Serge

It’s the day of the state competition and we’re loading all the kids onto the bus — complete with actual driver this time — when my phone rings and I excuse myself to answer the unknown number.

“Hello?”

“I’m calling for Serge Davenport,” a pleasant female voice says.

“Speaking?” This is weird.

“Hold please.”

What the—

“Serge! Glad I could get a hold of you. Huey Gleason.”

I narrow my eyes, trying to remember where I know that name from. It sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.

“Who?”

“You don’t—? Ah, nevermind, you’ve been out of the biz for a while haven’t you.”

“What is this about?”

“Tori,” he says, and my heart stops. I look around the corner of the bus and spot her helping kids on. She’s here, so it’s not another call telling me she’s in jail.

“What about her?”

“You care about her, don’t you?”

“Who are you again?”

He sighs. “Kinda slow aren’t you, kid?”

My hands ball up into fists. “Look, explain who you are and why the hell you’re calling me in the next two minutes, or I’m hanging up.”

“I’m Tori’s old manager,” he says. “So, I’m gonna ask you again. You care about her, don’t you?”

“I don’t know why it’s any business of yours.”

“It’s my business because Tori is throwing her future away for you, and if you care about her the way I’m gonna assume you do, then you’re not going to let her do that, now are you?”

“What are you talking about?” My patience is wearing thin with this guy, but he’s piqued my curiosity. I don’t know what he’s talking about with Tori throwing away her future for me, but he sounds convinced enough of it that I’m willing to hear him out.

“Did Tori tell you the record label offered her a new contract?”

My fists tighten and I look around the corner of the bus again. “No.”

“Didn’t think so. And did she tell you she was going to head to New York to start recording this week?”

My stomach drops. I don’t say anything, but I know it’s true. I know what he’s saying is true.

“She didn’t tell you that either. Wanna know why? Because she couldn’t abandon your kiddies. They wanted her in New York today and now she’s gonna lose her shot.”

I still don’t say anything. There’s nothing to say. Tori’s different after rehab, maybe this is what she really wants, but I get a sick feeling in my stomach. Because Huey said that she was going to do it until she discovered the scheduling conflict. So she really is giving up her shot for me. For the kids. And I don’t think any of us would want her to do that.

When I look around the corner of the bus again, all the kids are on board and it’s just Tori standing outside, presumably looking for me.

“There you are,” she says, smiling when she sees me. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Can I talk to you for a second?” I ask, stepping back around the corner of the bus. It’s hotter back here, and the exhaust makes it hard to breathe, but there’s no way for the kids to spy on us because there’s no window in the bathroom.

“What’s up?” she asks, a frown scrunching her eyebrows together.

“I just got a call.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know… Is it?”

Her frown deepens. “Don’t talk to me in riddles, what’s going on?”

I sigh, scrubbing my hand through my hair. “It was your old manager—”

“Shit. Why the fuck did he call you?”

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“Is it true they wanted you to come out to New York to record and you didn’t do it because of the competition?”

She hesitates, like she’s trying to think of the right answer, but then she just scowls at me. “I thought you’d be happy about that. I’m not being selfish for once.”

She’s right of course. I don’t think the old Tori would’ve made the choice to give up her shot. But I’m not convinced it’s what she really wants. I think it might just be what she thinks she’s supposed to do.

“Are you sure about this?”

“What kind of question is that? I’m here, aren’t I?”

I frown, scratching at the stubble on my cheek. “Yeah, but… why? Because if it’s for me, don’t. I don’t want to hold you back, Tori.”

She rolls her eyes and huffs out a breath, taking a step closer to me. “God you’re stupid sometimes.”

“What?”

“You’re not holding me back. Kind of the opposite. You helped me find a new path… And I’m excited to take it with you. It’s not like I’m settling or something. Besides, you know how dangerous it would be for me to jump right in so soon after rehab.”

I almost don’t want to believe her, but I see the truth shimmering in her green eyes and I can’t doubt her.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, you dummy,” she says, grabbing my shirt and pulling me down to kiss her.

And I kiss her. I kiss her good, my hands going up under her ass, lifting her into me as my tongue delves into her mouth. I slip a finger under the hem of her cut-off shorts, sliding it under her panties and through her slippery lips all while I’m kissing her.

