need any help?”
I open my eyes, and an older, well-dressed Black man is standing in front of me. “I’m fine, thank you.” I push my sunglasses farther up my nose and take a step back.
“I didn’t mean to bother you,” he says. “You just seemed a little upset. And maybe lost?”
I am both of those things. “I’m neither of those things.”
“If you need a ride, I’d be glad to take you where you need to go,” he says, smiling. It doesn’t look creepy. Instead, it’s oddly reassuring, like a smile from your grandfather. “My boss got here late, so he’ll be in there for a while.”
“I’m really okay, but thank you.”
In a final moment of clarity, I realize the best option would be to go to Milo’s show and get his house keys.
I cancel my ride and order a new one to drop me off at The Goose’s Egg. What a terrible name for an establishment, by the way.
The man nods as he backs away. “Have a good night. Stay safe.”
“Thanks,” I say, watching as he walks toward his car.
That was weirdly kind of him. Or maybe it was a normal gesture and I’m just too jaded and unused to random acts of kindness.
My car arrives in two minutes, and then I’m on my way to Williamsburg to get keys to Gigi’s house. And to see Milo and his band. This is not how I expected my night to go.
Chapter Ten
The line to get into The Goose’s Egg is really long. This is the first surprise. Either it’s a really popular bar, or everyone is here for the show. I can’t figure out which one it is. And I keep getting weird stares because I’m dressed in my gown instead of a T-shirt and jeans like everybody else. I look as if I got lost on my way to Cinderella’s ball. At least I can hide behind my sunglasses.
I wait impatiently as the line inches forward, and when I reach the door, I get carded. This is the second surprise. It’s not like Simone and I were big partyers or anything, but when we did go out, all I had to do was name-drop my parents and we were let inside. I don’t think I’ve ever been carded before.
“ID, please,” a burly security guard says. He’s young, no older than twenty at most. He has curly black hair, and he’s wearing a tight black T-shirt that hugs his muscles.
I look around. “Um, how old do you have to be to get in?”
“Twenty-one.”
I frown. “But the boys in the band aren’t even twenty-one.”
He rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Look, either show your ID or get out of line.”
“Wait! I know Milo. See, look.” I pull out my phone and show him Milo’s text messages. “You’re Adrian, right? He told me to ask for you.”
“Uh-huh,” he says. He looks me up and down. “Have we met?”
“No.” I clutch Gigi’s envelope to my chest. “But can you let me in, please? I’m not even going to stay the whole time. I just need to get Milo’s keys.”
“Sorry, no can do. If I let you in without an ID, I’ll have to do the same for everyone else.” He shrugs and motions for me to move aside when people start complaining.
I want to point out that Doves Have Pride is composed of four nineteen-year-olds, which most likely means the majority of the people waiting in line have fake IDs. But I don’t say that, because I want to be on Adrian’s good side.
“Wait, you have to believe me,” I say, grabbing on to his arm. He looks down like he might karate-chop my hand if I don’t stop touching him.
I quickly pull away, and I’m all out of ideas when, miracle of miracles, Vinny steps outside.
“Did Michelle get here yet?” he asks Adrian.
“Nope.” Adrian juts out his chin toward me. “But this girl claims to know Milo.”
“I do know him.” I shove myself in between them. “Vinny, please tell Adrian that I’m not lying.”
Vinny blinks at me. “Hey, I thought you said you weren’t coming.” To Adrian, he says, “We know her.”
Adrian frowns and crosses his arms. Finally, he says, “You can go inside, but I’d better not see you with a drink in your hand.”
My stomach squeezes. Little does he know, I never want to even look at alcohol again. “Loud and clear.”
Vinny is waiting for his girlfriend to bring a neck strap for his saxophone, so he doesn’t come inside with me.