“I’m pretty sure that box is half clothes and half random crap that used to be on my bookshelf back…” She almost said “home.” But Kansas wasn’t her home anymore, as she had told Justin all those nights ago, whispering secrets on the bed in the dark on the best horrible day of her life. They still talked every night, but via text so that Justin didn’t disturb his sleeping bandmates. In comparison, every conversation fell short of the magic on that first night, but every time he reached out to her it made her feel…needed. Special. Being there for someone else helped her take her mind off other things. Like the fact that she still couldn’t walk.

“Here, I’ll take it.” Tetra used her good leg to scoot herself across the floor in the desk chair. The crutches got so painful after a while; the desk chair was her preferred mode of transportation inside the house.

“So help me, I am going to strap you to that bed if you don’t get back in it willingly.” Lupe brushed a stray hair out of her face and tucked it back beneath her kerchief. She’d almost become a permanent fixture in the Scott household since Tetra’s injury, for which both Tetra and her father were both immensely grateful.

Eventually Lupe wore Tetra down about letting her unpack the room, but Tetra was finding it impossible. “Look, I’m wearing the brace so I don’t bang it into anything, and I promise I’ll be careful. Besides, the doctor said I was supposed to put weight on it as soon as I was able.”

Lupe put her hands on her hips. “Can you put any weight on it now?”

Tetra hesitated before finally admitting, “No.”

“Then get your tush back in bed, take off that stupid cast, and let me work.”

Tetra stuck out her tongue.

“Don’t make me come in there,” Dad called from somewhere outside the room.

“You’re more scared of Lupe than I am,” Tetra called back.

“Got that right.” Dad appeared in the doorway with two fresh glasses of water and a bag of ice. Tetra didn’t feel up to arguing with both of them, so she caved and rolled herself back toward the bed. After she removed the thick black walking boot, Dad helped her prop her foot back up on the pillows, placed the ice pack on her ankle, and dispensed her evening meds.

Once Tetra was all settled, Lupe pointed at her. “Stay.”

Dad laughed. “Have I mentioned how glad I am you’re here, Lupe? She never listens to me.”

“I beg to differ, Mr. Scott.” Lupe finished extracting a knick knack from another black tank top and set it on the desk. “If Tetra hadn’t obeyed your instructions to go find adventure, she never would have met me.”

“And now we can’t imagine life without you,” said Tetra.

Dad raised his hands in surrender. “Fair enough. What do you ladies want tonight? Mexican?”

“Hmm,” said Lupe. “I had SOB twice already this week, but I could do it a third time if your heart’s set on it.”

“I’m sorry, you did what?” asked Dad.

Lupe laughed. “South of the Border. SOB. I keep forgetting you two haven’t been locals for very long.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Dad said. “Pizza then?”

“Works for me,” said Lupe. “Anything but Mexican pizza.”

“Ditto,” said Tetra.

“Got it. Placing the order now. As you were.” At that last comment he spun in the doorway and tuned back to Tetra’s room. “As you were,” he pointed to Lupe. “You”—he pointed to Tetra—“stay.”

This time, Tetra stuck her tongue out at her father.

Lupe held up another dusty black item of clothing—a skirt this time—and shook it out before tossing it into the hamper. “Girl, do we need to have an intervention? Are you familiar with this thing called a rainbow, or do they not teach that back in Kansas.”

“I’m familiar with the legend,” said Tetra. “We even sing a song about it. Tornadoes, Wicked Witch, the whole nine yards.”

Lupe raised that infamous eyebrow. “So what gives?”

Ice water was beginning to trickle down Tetra’s leg—she adjusted the dish towel and shifted the bag of ice to a different part of her ankle. “Remember what I told you about the badness that happened at my school?”

“Yeah,” said Lupe. “It’s still a little surreal that it actually happened to someone I know.”

“Well, the girl that was in the thick of it all—one who survived—was a Goth girl. When she finally came back to school, a bunch of us started dressing all in black. Mostly in solidarity, but partly because we were all still in mourning. It may as well have become one of our school colors. It was like armor and a security blanket and a good luck charm all at once. Black meant safety. Which all sounds sort of ridiculous and stupid now that I’m saying it out loud.”

