Kissing the Shy Guy - Stephanie Street Page 0,12

way she wanted it. Raising seven children made her a bit of a general. In fact, that’s what Dad called her when she started in on everyone—The General. Although she didn’t look like any of the generals depicted in the war movies Dad and I sometimes watched when we managed to wrangle the television from the girls. Those generals were all hard and crusty. Mom was softness and fluff. The only resemblance I could think of was maybe the eyes. Mom’s battles might not look like those fought on distant fields between men with guns, but there was still the occasional bloodshed.

I shuddered, remembering.

Finally, she started talking. “I got a call today from Jarom’s mom.”

Given this small clue, my mind raced. What could Mrs. Jones have to say that would put Mom in a mood about me? I was the good kid. I might dress like Danny from Grease, but that was only because my sisters looked like the pink ladies. Consciously or subconsciously, I did whatever I could to distance myself from the pastel horde I lived with.

I set down my juice box and prepared for battle. Whatever Mrs. Jones had told Mom, it wasn’t good. “Okay.”

Mom braced one hand on her hip. “When were you going to tell me about Carly Ryan?”

“Oh.” Crap. Carly Ryan was Asher’s mom and the hottest country singer in the nation. We hadn’t told anyone yet, but Breakout would tour with Carly for two months this summer. I shifted in my chair, briefly considering the many ways I might hurt Jarom without killing him since we couldn’t go on tour without him. He knew I hadn’t told my parents yet and that I wasn’t planning to until the very last minute. Like right before boarding the plane.

Mom took a threatening step closer. “Don’t you oh me, mister. You’re not going.”

Rising from the table, I straightened my shoulders. The first rule of engagement? Fight standing up. “I’ve already signed a contract.”

Mom’s eyes bulged. “You did what?”

“And signed with an agent. The band did.”

Her mouth dropped open. “When?”

“Two months ago. Asher worked it out for us.” Carly had recommended agents and lawyers. With the help of Asher’s dad, who’d reluctantly agreed to be our temporary manager, we’d interviewed them all via video conference. From there, it had been a matter of signing.

“And you didn’t think to tell us about it?” Mom’s face had gone from a shocked white to red with rage.

“I thought about it.” And immediately decided against it. I loved my parents, and I knew they loved me. But after everything with Diana, I didn’t want them involved in my business. Diana hardly wanted anything to do with any of us these days, and when she did come home or call, she never discussed her contracts or deals with our parents. When Jarom and Asher had talked with me and Bash about solidifying our future as a band, I’d called Diana. The first thing she’d said? Keep Mom and Dad out of it—separation of business and family.

I had powerful memories of Diana and our parents’ arguments when she was first offered a role in an Off-Off-Broadway play. Diana had been so excited. Mom and Dad? Not so much. They were proud of her, wanted her to succeed, but they worried about her being alone in the city.

I understood. And so had Diana. But she didn’t let fear get in the way of what she wanted. I wouldn’t either.

That didn’t mean I was planning to keep it from them forever—of course not. But I had no intention of telling them until the very last minute.

Damn Jarom!

“Adam. Michael. Smith,” she drew out each of my names with pure maternal wrath. “What about college? What about your plans?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “College, Mom? College was never my plan.”

Her brows came together. “But we talked about—”

“You talked,” I interrupted. “I’ve never talked about it. I have no intention of going to college.” I was surviving high school by the skin of my teeth. College sounded like my worst nightmare. If things didn’t work out with the band, I’d find a job and maybe go to trade school. I would not go to college. “I haven’t even applied anywhere,” I told her as though that sealed the deal, ended the discussion.

Mom pursed her lips. “The community college accepts everyone.”

I stared at her, wondering if there was anything I could say that would make her understand. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I never