"The one you were visiting," I said. "I hope they're doing better now. If they're stuck in the hospital for much longer, maybe I can do something? Keep an eye out to make sure they've got stuff to keep them entertained. Maybe visit a few times to keep them from getting lonely?"
The questioning look on Nathan's face faded. His eyes turned almost soft as he stared at me. "That's sweet of you to offer. But I think she'll be out soon." His lips twitched downward, fighting back a disheartened frown. "It's just a few more tests."
I knew all too wella few testsdidn't always mean things were going well.
"Are you sure everything is okay?" I asked him.
"Yeah," he said quickly. "Everything's cool."
Everything clearly wasn't cool, but I wasn't going to press. Rock star or not, this guy was still a stranger.
"Sounds to me like you have found your calling," he said. "Working with kids is a noble pursuit."
"I've never thought of it that way. I just wanted to throw myself into something to distract me from—" I stopped, cutting myself off abruptly. I looked down into my glass. "Just to keep me busy, I suppose," I finished.
"No, I get it," Nathan said. "Sometimes you need something else to concentrate on that isn't your own life. You need to focus on something else outside of yourself. As an escape, almost."
"That's exactly it," I said, wondering how and why he could articulate what I was feeling so easily. "So it's always been music for you?"
"Always." The fierce gleam in his eyes proved the truth of his words. "I only ever wanted to be a musician when I grew up. People always tried to talk me out of it but I never listened."
"Looks like you showed them all," I said.
"I'm not going to rub it in anyone's face, but it's a nice feeling to prove to everyone I could do it."
"I get it," I said. "It feels really great to beat the odds, doesn't it?"
He looked at me curiously. "What odds did you beat?" he asked.
"Oh, you know," I waved my hand around, panicking a little because I didn't know how to answer. "Just the usual teenaged things."
Nathan cocked his head and opened his mouth to further question me. I hurried to speak first.
"So how long have you been with Cherry Lips?" I asked. "Were they your first band?"
"No," he said. "I used to be with this other band but…" His eyes went dark. He picked at the label on his beer bottle. "Things didn't work out. I joined Cherry Lips afterward. Actually…" When he lifted his eyes back up to mine, there was a more good-humored expression on his face. "We were rival bands at first. Gael and I used to give each other shit all the time. I hated that fucker."
I knew Gael Moreau was the bassist and brother to the lead singer. The fond grin on Nathan's face told me he'd long since gotten over that hatred.
"What changed?" I asked.
He flicked his eyes over my shoulder, avoiding my gaze. "I had some stuff going on back then, when I left the band. Gael helped me through it. Or more like, we got into a fight, tried our best to beat the shit out of each other, and when Gael won, he pinned me down and told me to get my shit together." Nathan snorted in amusement.
"He sounds like a good friend to have," I said. "Minus the beating you up part."
"I gave as good as I got," Nathan said. "That asshole has been my wingman ever since. Or he used to be, at least." He took another drink and avoided my eyes, looking oddly sad.
I wanted to ask him what he meant by that. I didn't know how personal he'd be willing to get, but I was intrigued by him. I wanted to get to know him. Maybe we weren't as different as I'd thought. Maybe we'd both experienced hardships.
But I was afraid if I opened the doors to those kind of personal questions he'd expect the same of me.
Besides, I reminded myself. This was supposed to be a fun, carefree night. No asking probing questions. I was planning to let loose and enjoy myself.
I was about to ask if he wanted to get another drink when Nathan put down his bottle and nodded toward the dance floor.
"Do you like to dance?" he asked.
I looked dubiously at the grinding couples feeling each other up in public. "Is that what that's called?"
