Maybe this was a bad idea.

Something isn’t right. Jack’s singing my song, our song, and it sounds off. His voice is a little strained and it lacks the usual expression and passion he’s becoming known for, especially with this song. I know I’m not overreacting, because I’m close enough to the stage to note that the others in the band are tense as well.

When Jack announces the band needs a quick break, my worry is confirmed. What’s going on?

I work my way through the crowd and try to access the backstage hallway, but a couple of security guys block the way. Taking out my phone, I contemplate texting Jack, letting him know I’m here, but it seems like a lousy way to ruin the surprise. After all, if something is going on with the band, my presence isn’t going to fix it.

It’s agonizing being here alone, waiting, wondering. Jack’s been on tour for a month now, and we haven’t seen each other once during that time. School’s keeping me pretty busy, but we haven’t started racing yet, and I’ve been free on the weekends. As soon as practice was over this morning I jumped on a cheap flight to Austin.

Standing in the middle of a restless audience now, a wave of fear hits me. Despite Jack’s words saying otherwise, I can’t shake the sinking feeling that the other shoe is going to drop at any moment. He’ll see the real me, realize I’m not as special as he thought, and then what? Maybe it’s happening already. That’s probably why he was so tense singing the song about me.

Finally, the band returns to the stage, looking stiff and serious. And where’s Carson?

Jack approaches the mic, lifts his electric guitar from its stand and puts the strap over his shoulder before speaking. “Sorry Austin, we’re going to be down a piano player tonight. Carson’s caught a nasty bug and I don’t think any of us want to witness what it looks like up close on stage.”

The crowd grumbles and then laughs.

“Don’t worry, we’ll shake things up a bit for you, give you a show you won’t forget.”

With that, Jack hits a note on his electric guitar, loud and hard. Will and Townie are right there, and they dive into the next song with a determination I’ve never seen from them before. It’s something from their new album, upbeat and fast, and it has the crowd jumping. They look good, and possibly sound even better as a three-member band, and I have to wonder if Jack recognizes this. He looks lighter now, without Carson on stage. They all do.

When they head offstage for the night a couple hours later, I’m practically vibrating with the need to see Jack, be close, understand what’s going on. But I haven’t fully thought through how I’m going to get backstage. Addy would be the logical person to contact in this situation, but she’s a bitch to me, so I shoot a text to Townie, hoping he’ll check his phone. After ten minutes and no word, I move with the rest of the crowd toward the exit, glancing around and trying to see anyone from the crew who might recognize me as Jack’s girl and let me in. With no luck, I finally call Addy. Jack’s had me reach her for logistical stuff before, so I’ve got her number.

Cassie answers. “Hi Kick, it’s Cassie.”

“Oh, hi Cassie. Um, I was wondering if someone could let me in backstage. I’m here to surprise Jack. He doesn’t know I came.”

Silence. Finally, “Okay, I’ll come get you. But I’m warning you, it’s a really bad time. Go to the west door, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I don’t know Cassie very well. She’s always kind of aloof. I think she’s a stoner and just floats along with the band doing random tasks that no one else wants to do. Like, apparently, answering Addy’s phone and getting me into the backstage area.

Cassie looks nervous when she opens the door, which immediately sets me on edge. I’m already tense, wondering if Carson really does have a virus or if something else is going on.

“So, if I were you, I’d wait out here,” she says when we get to the end of the hallway and enter a room with couches and a kitchenette. It’s strangely empty.

“Where’s Jack?” I look around, seeing a few closed doors and hearing voices behind them.

She doesn’t answer. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I stand in the middle of the room, wondering what the hell is going on, when Townie and Will walk in a couple minutes later. Townie has a bruise on his cheek, and Will a cut on his forehead. Their wary smiles are not the greeting I was hoping for.

“Kick, hey, Cassie told us you were here.”

“What happened to you guys?”

Will glances at Townie, who answers, “We were dealing with Carson.”

Dealing with Carson? “So, he wasn’t sick then?”

“Not exactly,” Will answers.

“Where’s Jack?” I ask.

They look at each other again, then their eyes go to one of the closed doors. “He’s probably in there with Addy,” Will says softly.

I take a step back, my legs hitting a sofa and giving out beneath me so that I fall into it. Addy and Jack alone in a room with a closed door. Carson, her brother, fighting with Townie and Will. Tension in the band. Cassie saying it’s bad timing, looking nervous. Addy always being a bitch to me, her possessiveness over Jack. My song, our song, and the strain in Jack’s voice as he sang it tonight.

Townie follows, coming to sit beside me. He throws an arm around me, but I remain stiff as a board. “You probably already knew this was going on. It sucks it had to happen tonight, especially since you were here surprising him. Did you watch the show?”

Will opens the fridge and pulls out a beer. “I think we actually pulled it off pretty well without Carson. What did you think, Kick?”

Oh my God. Is this really happening? They thought I knew? I think I’m going to be sick. I glance around wildly, looking for a bathroom. “Bathroom?” I choke out.

