“What?” Travis asks when he notices me staring at him, amusement tugging my lips upward.
“Not interested?” He lifts his brows, making me explain even though he knows damn well what I’m talking about. “They were pretty.”
He shrugs. “Not feeling it tonight.”
“Mmhm.”
He kicks my shin. “What about you, fucker?”
I shake my head, turning to the window as Tanner pulls out. Travis knows better than anyone when and why I stopped entertaining groupies. Or wannabe groupies, as I call them, because we’re not famous at all. The incident with Casey was the first in a while, and I had gotten to know her a little more because she was popping up everywhere.
After my dad died, I spent a lot of time trying to drown my grief in anything and everything. There was a lot of booze and girls, but those things did fuck all to heal the black hole that’s still gaping in my chest.
That shit got old fast. When I’d woken up after a ragingbender with two girls I had no recollection of, I’d had enough. I was busy drinking and fucking my sorrows away instead of manning up and taking care of my responsibilities, like my dad would’ve wanted, and I didn’t notice Pacey slipping away. By the time I did, it was too late. She was already gone.
When the guys drop me off at my place, I go straight to bed, pulling out my phone and staring at the screen, willing my sister’s name to show up. I open our message thread, but there is nothing new. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve called her in the last few months. If it weren’t for her voice on the voicemail, I’d think she changed her number. No, she’s just avoiding me. She has a good reason. I was an ass, but she’s ignoring our mom too and she doesn’t deserve that after everything she’s been through.
Losing my dad was hard on all of us, but Pacey was with him when it happened, so she understandably took it the worst. She withdrew into herself and shut the rest of us out. My once bright and bubbly sister was gone.
My mom and Ray keep telling me to give her time, let her find her way back, but I don’t want to do that. I want to drag her back kicking and screaming. Pacey has always been stubborn—a wildcard. It was cute when she was younger, following me everywhere and inserting herself in everything she wanted to be a part of, invited or not. She didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’ because our parents—our dad—rarely told her no. Now it’s different. She’sdifferent, and it’s my fault.
11
OLIVIA
I roll over in bed,grab my phone, and open Pinterest to look over the crochet patterns I saved the other day. I still need to finish the project I’m working on, but I can browse. I scroll for a few minutes before Instagram calls to me.
I haven’t seen or spoken to Penn since the night at Travis’s last weekend. Not that I expected to, but I find myself typing his name in the search bar. Last time I did this, I was only researching the band.
He only has six photos posted. All, except for one, are shots of the band playing on what appears to be the makeshift stage in Travis’s garage. There’s a single shot of him holding his shiny red guitar, standing on a bigger stage. He’s wearing a plain black shirt, and his hair is messily styled to the side. His hands rest casually on the instrument as he stares into the crowd, his blue eyes shimmering, threatening to suck you in if you get too close.
“Hey, babe,” Ellie says, dropping herself on my bed.
I jump, pressing the phone to my chest. I didn’t even hear her come in.
“What are you looking at?” she asks suspiciously.
“Nothing.”
Her eyes narrow, and she reaches for my phone, pulling it back enough to flash herself the screen. Her eyes light up. “Is that Penn?”
I throw my phone face down on the bed. “What? No.”
“You liar! It was, wasn’t it?” She snatches my phone before I can stop her. “I knew it! Is someone crushing on the lead guitarist?” Her eyebrows dance playfully as she inspects his page with a too wide smile.
“Ugh, no. I was just curious.”
“Mhmm, I see that. This actually works out well for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Travis asked me to go out this week. You know, a movie and dancing, and I want my bestie to go with me.”
I shake my head. “No way. I don’t want to be your third wheel.”
“You won’t. It’ll be a double date. Duh.” She zooms in on one of the pictures, and I can’t help but lean closer. It’s a picture of all four guys sitting on the grass, the sun setting in the distance, casting an orange glow over them. They look younger here. I wonder if it’s when they first started the band. Liam’s hair is down past his shoulders in the photo, and Travis’s mohawk is blue. Liam and Travis are wearing easy smiles, while Tanner and Penn stare broodily at the camera.
“So will you?” Ellie asks, nudging me.
