More Than Maybe - Erin Hahn Page 0,77

days.”

“And we … er”—I glance at Phil—“have that thing at school the day after that,” I add, thinking of the showcase and steadfastly ignoring the hot feeling in my face at the mention of the wedding. Our date.

“And graduation in four weeks,” Vada offers with a knowing smile.

“Right,” I say. “No problem. None of this is life altering at all.”

“At all,” Vada repeats. I can’t believe it, but she looks completely jazzed by the challenge.

Or maybe I can believe it.

Or maybe I just believe in her.

26

VADA

I get right down to business planning the Save Liberty Live concert. I haven’t forgotten what’s at stake; Rolling Stone is staring me down from my in-box. They promised to snail-mail me the formal application and program details, but I’ve been (almost) too busy to care.

First up, an amazing band.

“We can do two weekends from Sunday,” (Not) Warren’s manager, Jenn, says in an almost apologetic tone. They are almost fully booked—a catch-22 of just how sought after they’d become since my review. Sunday isn’t ideal, but I’ll take what I can get.

“Great! Put us down. Thanks so much for doing this,” I say. “I wish I could promise more funds, but as it’s a fund-raiser—”

“No problem, sweetie. You bring the crowds, and we’ll bring the swag.”

“Excellent. Crowds I can promise. We’re already on it. Thank you!”

I hang up the phone and stand up, stretching. Making a check mark on my list, I look over the rest. I still need to talk to Ben about opening for (Not) Warren. For free. Luckily, Ben is working tonight. I can catch him on the floor and convince him to play the show and then convince everyone else they want to order tacos from Enrique’s next door.

I swing open the door right as Luke is raising his hand to knock. “Hey!” I say.

“Hey back,” he says tightly.

“What’s wrong?”

Luke tilts his head. “Marcus is here.”

I start to walk, and Luke puts a hand on my shoulder. “Not for you. He doesn’t even know you’re here, Vada.”

It’s stupid how that stings to hear. “How long?”

“Thirty minutes, give or take, but he’s being pretty belligerent. Phil had to call the police.”

I deflate, and Luke tugs me back into the office. I’ve known this was coming. Phil’s let Marcus get away with far too much already.

And yet.

“He really tried, Vada. I’m sorry. But Phil asked me to come warn you so you didn’t have to see.”

“Of course.”

“I mean, it’s a place of business and—”

I hold up a hand. “You don’t have to justify it. I told Phil to do it years ago, and I know he and my mom have discussed this.” I sigh, thinking. “I have to go out there.”

“Vada, come on. You don’t need to see that.”

“But I do. Don’t you see? I need to see this, and he needs to see me see this.”

Luke’s tone is soft. “He’s pretty drunk. I don’t even know if he’ll remember, Vada.”

“Well, I’m not,” I say blithely, heading past him for the door. I open it and turn, holding a hand out. “You coming?” What I really mean is, Please come. I don’t want to do this alone.

I know I need to face this—it has been coming for a long, long time—but I still don’t want to see it. Not really.

Luke’s face is unreadable as he joins me, but he takes my clammy hand in his warm one. We walk down the back hall together.

The scene is worse than I’d imagined, and I’ve imagined it plenty. Glass is shattered everywhere, and the place reeks with the heady fumes of alcohol. Marcus is holding a bleeding hand to his chest, surrounded by uniformed officers. The back wall is lined with patrons and curious onlookers. Phil is talking to another police officer, who’s taking notes. He looks terrible. Resigned and tired. I stare between the two men, and for a half second, I’m torn.

On one side, there’s my dad. A fucking asshole, but he’s my dad. In my head, he’s “Dad.” He might’ve ruined the title, but it’s his. I can’t change that.

On the other, my Phil. The man who gave me a job and encourages my dreams. The man who loves my mom and has somehow made us both feel like we deserve better. The man who won’t ever leave me.

Luke squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back, pressing my palm to his. When the police officers move away, I let go of his hand, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’m okay,” I mouth.

I approach