“Seriously?” Lupe dusted off another knick knack. “I’m half Cuban and half Mexican. You don’t need to explain talismans and charms and the power of the universe to me. My mother still lights candles for you and your friends, and she probably will every night until you’re out of that cast.”

Tetra opened her mouth and closed it again. It was almost shocking how wonderful it felt not to have to explain herself and her situation beyond the facts of the matter. “Thank your mother for me.”

“I will,” said Lupe. “Now, if and when you do decide to tiptoe over to the light side, may I suggest a few accessories? Like that flower you wore in your hair the night of the wedding. I have tons of those. I’d be happy to bring a bunch over if you’re willing to experiment.”

“That would be nice.” Especially since that flower had such an incredible memory attached to it. And suddenly she found herself thinking about Justin again. As much as she wished they could talk in person, she was glad he was on tour and couldn’t see her like this, tired all the time, on crazy amounts of prescription medication (who knows what sort of horrible trigger that would be for him), and scooting herself around with that godawful walking cast.

The incredible monstrosity had a plastic sole, layers of padding, and rows of velcro strips. It was a cross between a really cool platform boot and a medieval torture device. There was no way to decorate the beast. Even if the band had wanted to sign it, there was no place it would stick. And unless she found a similar platformed shoe for the other foot, when she finally did manage to walk again she’d be limping like a champion.

But at least she could take it off to shower. That one bonus made every second she had to deal with the boot completely worth it.

“Thinking about Justin?” Lupe cooed.

“And a shower,” Tetra answered honestly. “But yes, mostly Justin. Does that make me pathetic?”

“With those eyes? I’d call you pathetic if you weren’t pining after him.” Lupe plopped down on the bed beside her. “So things are still going well?”

“I guess. I mean, I don’t know. He’s stuck in a van on the road. I’m stuck on this bed. Mostly we send silly selfies to each other. He’s a good friend.” It was only a half-lie…in the wee hours of the morning they talked about everything: past histories, family stories, favorite songs and half-written lyrics until one or both of them fell asleep. As much as Tetra wished there could be more between them, she didn’t want to delude herself like some lovestruck groupie.

Which is technically exactly what she was.

“Oh, take one of us and send it back to him,” Lupe suggested. They made a silly pose—Tetra took the photo, ran it through a couple of crazy filters, and sent it off.

“He might not get it until after their show tonight,” she told Lupe, “but I’m sure he’ll love it. He says I’m very lucky to have you.”

“He’s very lucky to have you,” said Lupe. “I imagine constantly being on the road like that can take a toll on a person. Is the concert tonight streaming?”

“I think so. What time is it?”

“Almost seven.”

“I think it starts at eight. Will you hand me my laptop? I’ll poke around and see what I can find out.”

Lupe rolled off the bed and retrieved Tetra’s laptop before resuming her unpacking. She’d already gotten through most of the boxes, one at a time, cleaning, sorting, and organizing with a slow patience that Tetra wouldn’t have had under any other circumstance. This room wasn’t much bigger than her bedroom in Kansas, but as the boxes began to disappear, it seemed huge. The high ceilings added to the effect, as did the enormous window. The window seat beneath it was covered by such a random assortment of…well, crap…that it made Tetra want to hug it all and then throw it all in the garbage and start fresh. Perhaps Dad wouldn’t mind storing some of it until she decided.

“Did you hear what happened at the Jacksonville show?” Tetra asked as she logged on to the 10mm Conspiracy website and scrolled through tour dates.

“Was that the one where they had the flat tire and were stuck on the road and almost missed the show?”

“That was Pensacola,” Tetra clarified. “Jacksonville was even crazier. Right at the end of the show there was a short in the electrical system and all the amps went dead. There was no sound whatsoever, and the crowd had no idea what was going on.”

“So what did they do?”

“Somehow, Justin got his hands on a megaphone. He belted out an alternative version of Stranger Times, while Liam backed him up on drums. It was odd, but the crowd seemed to love it. A bunch of people in the audience got it on film, so if you want we can watch it after…oh, here it is. Yes, eight o’clock. Churchill’s Pub, Little Haiti. That’s Miami, right?”

“Right,” said Lupe. She tossed another black something into the hamper and turned back to Tetra. “They seem to be having quite a run of bad luck, don’t they?”

