“We've got time," I said. "You won't do us any good if you pass out from hunger.” I glanced at Brenda. “We need more supplies. There's literally nothing here but alcohol.”
“I know, I know.” Messing with her hair, she pouted. “Think you guys can handle pizza today? I promise after the show tomorrow I'll pack this place full of goodies for the next hike.”
Porter stole more coffee from the box on the table. “I can eat more pizza if you promise to add some fruit to the next stock up.” Noting Brenda's squint, he bobbed his shoulders. “We can't live on sugar and fat alone. You want this band to make it another few years?”
“Actually, I don't know if I'll make it to tomorrow,” Colt groaned. He stumbled down the hall, his face looking like wet cheese. “Fuck, I really did drink too much.”
The sweet, shocking sound of Lola's laugh lit my ears up. She was sitting in the chair, one knee hugged to her chest. The blue in her eyes was glowing. “Sorry,” she said quickly, covering her grin. “You guys are hilarious sometimes.”
Tugging at the hem of my shirt, I sat across from Lola. “Pizza's fine with you?”
“Anything is fine right now.” She toyed with the ends of her hair, her smile fading. “Whatever they used made my hair super soft. I'll never replicate this.”
The tip of my fingers itched to touch the silky strands; to touch any part of her. “Wait till we get backstage at the show. You'll see some real crews for hair and makeup then.”
The bus seat opposite us creaked as Ported fell into it. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “And if you thought last night was crazy, the afterparty will destroy you.”
I didn't like his phrasing. My lips made a bloodless line. The afterparties, where guys will be fawning all over the new guitarist of Four and a Half Headstones. Now my fingers were aching to choke the throats of those imaginary men.
“I've been to afterparties.” She folded her legs, the tip of her boots almost brushing my knee. I felt the kiss of air like it was a lightning bolt. “I was following and helping Barbed Fire, remember? On the first leg of this tour, we ended up at this random girl's house. It was insane.”
Colt's chuckle was patronizing. “Right right. Like Porter said, wait till you experience a real afterparty.”
Her delicious mouth became an electric eel. “Fuck you, the parties I went to were great.”
“But you weren't famous,” Colt said. He folded his arms behind his head, leaning on a window nearby. “After tomorrow, you will be. Then you'll see.”
Then she'll see.
Looking up, I spotted Brenda on her phone. She had her back to us, standing near the front of the bus. Ordering us some food. Good. The longer I sat near Lola, the more I needed to put something between my gnashing teeth.
I worried I'd grind my molars down before this tour was done.
- Chapter Ten -
Lola
The pizza fueled me enough for the next four hours of practice. That was good, I needed something in my stomach; it kept doing flips and pretzels the closer we got to the concert location.
I was relieved that I'd been able to make my hands listen to me as we played. Something had happened that morning. It was like Drezden hid himself behind a curtain. He still sounded the same, it was just the fuel in his emerald eyes had burned out. Whatever the change, not being on the end of his assassin style demeanor let me play to my fullest.
I had to admit, we sounded fucking great.
Porter and Colt squeezed out into the hallway, arguing over who was taking a shower first. When the curtain dropped, I became acutely aware that I was alone with Drez. Relax, he isn't going to bite you. I wasn't sure about that.
Tying my hair off of my sweating neck, I rolled my head. “Starting to get a muscle cramp,” I mumbled. Rubbing at the gap between neck and shoulder, I winced.
A shadow fell over me. “Is it bad?” he asked.
The inside of my throat was made from sand and ash. Remember how he said to stop pretending to be tough. Just tell him! “It's super tight, yeah,” I admitted.
Drezden settled next to me on the bench, straddling it so he could face me. He twirled a finger in the air, motioning for me to turn around. “Let me massage it out. You'll be stiff and useless for the show