a great time tonight! Come see us again real soon!” I blink up at the stage. The set is over. The crowd is going crazy. I can feel the energy radiating off Tristan. The post-gig high has already started. It’s my absolute favorite time to be around him. When he’s floating on the echo of the crowd’s cheers and his feet don’t touch the ground. Everything you say is groundbreaking, every joke you make is hilarious, every kiss you steal is earthshaking.
Tristan hops down from the stage and is immediately swarmed by people. New fans, old fans, pretty girls, not-so-pretty girls. I squeeze through them, trying to stay close to him, but I keep getting shoved back. Everyone wants to meet Tristan. Or at the very least, stand within ten feet of him.
Finally I grab his hand to keep from getting lost in the storm.
He looks down at my fingers interlaced in his and then up at me, flashing me a warm but hurried smile.
“Give me a minute?” he says. “I’ll come find you.”
Oh.
I keep my game face on. “Sure! Of course. I’ll be by the carnival games.”
“Awesome. I’ll meet you there.” Then he brings my hand up to his lips, kisses it, and lets go.
I try to catch his eye again for one last smile, but he’s already turned his back to me to take a selfie with someone.
I push through the swarm and wander over to the aisle with all the games. I take a seat at the horse race game again. I pick horse number seven because aren’t sevens supposed to be lucky?
I do better this time. I manage to sink two balls instead of just one and my horse moves a whole four paces, but the buzzer goes off announcing the winner before I’ve even started to get the hang of it. How do these people win so fast? Do they practice at home? Do they have little ball ramps set up in their basements?
I play two more games and still lose miserably. I scowl as I watch the carnival employee hand some tween girl a giant stuffed polar bear and congratulate her on her victory. That girl is barely Hadley’s age. She’s probably a plant working for the carnival.
Fortunately Tristan finds me before I pump the very last of my dollars into this money pit.
I jump up from the stool, wrap my arms around him, and kiss him.
I wait for the fireworks. The lightning. I wait for my knees to crumple beneath me at the feel of his strong mouth pressing against mine. But none of it comes. That amazing, contagious post-gig high is nowhere to be found. In fact, he barely even kisses me back.
I pull away and untangle my arms from his neck. “You were amazing up there!” I say, trying to reinvigorate him. Trying to get back a smidgen of what I know I saw in him on that stage.
He smiles weakly. “Thanks.”
“I’d ask you if you were ready to rock this carnival, but apparently you already have.”
Another puny smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Actually,” he begins somberly, “I don’t think I’m going to stay.”
Dread rips through me.
No. It can’t be happening. Not again.
“What?” I protest. “But you just got here.”
Wow, I sound even whinier than I did last night.
“Yeah, but—”
“You can’t possibly need to meet with the guys again. You got a gig! I fixed it!”
Confusion clouds his eyes. Of course it does. To him, I’m not making any sense.
“Actually I do need to meet with the guys,” he says warily. “That gig was off the hook and I’m so grateful you got it for us. I think it’s brought us to a whole new level. We got like five people interested in booking us tonight alone. So we really need to meet and strategize our next move.”
I feel a scream of frustration boiling up inside me.
I remind myself to stay calm. This doesn’t mean he’s going to break up with me again. It only means he has to meet with the band. There’s absolutely nothing to worry—
“But I wanted to talk to you about something before I left, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone.”
The ground beneath my feet drops out and I’m suddenly plummeting into the bubbling hot, liquid lava center of the earth.
I close my eyes. Maybe if I squeeze them tight enough, I’ll wake up. Maybe if I can’t see him, he can’t go through with this.
“Ellie,” he begins, and I hear the