15
AUSTIN
“Everyone ready?”Paul asks.
A mixture of nods andyepsgreets his question as the seven of us circle up next to my tour bus. Aside from Paul and me, there’s Kelly, Rose, Mia, and our two sound guys. Mia’s hair is pushed back with a headband, and she’s got a purse slung over her overalls. I’ve always thought overalls were kind of childish, but every time I see her wearing them, I want to grab the straps and pull her in for a kiss.
“Okay,” Paul says, “obviously, you’re free to do whatever you want today. We’re all adults. No need to stay with the group if you make other plans, but I’d prefer no one go off on their own for safety reasons. Since it sounds like people want to stick together for now, here’s the plan. We’ve got a few hours to wander around the city before our dinner reservations. That’ll be on a boat in St. Mark’s Basin. I basically had to sacrifice my firstborn to get us a spot on the busiest day of the year, so keep that in mind, okay? You can thank me later. It’ll be a very nice dinner, and we can watch the fireworks from there. Best seats in the house, in my opinion.”
Mia holds up her phone screen. “It says 30% chance of rain this evening. Will they cancel the fireworks if it does?”
It’d be great if she could be a lot less beautiful all the time.
Paul chuckles. “A little rain won’t stop these fireworks. Believe me. This is one of the biggest shows in Europe. Anyway, I figure we can make our way toward the piazza from here. It’s a lot of walking, but it’s scenic.”
He’s right. It’s also incredibly crowded. Tonight kicks off theFesta del Redentore, which is the whole reason we’re here—to perform at the big multi-artist festival concert tomorrow. It also means half of Italy and a high percentage of all the tourists in the world are in Venice along with us.
It’s tough to keep a group of seven together in these circumstances. Every few minutes, foot traffic slows as we come to yet another bridge. Keeping my distance from Mia is a goal for the day, but I don’t even have to try, which starts to become annoying after a couple of hours. I couldn’t get next to her if my life depended upon it.
Instead, I settle for glimpses of her admiring, wide eyes as she tries to see over the heads of the crowds to the canals and colorful buildings. It makes me want to offer to put her on my shoulders… or take her to a deserted rooftop.
If it was just for my own good, I don’t know how much power I’d have to resist Mia. But like Paul said, this is for her too.
A few months back, I started seeing this girl I met at a show I did in L.A. When the media got hold of the story, people went crazy. They dug up every bit of dirt they could find on Trish. She got hate mail and death threats. It was insanity, and it completely killed things. Not that things were ever serious. I’ve learned not to do serious.
When we get to Rialto Bridge, the crowds are thicker than ever. I finally find myself next to Mia as we take shuffling baby steps with the awkward pace of the crowd. We aren’t individualswith free will anymore. We are each two legs on a massive millipede of tourists.
I’ve got strangers’ shoulders and hands and feet bumping into mine, but it’s the distance between Mia and me I’m most aware of. Either she’s a lot better at navigating this crowd than I am or she’s intentionally avoiding contact with me.
It takes longer to make our way through the city than Paul had planned. That’s partly the fault of the crowds, partly the fault of the members of our group—cough, Mia, cough—who want to stop at every dinky corner shop to check out souvenirs and art and what-have-you.
We’re a few minutes from the boat when Mia spots a jewelry stand.
“Come on, Mia,” Kelly says. “You’ve looked at a zillion rings today.”
“I know, but I can already see some I like.”
“We’re going to be late,” Paul says, his face red and his voice verging on testy.
“Go on ahead,” Mia says. “I’ll catch up in two minutes.”
“Girl,” Rose says, “if we miss dinner because you’re choosing between amazonite and labradoodlite, so help me?—”
“Labradorite,” Mia says, already heading for the shop owner.
“I’ll stay with her,” I say. “You guys go.”
Paul hesitates, but he’s too worried about missing the reservation to do anything but agree, and the five of them walk on, Paul’s long legs leading the way.
I come up next to Mia and point to a random stone. “That’s the one.”
She looks at me skeptically. “Black onyx?”
“Yep. Super sleek.”
“And amplifies negative emotion.”
I scrunch my nose. “Never mind. You’ve already got plenty of that.”
