Four years later
I paced the threadbare carpet in my cramped studio and held the phone away from my ear. “I don’t think I heard you correctly,” Billy said, voice rising. “You, my only child, the fruit of my loins”—I winced. Ew. Gross. I would not puke—“are not coming on the final leg of your father’s farewell tour?” At the ripe old age of thirty-nine, Billy had decided to retire from touring.
My speed increased. Maybe if I got going fast enough I would wear a hole through the carpet and then the floorboards. Falling through the floor would hurt. A lot. But it would also get me out of the most uncomfortable conversation of my life. And I’d probably be so spectacularly injured there wouldn’t be a possibility of going on Billy’s farewell tour. Double bonus. “Billy,” I started.
“It’s Dad. I’m your dad.” Yikes. He was really riled up.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Breathe. Stay calm. “I want to come. I do. But I have—”
“You have nothing. Daisy said you were done with finals.”
Damn Daisy, traitor. “I am done with finals. But I have my job, too.”
“You don’t need your job. You don’t need any job. The trust I set up for you covers any expense you would ever have for twenty lifetimes.”
My hand tightened on the phone. This was another argument. Since I’d started college, I’d decided to do it on my own, meaning without any assistance from my father—a decision I’d made before I knew exactly how difficult it would be. Which was why I was living in a shoebox-sized apartment that had rats in the walls and asbestos in the ceiling.
My father didn’t know about my poor living conditions. If he knew, you bet your ass he’d be on the first plane to Ransom University, hauling me kicking and screaming out of there. No, he thought I was living in the dorms. In an all-girls dorm. He also thought I got financial aid. But I didn’t qualify. By the time I found all this out, I’d already made a big stink about me living and making it by myself. Billy wasn’t the only stubborn jackass in the family. Meet yours truly, stubborn jackass number two. Like father, like daughter.
“Are you still pissed at me for sending you away?” Billy asked.
Ugh, he had to bring that up. “No, of course not.” That was the truth. Kind of. At first, I’d been furious with him. I’d refused to accept any of his phone calls for a month. But then I’d started to really love living with Officer Daniels’ family. That was why I’d decided to stay my senior year. Billy thought I’d refused to return as some sort of petulant fit. In reality, I’d developed a close relationship with their son, Gabe, and another girl, my now-bestie, Lily. No, I wasn’t mad at Billy for sending me away. It had grounded me. Shown me what real life could be like. But I was still hurt by it. At the first sign of trouble, Billy hadn’t hesitated to wash his hands of me.
Also, Billy didn’t know I’d deferred my freshman year to jaunt to Europe after graduation. Only Lily and Gabe knew what had really happened, what I’d really done, whom I’d really been with. That was the real reason for my reluctance to go back on tour with Wanks and Janks. I wished I could tell Billy. I wasn’t avoiding him. I was avoiding the other band he was touring with: Wild Minds.
After a few years, Wild Minds was back in the good graces of Wanks and Janks. Hell, they were almost bigger than Wanks and Janks. And now Wild Minds and Wanks and Janks were co-headlining a sold-out, cross-country tour together.
The kiss I’d shared with Warren at seventeen had been written off as a youthful indiscretion. And that was how I tried to remember it. Not as a crazy, all-encompassing love affair four years ago that led me through Europe. I’d had the time of my life, until I hadn’t. Until everything had crashed and burned, ending in bitter flames. No, I couldn’t do it. I never wanted to see Warren again.
“Are you listening to me?”
Shit. Billy had been talking the whole time. “I don’t know. Gabe is visiting…”
“Careful, little bird,” Billy said. “Or I’m going to think you prefer that peckerwood’s family to your own.”
Billy was a master of guilt. He could lay it on as thick as paste. How quickly I suffocated underneath it. “I need two weeks.”
“Two weeks!”
“Yeah, Billy—”
“Dad.”
“Pop,” I said, compromising. “I told Daisy I was done with most of my finals. I still have a paper to turn in. And I’m going to spend some time with Gabe. He’s making a special trip to New York just to see me. I’m not going to blow him off. Plus I have to get coverage for work.”
“You’re still mad at me,” Billy said, his tone absolute.
“I’m not,” I insisted, voice raised. I rubbed at my chest. I really wasn’t pissed at him. I understood. But sometimes it still hurt. I didn’t want it to. It felt as if he’d abandoned me. He’d sent me away and I was better for it, but I couldn’t bring myself to be thankful.
“Two weeks, little bird?”
“Two weeks,” I stated firmly.
Finally, we agreed. Billy wanted to book my ticket, but I insisted on doing it on my own. Knowing Billy, he’d buy out the entire first-class section and have a limo and security waiting at the airport. Somehow, I’d managed to keep a low profile all these years, and come hell or high water I was going to retain my privacy. Hardly anyone recognized me. The world knew Billy Wanks had an illegitimate daughter, but they had few pictures to prove it. The only public photographs that existed of Billy and me were from years ago. It was how I’d managed to tour with Wild Minds undetected.
I’d blended.
To the press, I’d been just another groupie.
Billy could never know. A knot formed in my stomach thinking about the ramifications if he found out. Then I felt sicker thinking about seeing Warren again. To say we’d ended on poor terms was like saying a hurricane was a small breeze. I pushed my worry to the side. I was a master at compartmentalizing my emotions. I would enjoy my time with Gabe. Then in fourteen days, I’d be backstage again, singing along to Wanks and Janks.
“Just like old times,” Billy said before hanging up.
“Just like old times,” I repeated back.
I was glad Billy hadn’t noticed how unenthusiastic I sounded.