I waited…and waited. Uh-huh. I’d been right. Fucking asshole.
Heading to the laundry room, I folded the clothes that had been in the dryer, deciding that I’d put all but one pair of jeans and two t-shirts in a box, because the rest of the clothes there were what I considered touring costumes. After throwing the other load from the washer into the dryer, I picked up the stack and headed to my room. Halfway there, I felt my phonevibrate in my back pocket, notifying me that I’d received a text message.
Braden was probably awake and wanting to make plans for later in the day.
After I got to my room, I set the clothes on top of my dresser before pulling out my phone to see two messages—from Zack.Can I come over?followed byAre you at your house?
I was—and I was alone. School in Nopal had just started up and my mom had been working longer-than-usual hours, so I’d been home all day by myself. Did I dare meet with Zack alone?
I debated for several minutes before texting him back. I assured myself that I was strong—and I was. Anymore, I simply felt anger and frustration with Zack. Knowing this, I could hold my own, because his old charms simply wouldn’t work with me anymore.Yeah. You can come over—but I’m hanging out with Braden tonight.
Okay. Be there soon.
And I waited. I found a box in the overheated garage and shook it out in case it held any dust while making sure no spiders had taken up residence. Then I packed up my concert clothes and left the box on my dresser, because there were a few other items in the dryer that would need to be added to it before I tucked it away in my closet. I’d also decided that, with the royalties I’d earned, I would need to shop for clothes. I needed a few regular things to wear—and more professional items, whether I wound up applying for work or attending classes.
Braden shot me a text when he got up and said it was going to be spaghetti night at the Mitchell household that evening, followed by card games.We’re going to teach you progressive rummy tonight, he promised. He’d been telling mefor a while that it was a family favorite but we’d never had the chance to play.
So I sent him a teasing text back.It’s about time!
You’ve had mom’s spaghetti before.He followed it up with a winking emoji.
I sent him a laughing emoji and then textedILY.
When I got his standard reply,LY2, I heard the knock at the front door.
Zack.
I let out a long breath and made my way through the house, pausing again to inhale deeply before opening the door.
Jesus. I hadn’t expected him to look like he did. I’d been prepared to see good ol’ Rock Star Zack in full regalia, complete with sunglasses and swagger.
Instead, the man walking through the door was broken. It was a testament to how much I’d tried to ignore him during the last few weeks on the road. Even though I’d had that long glance at him when we’d driven away from the bus, I hadn’t noticed just how much weight he’d lost again…or how pale his face looked. His cheeks appeared almost hollow, his eyes dull, the circles underneath a dark gray. The t-shirt he wore hung on his frame loosely—not snug or displaying healthy muscles as it had before we’d started the tour to support our third album.
He looked like shit—haunted and beaten down.
Don’t give in, Dani.
It was Zack at his worst that often brought out my nurturing side—and that made me vulnerable to whatever hold he might still have on me. So I had to remain resolute. There was noZack and me, nous, no way we could ever be a couple. I knew this logically…and felt gratitude that my heart was trying hard to catch up with my brain.
As he walked in, I hoped my face didn’t give away how shocked I was at his appearance—because I shouldn’t have been. I’d seen him at his worst before—and, deep down, I did love him as a friend and wanted him to be okay. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Uh…do you have any coffee made?”
“No—but I don’t mind making some. I could use a cup.”
So we headed to the kitchen. While I filled up the carafe with water, I asked, “So what do you need to talk about? You said the band?” I turned my head so I could watch his face and his expression seemed sincere.
“Yeah.”
“What about? I’m officially no longer with the band.” Did he want my opinion about their direction or if they should hire another female drummer? I had no idea but I would have been lying to myself if I’d said I wasn’t curious.
“You. Can I talk you into staying?”
As I poured the water in the coffee pot, I gritted my teeth. We’d already had this discussion. There was really no point in rehashing it. “No. I told you I can’t do this anymore.”
“That’snotwhat you said.” I could feel myself growing angry again, my usual emotion around this man of late, so I just focused on putting a paper filter in the basket before scooping fresh coffee grounds into it. Zack’s voice cut through all my thoughts. “You said you’d leave the band if I didn’t go to rehab.”
“Yeah.”So?I flipped the button on the coffee maker and then pulled two mugs out of the cabinet, trying to prolong not having to face him.
