Chapter 26

Axton

Me: Heading out in a few hours.

I sent that text two hours ago. While waiting for her to respond, I sat here wondering if I went about it all wrong. I mean, anyone would be cranky at three in the morning. I went home Tuesday morning expecting her to text, to ask me to come back and beg me to stay, but she didn’t. Wanting me to be there with her would be easier than leaving thinking she just doesn’t give a fuck.

Addi: Already? I didn’t realize you were leaving so soon.

She finally responds, leaving less than an hour before I have to go meet the tour bus.

Me: If you didn’t fucking rip my heart out and stomp all over it, I would’ve been able to tell you the details of my trip.

I erase that message. As much as I want to send it, her hating me isn’t something I can handle.

Me: Yeah.

I wait, hoping she asks me to come over even if I have no real time to spend with her—praying she lets me hold her in my arms just one more time before I leave for months. That’s not what I get.

Addi: Stay safe. You’re an amazing artist. Now the world gets to see that.

I squeeze my phone so hard at her dismissive text, it begins to crack.

“You got everything packed?” Carson asks as he walks into the living room.

“Yep.”

“You going to go say bye to Addi?”

“Nope.”

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t meddle. He knows what happened yesterday. I came home livid and ready to burn the world down. I was willing to just walk away, from the tour, from music altogether. If he hadn’t been here, still awake when I returned to talk me off the ledge, I would’ve given everything up for her.

He convinced me someone who really loved me wouldn’t expect that from me.

“She never said it,” I lament out loud.

“What’s that?” Carson asks, distracted by the movie guide on the TV.

“Addi,” I say. “She never said I love you.”

“You said it first?” he asks, amazement in his tone.

“I don’t know if ‘I fucking fell in love with you’ really counts as saying it.” I cringe, recalling my anger, at spitting those precious words out like that. “But I just realized she didn’t say them back.”

“That sucks, but it should make it easier. You’ll go on tour where there are groupies just for the sake of being groupies. You’ll have girls on your jock without them even knowing who you are.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Even the roadies get more ass than they can handle.”

“You’re a dick,” I mutter. “I just tell you I’m in love with a girl for the first time in my life and you spout some shit about fucking groupies. I don’t want anyone but her.”

He chuckles. “Your dick will make you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” I vow.

“Didn’t you tell me she pretty much told you to move on? That you asked her to wait for you and she told you no?”

I hate when he pays such close attention to what I say. It really ruins my delusions when I rework things in my head.

“She danced around the questions, saying ‘we’re friends.’”

That asshole Marcus comes to mind when I think about her being here with me gone.

“Well,” Carson begins, “I say follow your dreams, not your heart.”

I want to argue that the dreams I’ve had most of my life are beginning to shift because my heart is in a different place than it was all those years ago. Hell, I’m in a different place than I was six months ago. Addi has changed so much for me. She’s opened up my eyes.

Do I want to get on stage and sing for all I’m worth to make it in the music industry? Of course I do, but I also want Addi in the audience smiling up at me while I sing every heartfelt word to her. It doesn’t carry the same punch as it used to.

“You have that look on your face,” Carson says, interrupting my thoughts.

“Yeah? What look is that?”

“The same one you had when you came home yesterday. Only this time, there’s a sadness. That concerns me the most.”

“I’m just going to miss her,” I mumble.

“Miss her for a little bit, but when you’re thousands of miles away living the tour life, think back and remember she’s not here waiting for you. Understand she offered you friendship and it’s not code for ‘come back to me when you’re done and be with me forever.’ If you can do that, you’ll be perfectly fine.”

I hate what he’s saying, but I can’t ignore the truth in his words.

“This sucks.”

“It does,” he agrees. “Getting your heart broken is a pretty shitty experience.”

I huff. “Who broke your heart?”

“Grace Murphy,” he answers without missing a beat.

“Grace Murphy moved away in fifth grade, asshole.”

“And my heart has been broken ever since. She’s the reason I don’t date monogamously.”

“You’re fucking nuts,” I say on a chuckle as I stand from the couch. “Get the fuck up. I have a bus to catch.”

“You need to get your music to Brent Johnson’s band leader,” some redheaded dude says before starting to walk off.

“Who?”

He points, but doesn’t slow long enough in case I have more questions. “Some other no name fucker. At least he came prepared with musicians. You’ll be using his band.”

“Sweet.” Doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

I leave my duffle bag where it landed a few minutes ago when Carson dropped me off and head over to the guys who seem to be inventorying equipment.

“Looking for Brent Johnson’s band leader.”

Only one guy looks up from his work. “Greg,” the guy says, offering me his hand.

“Axton Lane,” I say, and there’s not an ounce of recognition in his eyes

After we shake, I open my messenger bag and pull my music from it. “That redheaded dude said you guys were going to help me out.”

“This is perfect, man. We really appreciate the extra cash.” He grins as he takes the folder from my hand.

“Extra cash?”

“Yeah, man. Think we work for free? You split what you make with us.”

I nod, my blood boiling. Carson failed to mention anything about that. He did tell me I wouldn’t make shit on this tour, so splitting that miniscule amount is going to suck.

I begin to walk away, but he whistles me back.

“You’re on with us, man.”

“Awesome. It’ll give us a chance to go over the songs.” I smile. Being able to prepare even a little before my first performance in two days calms my nerves some.

“Listen, we know how to read music, man, and we only practice with Brent. We’re his band, not yours.” My mouth tightens. “But we can work something out. It’ll be more money, though.”

Without another word, I turn around and grab my bag. The open gate Carson drove through to get me close to the buses snags my attention, and for a split second, I think community college until my university suspension is lifted doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. If I stay, at least I can work on convincing Addi being friends is the last thing she needs.

I reach into my pocket, pull my phone out, and open the screen. Carson won’t be happy about my call, but he also won’t leave me standing out here all night.

“Hey, boy,” a voice calls out from behind me. I turn to find the child it must have come from, only to find Greg standing in the door of the bus looking right at me. “You ain’t gonna get famous just standing there like that. Get your ass in here. We’re leaving.”

He’s right. I shove my phone back into my pocket and grab the strap of my duffle bag. He barely gives me enough room to get through the door. When I step past him, I see why. There are at least half a dozen guys filling the space, with bags, suitcases, and cases of beer piled all over.

I turn back to Greg. “Where am I headed?”

He walks past, kicking the legs of a guy who’s blocking his way, pulls back the curtain of a small top bunk, and points.

“Awesome,” I say with as little sarcasm as I can manage. “Where do I put my bags?”

He sighs, as if I’m a fucking bug buzzing around his head, then points to the end of the bed.

“Thanks, man.” He walks away just as the air brakes on the bus release an awful hiss and we begin moving forward.

Looking back into the tiny bunk, even without my bags taking up almost two feet at the end, I know I’d have to sleep with my legs bent.

“This is going to suck,” I mutter, but throw my bags in anyway.

“You bet it is,” some guy says from behind me. “Believe me, I’m not very happy about being forced to share my fucking band with you.”

He turns around, heads into the room at the back, and slams the door.