Before that fateful day, Zack texted us all, asking us to join him online for a quick meeting. When I got on my laptop, I hoped our faces wouldn’t give away what was coming. Braden had told me Cy wasn’t happy about the whole thing but that he’d be there anyway. Knowing it would only be a few of us and that he wouldn’t have to say anything if he didn’t want to sealed the deal.
When I logged on, I was surprised that Cy and Braden weren’t at Zack’s place. Instead, Braden was on his phone in what I thought might be his bedroom and Cy was sitting with a laptop actually on his lap.
Zack was in his kitchen. “Hey, dudes. We got the advance and I need to send you all your share…but I thought now might be a good time to talk about how we divvy it up.”
“We split it four ways,” Cy said, matter of fact as always.
“I can do that—but I just wanted to remind you guys about how the royalties will work when we finally start getting them. You’re all gonna get recording royalties—and you’ll getan equal share of touring income too…but the publishing royalties will be different.”
Braden asked, “What do you mean?”
“I’m credited as the only songwriter on most of the songs—which is fair and honest—but that means I’ll be owed more down the line.” Although it was “fair and honest” like Zack said, he was being a bit of a prick about how he said it. And now probably wasn’t a good time to bring it up.
“So?” Cy asked.
“So…do we want to split it realistically or just have everyone get an equal amount?”
Why the hell was he asking? Was he wanting to hoard more of it? But before my anger could get the best of me, Braden said, “Dude, we need to split it equally. We all gotta live right now. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have, like, four bucks left over from unspent per diems and barely anything in my checking account. That’s not gonna last me until whenever we start getting actual money.”
Cy and I agreed.
“Okay—I just wanted to know. I’ll Venmo it to you.”
And, with that, he disconnected the meeting. It felt rude and cold, making me wonder if that too was due to his drinking. Something I hadn’t said to his mom was how much his personality had changed since his alcohol consumption had escalated…and I worried that Drunk Rock Star Zack might overtake Sweet Boy Zack for all time.
I only hoped this intervention wasn’t coming too late.
My phone vibrated and I saw Braden’s name flash across the screen. I figured he was feeling the same way. But after I answered the phone, he surprised me. “I wanted to ask you out to dinner tonight. Like you said…like a real date.”
Oh. His voice was so soft, so earnest, so sweet. I couldn’tsay no to him, so we agreed that he would pick me up at five that evening.
And this time I’d probably tell my mom not to wait up for me…even if it wasn’t the best idea.
Braden arrivedat five o’clock on the dot and surprised me again—this time with a bouquet of white and pink flowers. And he was wearing a suit.
“Oh, shit,” I said, opening the door wider. “I’m underdressed.” That was an understatement. I was wearing one of my touring t-shirts, ripped jeans, and an old pair of black sneakers that I hadn’t worn since high school.
“You look great.”
“You’re blind. Please come in for a sec while I change clothes.” And I hoped to do it quick enough to avoid my mother returning from her trip to the tiny market located on one of the two blocks that constituted Nopal’s Main Street. I didn’t want to have to explain to her that I was dating Braden.
“Um, where do you want these?” Turning, I saw Braden holding the beautiful flowers that I hadn’t put my nose to yet.
“Oh, uh…” I started walking toward the kitchen and he followed. “I think my mom has some vases under the sink.” I rifled through the cabinet, past the dishwashing liquid and powder for the dishwasher, bug spray, stuff for cleaning the floor and stove, empty coffee cans, and finally found three vases. One of them looked tall and wide enough to accommodate the lovely bunch of flowers Braden had brought for me. “Do you mind putting them in there while I change really fast?”
Although the expression on his face told me he’d rather doanything else, he said, “Sure.” As I darted out of the kitchen, he raised his voice. “Our reservation’s for five-thirty.”
Reservation?Jesus. Braden was taking this a whole lot more seriously than I had. As I tore through my closet, I found one lone dress: a sundress I’d worn once during the summer between my junior and senior year, and only because my mother had bought it for me. But it was the only dress I owned. My feminist streak had made me abhor all things girlie, as I wanted to be considered one of the boys. True, I still had a couple of leather miniskirts but I considered those touring costumes.
What was in this closet was Dani, the hometown girl from Nopal. I’d shoved all my touring clothing, save the shirt on my back, in a couple of drawers after laundering it, and I didn’t want to see it again for a while.
Relieved I’d shaved my legs in preparation for possibly spending the night with Braden, I rubbed lotion on them quickly and then looked for shoes in my closet that might be appropriate. There was an old pair of flip-flops that had seen far better days. The sundress was a light blue on a background of white with flecks of red and yellow, and the flipflops were lavender. No way.
I finally decided to wear the pair of black Converse that I’d worn on the road. They were in decent shape and, paired with no-show socks, looked okay with the dress. But the evenings could still be cool this time of year, so I grabbed my jean jacket and tucked my phone and wallet into one of the pockets.
Glancing at myself in the mirror, I thought I looked okay. My hair had grown longer over the past year and I considered trying to put it up a bit but changed my mind. I looked less like a groupie and more like a young woman who didn’t want to embarrass her date.
As I left the bedroom, I reminded myself that I needed tobe careful with Braden’s heart. He obviously cared about me a lot and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him like Zack had hurt me. “Okay, I’m ready,” I said, popping into the kitchen.
