When we get into the car, I tell Mom we need to stop by the Dylans’ house. I’m sure she imagines I want to see Ten. I turn on the radio until I hear the host discussing my performance at the Ryman Theater, whichthey’ll broadcast on their channel as well as on their website. I flick the radio off. I don’t need any more wasps flapping around inside me. Yes, wasps. I’m reserving butterflies for the good feels.
When the mansion comes into view, I text Ten that we’re out front. He comes out with Nev and walks her all the way down the path. Nev donned the little black dress with red hearts we bought during our mall expedition. She wears it with a pair of black cowboy boots and a denim jacket.
No jeans or leggings.
“Hey, kids,” Mom says through my open window.
“Hi, Jade.” Ten opens the back door.
“Oh. Are you… coming with us?” Her eyes zip to the house, as though she’s expecting Jeff to come barreling down the path.
“Yeah,” Ten says.
I spin as I watch him slide into the backseat beside Nev.
“You’re coming too?” I ask breathily.
“I missed your first performance,” Ten says. “Wouldn’t want to miss your second one.” I must look like I’m two seconds away from crying, because he adds, “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
I blink, heart all squashed up in my chest. I know how much he despises Mona. I know how much he wishes I had another passion than music. And yet, he’s here.
He clips himself in. “Seat belt, Nev.”
Nev rolls her eyes but drags on her seat belt.
Mom still hasn’t started the car. “Uh. Does Jeff know?”
“Yeah. I told him,” Ten says.
“You did?” I squeak.
Ten nods.
“And he’s okay with it?” Mom asks.
“He’s okay with it.”
Mom cocks an eyebrow.
“I promise, Jade,” Ten says. “I would never get you in trouble.”
“Okay, then.” Mom finally puts the car in gear and pulls away from the curb.
After a couple of minutes of air-conditioned silence, Nev asks, “Are you nervous, Angie?”
“Yeah.” I don’t return the question because I sense how Nev is feeling.
She’s been joggling her knees and coiling a long lock of hair around her index finger since we left their house.
When the Ryman comes into view, the wasps become more insistent. I press my hand against my stomach. I’m suddenly not sure if I can do this but then remember why I’m doing it. For Nev.
I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth as Mom slides past a horde of paparazzi corralled in by police barricades. We sent our license plate number ahead of time so they would know to let the car through.
Flashes go off anyway, but hopefully the images will be too grainy to use. At least Ten had the presence of mind to get his sister to duck a block ago.
We park behind a shiny chrome van with Mona Stone’s logo. The woman with the curly hair and glasses I ran into back at the hotel approaches the car. When she sees me exit the vehicle, her eyes grow a little wider.
“I know you,” she says.
