itself. About the incredible sensation of his hands on me. He brushes off a few fans that trail after him. He leans against the wall as he reads. I can tell he reads it more than once. He scrubs a hand across his face—the way guys do when they’re in a state of confusion.
He looks at me from across the room. He’s fighting something. I wonder if it has anything to do with the issues Liam spoke of.
He flags down a passing waitress. She pulls a pen from behind her ear and hands it to him. He lays the paper towel against the wall and writes. He shakes the pen and writes again. After a few minutes of this, he comes back over, gives me the paper towel, and walks out of the bar.
I look at what he wrote. He marked out some of my lyrics and changed others. My mouth hangs open. With his modifications, I think we’ve just written one of the saddest love songs of our time.
What happened to him that could invoke such loving yet painful words?
I look at the empty doorway and wonder why he feels so much pain, even as I realize that pain may be about to make us a shitload of money.
Chapter Fourteen
Crew
Seven years ago
Abby and I stroll past store after store in the mall until I stop our progress and pin her to the wall with my stare. “What’s the matter?”
She looks at the floor.
“You’ve been acting strange for days. You love shopping, but we’ve yet to go into a single store. What gives? Are you sick?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?” I swallow and take a step back, fear crawling up my spine. “Is there someone else?”
Her eyes snap to mine. “God, no.”
Relief.
“Then what is it?”
A single tear falls from her lashes. “I … oh, Christopher.” She grabs her stomach. “I feel sick. I need a bathroom.”
I rush her to the nearest restroom and wait outside for ten excruciating minutes, wondering what’s going on.
When she finally emerges, her eyes are red and puffy, and she looks exhausted. I think of the past few days—the past week actually—and realize she hasn’t been acting strange per se, just tired.
“You are sick,” I say, leading her to the nearest bench.
She shakes her head. “I’m not.”
She gives her belly a rub, and my heart falls.
“Abbs, really?” I grab her hand. “Are you sure?”
She sniffs away more tears. “There’s nothing else it could be. I’m late. Really late. Three weeks or more. I lost track of time and didn’t think about it until I started feeling … funny.”
“But it could be something else. You could be sick. Maybe you have the flu and that’s the reason you’re late.”
She shrugs weakly.
I stand and pull her to her feet. “Come on. We have to be sure.” I gesture to a drugstore.
She holds me back. “Are you kidding? We can’t go in there. Look around. I see four people from school. And who knows how many people from church could be here. I can’t risk someone seeing us buying a test and telling my parents.”
“Right. We’ll try the next town, and you can stay in the car while I buy one.”
She’s still trying to hold back tears. “You’d do that?”
I raise her hand to my mouth and kiss it. “I’d do anything for you.”
“You’re not mad?”
“I’m definitely not mad. Scared maybe. Surprised. But not mad. I’m just as much to blame as you are. More maybe, since I’m the one who buys the condoms.”
We leave the mall, reach her car, and get in. “You wore one every time,” she says. “How could this be happening?”
“We’re not sure it is. Your period has been whacky before.”
“It’s different this time. It’s like I know.”
“Or you’re scared and imagining the worst-case scenario.”
“What would we do?”
“Let’s not think about that yet, okay? One thing at a time.”
I hold her hand for thirty minutes while I drive. Thirty minutes of silence, both of us surely contemplating what will happen if what she fears is true.
“Stay here,” I say after pulling up to a drugstore.
I reach in the backseat and put on a baseball cap I left in her car. Then I raise the collar of my jacket around my neck. I probably look like I’m going to rob the place, but I can’t risk anyone recognizing me and going to Abby’s father.
I peruse the pregnancy tests and pick the most expensive one, thinking it must be the best. Then I grab a bag of