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I adjust my beanie, bringing it lower and wishing I had a ball cap on to hide my face now that she’s on the other side of the table.
Her hand reaches for my glass and pulls my beer to her, taking a sip. Her face scrunches, and she makes a gagging sound. “This is disgusting.”
“It’ll taste different when you turn twenty-one,” I tell her as I take the glass back and take a sip, not really caring that she took a drink. “How’d you find me?”
Justine laughs. “Elle has your location. She needed a volunteer to come over and see what’s what.”
“And you volunteered?”
She sighs. “Well, not exactly. Ajay has his kids here, so he didn’t want to come. Keane has Chandler. Dana’s getting her hair dyed. Elle thought if she sent Hendrix in, neither of you would come out.”
“Winner, winner by process of elimination.”
She shrugs. “I don’t mind.”
“Good to know.” I take a drink and watch the TV out of the corner of my eye. I was hoping to catch some news on Noah’s football team.
“Are you always this broody?”
“You sound like Ajay. I don’t brood,” I deadpan.
She arches a brow. “Quinn, you literally walked out of rehearsal today like a haunted poet who forgot how to sleep.”
I almost laugh. Almost.
“You’re not wrong.”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “So . . . Nola.”
I stiffen. The name lands like a shot I didn’t ask for.
“I don’t want to talk about her,” I say, my voice low.
Justine nods. “Fair. But for the record, I wasn’t bringing her up to talk about the elephant in the room. I was just . . .acknowledging that I’m not the only one who sees it. Just the one willing to say something.”
“Did my sister pay you to come over here?”
Justine smiles widely. “No, process of elimination, remember.”
“I’m fine. Everything is fine.” I scrub my hand over my face. “What happened earlier won’t happen again.”
She shrugs. “You wear your pain like a backstage pass. Doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.”
I stare down at my drink. “I’ve never heard that euphemism. I sort of like it.”
Another smile. I kind of like her smile.
“I really like singing with you,” she says, changing the subject.
“Once we release the song, it’s going to be a massive hit. Are you ready for it?”
“Elle says the same thing. I think the girls are jealous, though.”
I nod, understanding. “You haven’t known each other very long?”
Justine shakes her head. “Not at all. I joined their band, and now here we are, on this tour, and I’m singing with you. They’re still nice, but I’ve noticed some cold shoulder stuff.”
“It happens,” I tell her. “Especially when one has more talent than others.”