I hesitate for a moment, then I text East.
Jase:
Do you have time to talk?
His answer comes a few minutes later:
Easton:
I’m at home. The guys are here, but come over if you want.
I write a quick reply and call an Uber, which pulls up a few minutes later. A good fifteen minutes later, my ride spits me out in Southie in front of the tiny house where East lives with his sister, Willow.
I can already tell from a distance that Jax, Beck, and Colin are there. The music from the house is deafening. I don’t bother knocking on the front door, because no one would hear me over the noise, but instead walk around the house and through the microscopic yard to the back door, which is usually open when the band is rehearsing.
I go into the kitchen, which is also ridiculously small, and find Willow standing in front of the fridge wearing oversized noise-canceling headphones. I try to alert her to my presence without startling her. No luck.
She shrieks as she closes the fridge door and notices me.
“Jeez, Jase! Don’t scare me like that!” she cries, pulling off her headphones with one hand and holding the other to her chest.
“Sorry,” I say, then point at the back door. “Maybe you should lock the door if you’re going to walk around with headphones.”
She sighs and rubs her eyes. She looks tired. “I know. East and the others are in the living room. As you can hear.” Willow is a few years older than me and dances for the Boston City Ballet, though she seems to be on an involuntary hiatus, judging from the thick bandage around her ankle.
“Is it bad?” I ask over the music, giving her a sympathetic look. Injuries can end badly for dancers, not least with regard to their careers.
Willow turns pale and avoids my gaze. As though her brother realized something was happening, the music stops. An oppressive silence falls in the small kitchen. “I’ll be fine,” she says softly. Her voice trembles. “A few weeks of rest, then I’ll be back to my old self.”
I just nod, because nothing I say could make the situation any better for her.
“I’m going back upstairs. If you can convince the guys to call it quits for the day, I’d be grateful.” She gives me a weak smile, but tears are shining in her eyes.
“I’ll do my best,” I promise her.
She nods and disappears, limping down the narrow hallway.
I go over to the living room, the biggest room in the house, where East and the others are now sitting on an old swayback sofa, bent over a tattered notebook. East looks up as I enter.
“Jason Alexander Winslow, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He laughs.
I roll my eyes. Aside from my father, East is the only person who ever uses my full name. I have no idea why he does that.
“You can skip the formalities,” I say, slapping the other guys’ hands.
“Nope. I like your name.”
“If you want, I’ll give it to you.” Along with all the obnoxious problems that I have at the moment.
“Hmm, I’ll think about it. What are you doing here, Jase? You didn’t come just to hang around with us, did you?” East eyes me skeptically. Jax, Colin, and Beck look curious. East is right; I wouldn’t just pop by, even though I lived with him and Willow for almost three months last year when I had no idea where to go and East took pity on me. I still hate the fact that it was necessary.
I cross my arms and lean against the wall. “I need a job.”
Colin’s pierced eyebrows go up. “Youneed a job?”
“My parents cut me off. So yeah. I need a job, and a little help wouldn’t suck.”
* * *
