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“Mr. and Mrs. Andrews trying to apologize, apparently,” Val mutters.
“They’re apologizing?” I ask.
“Sort of?” He shrugs. “They said they messed up and want to meet in Pittsburgh.”
I stare at him, equal parts shocked and concerned. His expression is unreadable, except for the slight clench of his jaw. There’s definitely more to this, but it’s going to be impossible to get it out of him. He never complains about himself. Half the time I’m not sure he even realizes he’s been wronged. It’s like he expects people to treat him like garbage, something I fully understood after seeing how he’s treated by the people who were supposed to teach him his worth.
My last memory of his parents was about a year ago when I accompanied Val, Nash, and Paige to a meeting where he handed over thirty thousand dollars they claim he owed them for a semester of college. Really it was extortion and an attempt to be shitty human beings. They nailed it.
Now, they want to hang out?
I take his hand and lace our fingers. He glances over with a weak smile as I squeeze.
“What did you say?” Paige asks, handing his phone back.
He shoves it in his pocket. “Nothing yet. Which is probably why they contacted you.”
“I don’t blame you,” Paige says. “You have every right to ignore them. If you do decide to hear them out, though, I’m going with you, okay? You’re not facing them alone. Promise me you won’t confront them without me.”
Val lowers his eyes, and Paige narrows hers.
“Promise me, little bro.”
A slight smile flickers over his lips. “Sure. Yeah.”
“That’s not a promise.”
“I promise.”
“I’m going too,” I say, tugging his hand.
He tosses me a smirk. “Not a chance.”
I glare back. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
“You’ll be performing for eighteen thousand people that day.”
Oh. Yeah. That’s a good reason.
“Fine,” I mumble. “But Paige is right. You can’t face them alone, so take her with you or don’t go.”
“I already promised I would,” he says in exasperation. “And I haven’t even decided if I’m going. You all can stop babysitting me now.”
He pulls his hand away and crosses to the minibar to survey the contents. I’ve never seen him drink, so I’m pretty sure this is just a distraction. For him or us?
I exchange a look with Paige and Nash, not sure what to do. Paige shakes her head in a sign to let it drop, and I pull in a deep breath. It’s so hard to see him hurting. I feel so helpless. All I want to do is storm a castle somewhere, not sit around watching him pretend he’s fine. I don’t even care which castle, although it would be awesome if his parents were in it. Is this how Val feels watching my drama with Jarvis from the sidelines?
“You mind if I use your shower?” he asks, adjusting the bag.
Guess I was right about the booze distraction… and his extra belongings.
“Of course,” I say.
He returns a weak smile and takes off toward the bedroom.
“What do we do?” I ask once we’re alone.
“There’s not much we can do until he decides what he’s doing,” Paige says.