Townie points to one of the closed doors and I bolt to it. Shutting the door behind me and locking it, I find that instead of throwing up, tears spring to my eyes, and sobs threaten to erupt from my chest. How are the guys out there acting like this is no big deal? Am I really this stupid?

I don’t know how long I’m in there before I hear voices outside, a knock on the door.

“Kick?” Jack’s voice comes through the door. He sounds confused, and worried. Fuck. I need to get the hell out of here.

I try desperately to get a handle on myself, sucking in deep breaths and dabbing water on my eyes and cheeks. It’s hopeless. I’m a hot mess and Jack will know immediately.

He tries the door, finding it locked. “Fireball, are you okay?” Now concern fills his voice.

Channeling as much indignation as possible, I unlock the door and swing it open, shooting the meanest glare I can muster at Jack.

His shocked expression is not what I’m expecting, and causes me to pause before I attempt to rush past him. Jack grabs me around the waist, stopping me. Will and Townie look on with wide eyes as Jack pulls me to his chest and walks us back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“What is going on, Fireball? Why are you crying? Why were you about to run away?” He sounds genuinely distressed, and now I’m just confused as hell. My lower lip starts to tremble and before I know it, the tears are streaming down my face again.

“You and Addy?” I finally manage to choke out.

He frowns, and keeps frowning for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Jack’s arms remain around me but I’m growing colder and stiffer as he continues to stare at me with this look of hard concentration. Is he trying to figure out how I figured it out? Isn’t it obvious? He’s probably regretting not telling the rest of the band to keep it a secret from me. Or maybe he doesn’t understand why I’m so upset. Did he think I would be okay with this? Oh God, it’s because of the way we met, how I only wanted one night.

Jack finally breaks the silence. “Me and Addy? What are you talking about?”

“You were alone in a room with her. The guys were in some kind of fight with Carson about it. Cassie and Townie and Will, all of them acting all weird like it was bad timing for me to surprise you. And then, our song, you… you had to force your way through it.”

As I stutter out what I know, how I figured it out, his expression softens and he places a finger on my lips. “No, no, no, Fireball. God, you really think that of me? I was firing Addy. We kicked Carson out of the band tonight.”

The vise gripping my chest releases and with the emotional whiplash, my head drops to Jack’s chest. Of course. This makes much more sense.

“Holy shit,” I breathe out in relief and apology. “I thought I was dying.”

Jack strokes my hair. “How could you even think that?”

I just sniffle into his chest. “I’m a mess. I don’t know. I was so confused. This night has been a mindfuck.”

“Look at me, Fireball,” Jack demands.

I raise my head, all kinds of embarrassed now. “I’m sorry, Jack. I don’t know why I jumped to that conclusion. It was just one weird thing after the next. I had no idea you guys were kicking Carson out. You didn’t tell me.”

“I should have mentioned what’s been going on with him. I guess I thought I had.” Jack remains contemplative, and with his admission, I realize that he doesn’t talk about band business with me at all.

“Why don’t you talk to me about it? Tell me what’s been going on? I want to be part of your life, not just an escape from it.” And I definitely want to be aware of what the hell is going on in his life in order to avoid the scenario that just went down. That’s for certain.

He nods, seeming to understand. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll fill you in. You hungry? I’m starved.”

We exit the bathroom, and Will and Townie apologize profusely for the misunderstanding, having figured out from my bathroom dash what conclusion I’d reached. We order pizza to the tour bus, not wanting to risk running into any of the ten thousand people in the audience tonight by going to a nearby restaurant.

The guys tell me about Carson’s drug use, the increasing frequency, the numerous times they’ve given him another chance over the past few months. They’d considered cutting Addy loose early on, for a number of reasons, though without saying it I get the message a big one was her possessiveness over Jack. And she’s annoying, Will and Townie said. But they never did because they didn’t want to upset Carson. They were a package deal.

The use of the term “package deal” reminds me of the conversation with Missy, but I’m not ready to think about it yet. I still haven’t told Shay. Jack and my parents asked me about it afterward, but I played it down.

All the hotels nearby are booked, so we’re going to be sharing the bus with the rest of the band tonight. Fortunately, Jack’s bed is in the back; the middle ones belonged to Carson, Addy, and Cassie, who took off tonight, and the ones in front are Townie’s and Will’s. We’ll have a little distance from the others, minimal privacy, but enough.

Jack and I stand to head to bed, when Townie suggests, “Let’s give Nolan a call. He can be a douche but he’s around, looking for work, and we need someone who can pick up quick.”

Will nods in agreement. “He’ll work for the rest of the tour. I talked to him the other day actually and he said he was looking for gigs.”

Jack’s hand tightens around mine, or maybe that’s my hand squeezing his. “Fine. Call him,” he says, resigned. He doesn’t sound happy about it, and I’m guessing that’s because he remembers Nolan hitting on me at StageFest.

I wish I could tell Jack they don’t need a piano player. I wish I could tell Jack that, for the second time tonight, I think I might throw up. But I can’t. It’s not my place to weigh in on my boyfriend’s decisions about his band, especially when no one’s asked for my opinion. Nolan’s a dick, but I had it coming. I just hope Jack never sees that piece of me. It will send him running.