“Where you from, Clay?Not detecting any notable accent.”
He laughs.“Denver.You?”
“Tennessee,” I say proudly.
“Dang, I had guessed Texas.To be fair, I knew you were country even before you opened your mouth.Between that mullet and that vest-shirt thing...everything about you says I have a twang.”
“And proud of it,” I say with a smile as we reach the bartender, a cute blonde with a colorful sleeve of tattoos popping out from her otherwise all-black uniform.
“I know we’re a bit early, but do you think we could get a couple drinks in advance?Please,” Clay says, mildly begging and looking at her with big puppy-dog eyes and a wide smile.She looks between us through narrowed eyes.
Smile, Levi.Your drink depends on it.
It hurts, but I think I’m smiling, and whether it was him or me, it must have worked because she is filling two clear Solo cups to the top with whatever beer they have on tap.
“That’s it until after filming.I promised not to overserve until after they get their cut, so behave.”
“Yes, ma’am,” we both say in unison before slipping away to the outside patio chairs to watch production.
“So, what happens now?I didn’t read past ‘Be downstairs at 4:30 p.m.,’” Clay admits with a guilt-ridden look.I look down at my watch.It’s 4:20 p.m.
“In about ten minutes, they’re going to line us up over there like we’re about to be auctioned off on The Bachelor or whatever.”
“They don’t auction people off on The Bachelor, Nash.It’s a dating show.Come on, man.”
“Why do you know this?”
“Why do you?”he says back.
“Girlfriends,” I grumble.Really, just one girl.The only girl I sincerely dated in high school—Abby.Or at least I was sincere.It’s crazy that seven years later there’s still something like acid reflux in my stomach when I think about her and that doggone electric car of hers.I must have a far-out gaze, or my jaw’s wound one notch too tight, because I’m startled by a clap on the shoulder.I stare violently at the place of impact.
“Whoa, where’d you go, my guy?”Clay’s smile is wide and disarming.I shake off my annoyance.Having an ally might not be such a bad idea.
“Anyways,” I continue, “they’ll introduce us one by one and then announce the group song.After that, they will split us into groups of two and three.Those will be our singing partners to practice with, starting tomorrow at five a.m.”
“Five a.m.!”he exclaims.
“Yeah, well, even with the benefit of the two-hour bump, getting there on time will still be a stretch.I need to try and go to bed early.”
“Well now, that’s on you, because I’m fixing to get to know some of the talent out here tonight.”Clay does a little head flip, drawing my attention behind me.When I turn, I see them.Girls.Girls and more girls.They’re all funneling out from the slider onto the back patio.There are some guys in there, but mostly...girls.And all uniquely beautiful.
“Maybe it’s more like Top Model,” I remark, not moving my eyes.
“You haven’t seen that one either, right?
“Nope.Does it apply?”I look back at Clay to read his expression before hearing his response.
“Oh man, it does now.Who is that!”
Reluctantly, I turn my head again, feeling like I’ve seen all there is to see.That’s when familiarity steps in and smacks me in the back of the head with a bowling bag.On the patio landing, surrounded by nothing short of thirty others, are Gabriella and Tate.Gabriella has changed from that tube-looking dress into a white mini with see-through sleeves, making her tan skin pop like ink on a page.Our little tour this afternoon was a waste of time.This is the kitchen where we will eat, type of stuff, but I didn’t hate her clutching onto me.Tate, true to form, is wearing a long, flowy, multicolored dress.
“In the white?That’s Gabriella.She’s definitely...”
“No, no.The girl next to her.The one dressed like a happy Stevie Nicks.
“Oh...Tate?”The sour swirl in my stomach returns.
“Tate.I’m going to go over there and make me a friend.You coming?”
