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Seven
Mornings are already tough with the sun. Mornings without the sun are so much worse.
We stood outside the bus, the next day, in the parking lot of my favorite park. The air was heavy with moisture, and the flowers housed dozens of droplets of dew. Fog, as if waking from a great slumber, lazily fit itself around every solid surface. I yawned through my second cup of coffee, trying to keep my eyes wide open to combat the lethargy refusing to leave my body. I looked around and saw that the band was no better. Jean Lee, the drummer, nodded off while standing and almost fell over. Kevin, the second guitarist, was actually asleep in the front seat of the bus. Philip, the lead guitarist, was the worst of them all. He grumbled for a full five minutes, to himself, with his eyes closed. I overheard something about, “fuckin’ mornings, who signed us up for this shit?”
The only three that seemed even remotely conscious were Yasmine, Danny, the bassist who also drove the bus, and Andrew. The latter sidled up to me with a knowing smile.
“You know, morning people tend to die sooner,” I grumbled.
He actually laughed, the jerk. “I live for today. You should, too, Ace. It’s a beautiful day to be alive.” He inhaled deeply. “Don’t you feel it?”
“I feel extreme remorse for waking up so early, that’s what I feel,” I grumbled. I shifted my camera gear. “When did you get to be a morning person, anyway? You used to hate them.”
Andrew shrugged. “I guess my perspective changed. I feel more productive at this time of day.”
“No one should feel anything this early.” I yawned for the fifth time in as many minutes. “Where’s the first gig, again?”
“Harbor Café, I believe.” I opened my eyes to see Andrew frowning at a piece of paper. His eyes widened and then flashed to mine. “It’s several states over.”
I stood up straight. “I think I heard you wrong. I could’ve sworn that you said that Harbor Café is several states over.”
Andrew smiled his awkward-kid smile.
My breath quickened as adrenaline shot through my body. “It’s several states over?”
“That’s what the paper says.”
I snatched the paper from his hand and scanned it quickly. I gasped. “All of these places are far from here. Not one of them is close to home.” I pushed the paper into Andrew’s chest. “I thought that we would be in New England the whole month!”
Andrew watched me closely. “Ace, are you okay?”
“No! No, I’m not okay. Michael’s gonna kill me.”
Yasmine walked over to us, in the midst of a yawn. “What’s with all the noise over here? Even the birds stopped chirping.”
“I thought that we were gonna be in New England this whole month.” I pushed my hair back with both hands as I paced in a tight circle. “Why didn’t I look at the itinerary?”
“Alicia, manita,” Yasmine said, watching me. “It’s my bad. We thought we would be local, but then we realized we can reach más personas, more people, if we expand past the northeast. But you’ll be back in time for your wedding, no prob. I promise.”
“I wish I had known this sooner,” I said. “Michael is gonna kill me for sure. And Mother. God, and Father. They’ll take turns killing me. Bring me back to life, then kill me just to teach me a lesson.”
“I understand that this is a change from the original plan,” Andrew cut in. “But what’s the big deal?”
“What’s the big deal? What’s the big deal?” I stopped briefly to glare at him. “You know my family. This is a big fucking deal. Also, this is not what I planned. This is not what I thought.”
Yasmine and Andrew exchanged looks. “Is she gonna be like this the whole time?” Yasmine asked Andrew.
“I hope not,” he replied.
“I can hear you two!” I exclaimed. My voice was as shrill as my nerves were frayed. As I paced, I could feel my breath getting quicker and quicker. Finally, Andrew stopped me with both hands on my shoulders.
“Alicia, listen to me,” he said. My eyes snapped to his. “Were you planning to go home, for any reason, at any point in this next month?”
“No, but—”
“And is Michael taking care of things back home?”
“Yes, but—”
