Mon, Nov 23, 10:07 p.m.
Galaxy Rider:
It’s finally finished!!!
Well, mostly. There’s still some rough parts to tweak, but the overall concept has been hammered out.
Indie:
Sweet! What are we talking about again?
Galaxy Rider:
My song. It took forever to write.
Indie:
CONGRATULATIONS!
When do I get to hear it?
Galaxy Rider:
After Thanksgiving? I’ll be in Portland with my family until the 30th, but Alec reserved a studio for us the first week of December, so I’m flying back to LA to record the track. It would be cool if you could come.
Indie:
I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Wed, Nov 25, 8:24 a.m.
Galaxy Rider:
Guess what?
Indie:
Really, Xander? Another Icy Quest commercial? You need to tell your agent you’re looking for more respectable work.
Galaxy Rider:
I’ll be back in LA by the end of the day.
Indie:
I. Can’t. Wait.
Chapter 14
“Want a piece?”
I glanced over my shoulder, away from the dirty dish I was scrubbing, and looked at my dad. He stood at the island, a pumpkin pie in front of him and a sleepy, food coma smile on his face.
“No, thanks,” I replied, my fingers tightening around the sponge clutched in my hand. Our annual Thanksgiving Day football scrimmage would start once we finished cleaning, and I didn’t want to puke in the middle of a play because I’d overeaten. “I’ll have some after the game.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, pulling the plastic lid off the pie container as I turned back to the sink.
Three weeks had passed since my grounding, and although my punishment was up, a palpable tension still lingered between us. We tiptoed around each other, only engaging in polite conversation when absolutely necessary. In fact, this was the first time we’d been alone together since our fight, and I could barely get through a simple yes-no question without wanting to hurl the sponge, a plate, anything really, at his face.