“Serge!” she gasps as my finger finds her entrance. “Someone’s going to see.”

I press her against the back of the bus, shielding her with my body. “Sounds like you better come fast then.” I don’t know what comes over me. Something about this change in Tori, about her willingly giving all that up for me, without ever even saying anything about it. She was going to quietly fall on that sword and I’d have never known about it.

I slip another finger into her clenching depths and she groans biting the back of her hand to stifle the sound.

“You can’t just—”

“I think I can,” I say, my thumb finding her clit with ease, working the rhythm I know is going to send her careening off the edge. I curl my fingers and she arches into my hand. “And I think you’re going to come for me. Right now,” I growl, snatching her hand away and swallowing her cries with a fierce kiss.

And then, like nothing happened at all, I pull my hand out of her shorts and grin, bringing my fingers up to my lips, licking them clean.

“What the hell was that?” she asks, flushed, panting, her knees bent, leaning on the bus for support.

I shrug. “Seemed like the right thing to do at the time. We should probably get going.”

She nods, still looking at me like she’s not sure who I am. Not sure, but definitely into it.

She’s still red the whole bus ride.

Luckily, the state competition is being held in LA, so we don’t have too far to go. Unluckily, it’s still LA and takes a couple hours.

“Do you think we’re gonna win?” Kamala asks, having claimed the seat next to me. I think Tori might actually have been relieved about that. Probably worried about what I’d do to her on the bus after what I did outside of it. But when I’m with the kids, I’m focused. She didn’t have anything to worry about.

“I think we’ve got a pretty good chance,” I say. “But there’s gonna be a lot of other teams there and they’re all the best in their region too, so it’s gonna be tough.”

She adopts a serious expression. “We’re gonna kick their butts.”

“You got that right,” I laughed.

“I thought it was just about having fun,” Tori teases from across the aisle.

“It is about having fun,” I say. “But even I can’t deny our awesome butt-kicking abilities.”

Kamala giggles and Tori smiles, rolling her eyes a little.

It’s not long before we’re at the concert hall and the kids are all practically bouncing out of their skin.

“All right everyone,” I say, announcing the bus as a whole once we’re parked, before I let anyone off. “Why are we here today?”

“To have fun!”

“To sing!”

“To KICK BUTT!”

“All of those things,” I laugh, “but most importantly to have fun. Win or lose, I’m so, so proud of you guys and you should be proud of yourselves too. Look how far you’ve come! It’s pretty much guaranteed that something’s going to go wrong. Maybe a lot of somethings. But don’t let yourself get stressed out, just remember why we’re here and have fun. Can I get a cheer?”

“WOO!” the kids yell back.

“I can’t hear you.”

“WOOOOOOO!” they chorus, the sound filling the bus this time.

“All right. Let’s go!”

I lead the way off the bus and Tori sidles up to me, bumping her shoulder into mine. “That was a good little speech you gave.”

“You think so?”

She grins, but something beyond her catches my eye. Something familiar. It’s hard to say what it is, but when you know someone really well, even the way they stand can help you identify them in a crowd. And she isn’t just standing. She’s pushing through people, looking over the crowd, extending her neck like Inspector Gadget.

“Serge?” Tori asks, frowning.

“Huh?”

“You didn’t hear any of that, did you?” she sighs.

“Sure I did.”

“What’d I say?”

I’m still looking through the crowd, craning my neck the same way she is, only I’m hoping she doesn’t see me. What the hell is she doing here?

Tori follows my line of sight, a hand on her hip. “What is it?”

She turns, spots me, smiles big and I groan. No point in avoiding it now.

“My mother,” I sigh.

“Your—”

I just shake my head and try to head her off. Maybe I can at least protect the kids from her even if I can’t save myself.

“Serge! I’ve been looking for you,” she says, beaming, giving me a big hug.

“What’re you doing here Mom?”

“I wanted to come support your little endeavor,” she says, waving her hand like she doesn’t really think it’s something worth bothering with, but she’s humoring me anyway. I sigh.

“How’d you even know about it?”

