AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I hadn’t actually planned a night at a strip club—I wasn’t lying when I said I hadn’t planned anything at all. The words were a figure of speech. I had no interest in strip clubs, and Vicki would probably be so repulsed she wouldn’t even go in. But Mom’s reaction made alarm bells go off.
“What do you care what we do?” I asked her. “I’ll just take Vicki and the bridesmaids out for some drinks or something. It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a big deal, because Tina plans to go, and so do I.”
I slid in behind the wheel. “Tina, your boss? Wait—you invited your boss to the bachelorette party?”
“She wants to go!” Mom cried. “She’s looking forward to it! She wants to meet all of you, and she said it sounded fun! If she’s going, I have to go! You can’t take her to a strip club!”
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips to my forehead. How the hell was I supposed to plan a bachelorette party? I had never been to one in my life, and I was about to play the gig that could finally turn my career around. For the millionth time, I remembered that I was the wrong person for this job. It should have been Hayley or Melanie or Petra, not me.
But it wasn’t one of them. It was me, and I wasn’t giving up the job now. Vicki could have fired me by now, but inexplicably, she hadn’t. Even though we could barely get along, for some reason she still wanted me to be her maid of honor.
I hated it when people had expectations of me. But I hated looking like loser even more. And I hated the thought of letting down my sister, because I knew it would be the final time. “I’ll think of something,” I said.
“The girls say you haven’t asked for any money. What’s your budget?”
Was I supposed to ask the other bridesmaids for money? I had no clue, but the thought stung my pride. “I’m not asking them for money. It’s my party. I’ll pay for it.” I had no idea how. I hoped Tina would enjoy an evening at the local rep cinema, where we might catch a revival of Shaft for ten bucks per head, or a couple rounds of pool.
“Julie,” Mom said in her disappointed voice, and her disbelief in me stung all over again. Broke Jules, disorganized Jules, unreliable Jules. Who trusted her with something as important as her sister’s bachelorette party? You’d have to be crazy to think she could pull it off, that she’d even try.
“I’ll think of something,” I said again, through gritted teeth. “I have to go.”
I hung up. I had to throw a party in Seattle. I had nowhere to throw it, no money, and no plan. I didn’t know how many people were attending. Oh, and it had to be perfect, or I would permanently destroy the threadbare remains of my family relationships, which I both needed and resented at the same time.
Not a big deal or anything.
I had improvised set lists, repaired broken bass strings in the middle of a show, and dealt with band members too drunk to play. I could do this.
Or not.
I couldn’t think about it now. I turned the key in the ignition and headed for rehearsal.
It had been two weeks since the weekend with Finn, and we hadn’t seen each other. We texted every day—a familiar volley of insults, random thoughts, daily updates, and sarcastic jokes. We didn’t talk about that weekend, and if I often thought of it—if I remembered standing in his backyard inhaling the scent of rain, or the warmth of his bed, or the music he’d played for me—I didn’t say anything. In some ways, that weekend didn’t feel real, as if it had happened to someone else, or on a different timeline. Now I was me again, living my life of playing music with the Road Kings, being ignored by my roommate, and trying to stay on top of my bills.
If I told myself so enough times, it was like it never happened.
I was nervous about the Paramount shows, but I was ready. We had rehearsed as much as we could. The Road Kings had played together for so long that they barely needed much rehearsal at all, so the extended practice time was for my benefit. I wasn’t sure why they were going to so much trouble for a temporary band member who would be gone when Neal decided to come back, but I didn’t ask questions. I was getting used to the feeling of playing with musicians you relied on onstage, like you were doing a high-wire act with the best possible safety net beneath you. It gave you the freedom to experiment, because you always knew that if you fell, the others would catch you. So I backed up Denver’s vocals more and more, and I experimented, and I thought that maybe it sounded good.
We could have driven ourselves to Seattle, but instead, there was a bus. “Will’s idea,” Stone explained when I boarded, my duffel bag on my shoulder. “He likes to think of us as an official rock n’ roll band.”
“It’s just Seattle,” I said. “Not a tour.”
“Don’t ask questions, Barstow.”
Denver and Axel were already on the bus, which was the most high-end bus I’d ever seen. There were bunks to sleep in, a TV, and comfortable chairs. It was nicer than my apartment. I wondered if I could move in if I asked Will nicely and offered to pay rent.
“Welcome to the bus,” Axel said, lifting his arms and gesturing expansively. “I have to warn you, though. There are rules.”
I dropped my duffel bag on a bunk. “If there’s some kind of hazing thing, I’ll punch you in the dick,” I said. “Each of you. One by one.”
“That’s a tad hostile,” Denver commented.
“The rules,” Stone said as the door closed and the bus started to pull away from the curb. He listed them off. “No drinking on the bus. No fucking on the bus.”
“Excuse me?” I shouted.
Stone ignored me. “No puking on the bus. No smelly food on the bus.” He pointed to a door at the back. “The bathroom is for pissing only. Nothing else.”
