Page 22

Keane takes his headphones off and adds to the harmony with the keyboard app he has on his computer. Technology is a wonderful thing to have on a tour bus and in general. It’s not like he can set up an actual keyboard. One quick brake check and the thing would go flying.
Dana puts her phone down and leans forward. “What are you thinking? Ballad?”
I nod and write the progression of notes down. “It’s where my head is right now,” I say, without realizing my statement could open an assortment of questions.
“I’m going to record if that’s okay,” Justine says. She doesn’t wait for an answer and sets her phone on the footrest in front of her, pushing it toward the middle of the room. Ajay moves closer to me, putting the members of Sinful Distraction in a semi-circle. Missing Hendrix right now sucks, but he’s so damn good on the strings, he’ll pick this up right away.
After a three, maybe four-hour jam session, we’re pulling into the venue. I’m tired as shit and should’ve taken a nap. Such is the life of a musician, I suppose.
Tonight,I sit through Talking Til Dawn and Plum’s set. Elle decided that for our first show, Justine will join Sinful Distraction on stage, and then tomorrow night, I’ll join her. Elle wants to keep the fans on their toes. Secretly, I know it’s her way of sticking it to them for not being in their seats during both performances.
It's annoying, people who don’t show up for the opening act. I know what it feels like to look out at the crowd and see so many empty seats. It’s bullshit.
You pay for three concerts; be there for three concerts. I get that sometimes you’re running late, but when it’s a majority of the venue, it’s fucked. It makes me want to put Sinful Distraction out first, just to prove the point.
Elle would never.
Speaking of which, my sister stands next to me, shocking the crap out of me.
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought you could need a little extra . . .” she shrugs, leaving her words to interpretation. I know exactly what she means—support—we’re always had each other’s backs, no matter what.
I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me, kissing the top of her head. It’s my way of saying thank you, especially when my voice fails. “How are you feeling?”
She rests her hand on her stomach. “I’m waiting for the kicking to start.”
“Why? That seems like it would hurt.”
Elle looks at me with a glint of happiness in her eyes. I can’t recall a time when I’ve ever seen her glowing like this. She shakes her head slightly. “I can’t wait for it to happen. I know it’s going to be the best feeling ever.”
“Are you going to tell me what you’re having?”
Peyton and Noah had a wet T-shirt contest to reveal the gender of their babies: two boys and one girl, who I already know is going to be the most spoiled baby in the world.
Unless Elle has a girl.
Good thing I have two arms.
My sister smiles, winks, and then shakes her head. “Ben and I want to surprise everyone.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “How am I supposed to buy the baby a present if I don’t know what you’re having?”
She lifts one shoulder. “You being there will be enough, Quinny.”
“Thank you for being here.”
Elle squeezes me tightly. “The only way I’m not here is when the doctor says no more traveling. I’ll be on the bus tonight.”
This surprises me, but I don’t say anything. She’s traveled on the bus before, but not while pregnant. I hope she’s not uncomfortable.
“Dinner first, though?”
She nods and then steps away when someone says something in her headset. It must be close to showtime.
I take a deep breath and brace myself as the lights dim and the crowd erupts.
Suddenly, anxiety overtakes my body. This is supposed to be the moment I live for, and yet, I want to bail.