“Yeah, some fans are joking that the tour is cursed or something, but I don’t believe that.”

“Says the girl who wears black as a security blanket.” Lupe caught the pillow Tetra threw at her and playfully tossed it back. “That said, I don’t believe it either. If you ask me, I think Xander is behind all of it.”

“What?” Tetra flatly refused to believe such a thing, no matter how credible it might seem. “Why would Xander sabotage his own shows?”

“He’s not just sabotaging the whole show, is he? He only seems to be sabotaging Justin.”

“Nah,” said Tetra. “Justin’s just really good at stepping in to save the day.”

“I commend your loyalty,” said Lupe. “And I know you believe Xander’s a good guy, deep down. But I’ve known guys like him. Even had the misfortune of dating a few. They believe that their friendship and respect have to be earned, and they force someone to jump through rings of fire to get it. In the end, it’s never worth the price that’s paid.”

Tetra didn’t want to argue the point with Lupe, so she kept her mouth shut. Knowing what she did about how Justin betrayed Xander so terribly, she couldn’t completely fault Xander for wanting Justin to do penance. But could he have really been the mastermind behind every mishap on the tour so far?

Tetra looked down at her phone. She had Kara’s number, as well as Justin’s. Kara would tell her the truth. Tetra just wasn’t sure she wanted to know it. Xander had befriended her and rescued her and looked out for her. She didn’t want to tarnish his image in her eyes just yet.

Dad delivered pizza just as the show started—there were a few hiccups in the livestream, but whoever was managing the feed worked out all the kinks by the end of the opening act’s set.

Lupe turned out all the lights in Tetra’s room except one twinkling strand of green and purple spiders—the only thing Tetra had kept from last Halloween. They fluffed all the pillows on the bed and settled in behind Tetra’s laptop.

“Just think of all the miles we didn’t have to drive and tickets we didn’t have to pay for and sweaty lines we didn’t have to stand in to see this concert,” said Lupe. “I love living in the future.”

“Me too,” Tetra agreed.

Lupe managed to stay seated for half the opening song before she sprang up and began to dance around the room. Tetra was incredibly jealous, not only of Lupe’s obvious skill at dancing, but because her friend had the ability to stand up at all. Tetra didn’t let that stop her, though; she boogied in bed right along with Lupe.

“When I can walk again, you are definitely teaching me some moves,” said Tetra.

“Deal,” said Lupe, as she kicked up a heel and threw her head back before spinning around again.

They danced until they were exhausted. Lupe refreshed their drinks and they collapsed back onto the bed to watch the rest of the set. Just as he had at the wedding, Xander stepped up to the microphone and announced that Justin would be playing a special song for the audience, all by himself.

“Mmm-hmm.” Lupe’s eyebrow was raised again.

A spotlight found Justin on the dark stage, but instead of his bass guitar he now sat behind what looked like the electric stand-up bass used by one of the members of the opening band. Tetra grabbed the comforter in her fists anxiously. Did he even know how to play that?

Justin put the bow to the strings and drew out one long, haunting note. The audience settled down to a polite quiet. After a few more chords, Justin began.

“She’s just a shadow in the park.

She’s secrets whispered in the dark.

She’s with you wherever you roam.

And she reminds you there’s a home…”

“Madre de Dios.” Lupe turned to Tetra. “Is that about you?”

Before Tetra could answer the sound on the live feed went completely dead.

“Sorry,” a voice broke in after a few seconds. “We seem to be having some technical difficulties.” There was a murmur, and then the voice came back. “It seems the problem is on stage. They’re trying to fix it—”

But suddenly, Justin’s voice was back. He had grabbed one of the other microphones and, leaving the bass behind, sang the rest of the song a cappella.

Every word was about Tetra.

He sang about the stories they’d shared on the bed that night, and over texts every night since. He sang about hope despite all the terrible things that had happened to him, how even the tiniest light shone like a lighthouse beacon in the darkest night. He sang about how all of these things called him back to her. Called him home.

He sang every verse of those lyrics loud and clear, in a voice that never wavered. He ignored the audience, instead staring straight into the livestream camera. Because he knew she’d be watching.

When the song was over and the last note had died away, the crowd went bananas.

“Holy…” Lupe said in awe. “Yeah. I’d say he’s a little more than just a good friend.”