“You’re not a complete unknown, dear. As much as you want to pretend you never had any success, there are still those who follow your career quite closely.”

“I don’t have a career,” I insist. I’m not going to tell her about my plans for the center. The last thing I need is for her to start micromanaging the new project I’m so excited about.

“Well, it’s not much of one at the moment, but that’s only because you’ve neglected it for so long. If you just started doing some shows, had a social media presence, you’d be amazed. You know I tried to find you on Facebook and you don’t even have an official fan page. You’re doing yourself a disservice, honey!”

“Mom, I’ve gotta get the kids backstage and prepped. I don’t have time for this.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, hugging me again. “I’ll see you in there.”

“You can’t—” She’s already walking away before I can tell her that she won’t be allowed backstage. But knowing my mother, she’ll find a way. She always finds a way. If there’s any possible way in the entire known universe to make me more stressed, my mother knows how to find it.

“Are you okay?” Tori asks hesitantly from behind. I jump, on edge, then sigh, annoyed with myself.

“Yeah. Listen, can you get the kids in and registered and everything? I just… I need a minute.”

She chews on her bottom lip, but nods. “Yeah, of course.”

I head in the concert hall where it’s air-conditioned and just kind of pace around the lobby for a while, replaying the conversation with my mom in my head, replaying archived conversations, all the old criticisms and scrutiny bubbling up from the depths to pile on. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but once it starts it won’t stop and even the voices in the lobby are all starting to sound like her.

Why did she have to be here? Why did she have to charge into my life again on today of all days?

I find a quiet alcove near backstage, where her voice can’t taunt me, but her words won’t leave me alone. I’m not even thinking when I pull my phone out, or when I open my contacts, or when I dial the number I should have deleted fucking seven years ago. Every time I see it, I know I should delete just for a time like this, a time when I can’t stop myself, when the urge is too strong and my addiction overrides my willpower.

My hand’s shaking as I bring the phone up to my ear.

Just a little bit, I think. Wouldn’t be so bad. No one would ever have to know and it would help me cope with my mother so much better.

“Hello?” a voice answers, but I’m not even sure it’s the right voice. It’s been seven years and I’m not even sure I’d recognize my old dealer’s voice at this point.

“Hello?” he says again.

My hand’s sweaty and shaking and I’m having trouble holding on to it.

“Yo, I can hear you breathing. You there, man?”

I hang up and slump against the wall, a cold sweat on my whole body.

“Serge?” It’s Tori’s voice calling out for me, looking for me in the hallway, a fucking angel coming to save me from myself.

I groan and it’s loud enough that she comes to investigate.

“Jesus, what happened to you?” she says. I don’t know for sure, but if I had to guess, I’m probably pretty fucking pale, and I know I’m shaking and sweaty, I probably look like I’m coming out of withdrawal of coming down with the flu. But I don’t care what I look like because she’s there and I wrap her in my arms and crush her to me. I bury my face in her hair and hold her so tight I think I might crack her ribs, but I can’t hold her any looser. Not right now.

“What happened?” she asks, pulling away, her eyes searching mine, so worried.

I shake my head.

“Serge? What’s going on? You’re worrying me.”

I hand her my phone. “Delete the last person I called. Please.”

She frowns, but she does it, handing me the phone back.

“Now are you going to tell me what that’s about?”

“I just came way too fucking close to fucking everything up. I don’t know… My mom puts me so far on edge, but I can’t keep blaming her forever. I just… I almost… Fuck.”

I know I’m not making any sense, but I guess it’s enough for Tori because she looks horrified for a minute before she takes my hands.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just focus on the kids. Remember we’re here to have fun.”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand. I almost—”

“Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,” she says. “It sucks that it got that bad, but you didn’t do it. You stopped yourself. And now the number’s gone. You can’t sit here and dwell on it all day and take this day away from those kids. You’re better than me,” she adds with a cheeky grin.

I blow out a heavy breath, her words sinking in, the panic fading away. “Okay. You’re right.”

She nods and leans into me as she walks me toward the backstage area where the kids are presumably waiting. “And just leave your mother to me.”

I know that statement should worry me, but I can’t help just being happy that Tori’s in my corner.