I stop in front of Mom’s door, wondering what Dirk will do with her stuff. It occurs to me I might want some of it. “Give me a minute,” I say to my friends.
“We’ll take these to the car,” Brad says. “Take your time.”
I open the door and stare into her room. I haven’t been in here since she died, but Helen obviously has. It’s as clean as the day we moved in, with the exception of several boxes stacked against one wall. All her things have been packed.
“Didn’t take you long, did it?” I ask Dirk, who’s standing behind me.
“Her things are being donated to charity.”
I step inside her room and close the door in Dirk’s face to keep myself from throwing a punch. Leave it to him not to tell me.
I examine the boxes until I find the one I’m looking for. I drag it over next to the chair by the window and remove the tape. Inside are framed photos. There are far too many for me to take. There’s really only one I want anyway. I dig until I find it.
A knock startles me. Crew pokes his head inside. “We’re ready when you are.”
I raise my chin in acknowledgement. He shuts the door.
I trace the faces of the two people in the picture with me—Mom and Luke—and my throat thickens when it occurs to me that of the three of us, I’m the only one still alive.
Chapter Two
Ella
Jenn pulls me along as we trail behind Krista. “Come on,” she whines. “We’ll get nowhere near the stage if we don’t hurry.”
“I don’t know what the big deal is,” I say, shaking glitter off my clothes. Why I let them put it in my hair is beyond me. And they overdid it, by a lot, but there was no time to wash it out. I feel like Lady Gaga. “I’ve never even heard of them. Ruthless Alibi. What kind of name is that for a rock band?”
“It’s Reckless Alibi, and it’s a great name. I promise you’ll download all their music after tonight.”
I give her a sideways glance. I haven’t seen her this worked up since junior year when Zac Efron signed an autograph for her outside one of his movie premieres.
Several women push past us on the sidewalk leading to the club—grown women, who act like they are kids going to meet Mickey Mouse. Krista turns around and takes my other arm. Now they’re both pulling me. We get in line behind the crazy women.
“How is it that the two of you are going bat-shit crazy over this Ruthless Alibi band, and I don’t have a clue who they are?”
“Reckless!” they both shout.
“Whatever.”
Krista says, “You’ve had your head in the sand since you and Corey—”
I give her the evil eye.
“Sorry.” Her bottom lip juts out. “I forgot we weren’t mentioning the bastard’s name. What I meant to say was that since you broke up with Dickhead, you’ve been MIA. That all changes starting now. Two weeks is long enough to mope around.”
We inch closer to the door. I glance behind us; the line goes down the street and around the corner. “Exactly who are these guys?”
Jenn taps on her phone and shows me a picture. “They aren’t just guys. One of their singers is a girl. Their songs have been on the radio for months. I’m sure you’ve heard them. Here.” She puts her phone against my ear.
I nod, familiar with the song.
“Twenty bucks cover,” the man at the door says.
“Twenty dollars? Really?” I try to step out of line.
Krista takes my hand. “Oh, no. We’re doing this. It’s our treat.”
They each pay their way and split mine. “I’m buying the drinks then,” I shout over the crowd.
“Who cares about drinks?” Jenn says. “Let’s go find a good spot.”
I check the time on my phone. “But the sign says they don’t start for an hour.”
“Spot first, then drinks,” she says. “Trust me.”
I follow them as they weave through a hundred people. Jenn has no problem blazing a path through the throng. “Sorry,” I tell a few when we bump into them as we pass.
She drops my arm and runs ahead, laying claim to a high-top seconds before another woman gets there. The loser pouts, then runs for a table farther back.
Jenn gloats. “You gotta be faster than that. This is a great place, don’t you think? Close to the dance floor, and we’ll still see the band.”