’m so sorry. I swear this doesn’t happen every day with me.”
“I’m starting to doubt that.” A smile played on Harlow’s lips and Riley noticed how damn cute she looked with bedhead. “What’s that smile for?”
Riley’s smile fell. “Nothing. Sorry. I’ll see you around.”
Quickly exiting the bedroom, Riley slammed the door closed behind her. She waited a beat to see if Harlow was going to get up or go back to bed. When it was clear Harlow went back to bed, Riley quickly gathered some clothes and changed in the small bathroom. There was no way she was going to run the shower with Harlow possibly back to sleep. After changing into jeans, a tank top, and Chacos, Riley grabbed her camera, phone, and bag and exited the bus.
The Arizona sun was blazing down on her and she fished her sunglasses out of the bag. She definitely wasn’t in Maine anymore. There were still several hours before the band arrived for sound check, but Riley could at least get some shots of the crew setting up to post on social media. Riley let herself into the venue’s back door, flashing the crew badge Johnny had given her the night before. No one questioned whether she belonged there or not, which made Riley float through the backstage area.
She’d spent years of her life wondering what being on a real tour would be like, and now she was here. It didn’t matter she wasn’t the star of the show and no one would even know her name. All that mattered was Riley was there and living her dream. Making her way out into the seating area of the Symphony Hall, Riley found a seat in the middle and pulled out her phone and headphones. Her mom answered the FaceTime call on the second ring.
“There’s my baby girl!” Lauren beamed as she blew a kiss at the phone. “How was the first night? Are you excited? Where are you?”
“I’m at the venue.”
Riley switched to the front camera and showed her mom around the venue. It was the same arena where the Phoenix Suns played basketball, except now a stage sat on one side of the court while hundreds of chairs filled in the available space. Having chosen a seat a few rows back, the venue looked even bigger through the phone’s camera.
“Wow! That’s a lot of people.”
“Well, it will be.” She flipped the camera back around to herself. “We’re sold out every night.”
“I know. I saw it on your blog.”
Lauren was one of the most supportive moms Riley had ever encountered. She loved Riley for exactly who she was and never expected her to be someone she wasn’t. Her father, Tony, was the same way. In Riley’s opinion, she had the best parents.
“How was the bus situation last night?”
Riley huffed. “You mean before or after my pull-out bed broke so I had to sleep in Harlow’s bed?”
“Oh, no,” Lauren laughed, “that sounds like the plot in a romance novel.”
“Trust me, there’s no romance going on there. I’m pretty sure Harlow hates me.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. Why do you say that?”
