“Hey, they answered already! They want us to fly over this weekend if we can make it!” Jax’s voice is trembling with excitement.
“This weekend?” Beck asks incredulously.
“Tomorrow.” Jax nods vigorously. “They’ll send us plane tickets right away if we agree.”
“What the hell?” Colin laughs in disbelief.
“Apparently they’re trying to sign us quickly.” Jax leans back, stretching his arms above his head. “Oh my God, this is so cool! We’re flying to LA!”
“Tomorrow,” I repeat, and suddenly it all seems to be happening way too fast. It’s absurd. This email is everything we ever wanted, everything we’ve worked for. For years. It’s not too fast. But it still feels that way.
I think of Rayne, and I feel cold.
Chapter 46
Rayne
I Know It Won’t Work—Gracie Abrams
The problem with wanting something more than anything else is that sometimes you lose sight of how much you have to sacrifice to get it. We were so focused on the band finally finding a label that we didn’t think about what it might mean for Easton and me. It’s kind of ironic that we’re probably going to end up swapping cities.
First I was in LA, and he was in Boston. Soon I’ll be in Boston and he’ll be in LA.
I never gave a second thought to the fact that our time together in Boston might be limited. Now I wish I had. There’s a sharp pain in my chest as I stand in front of Easton’s house, staring indecisively at the door. I’ve been standing here for quite a while because I don’t dare to knock. If I go in, decisions will probably have to be made, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that. I’m afraid I won’t.
“Hi.” I hear Willow’s voice behind me, and I can tell she’s smiling.
I turn around and force a smile. “Hi.”
I haven’t seen Willow in weeks. She’s been traveling a lot and is hardly ever home. The fact that we’re meeting on the porch right now, just like the first time, feels somehow significant. It’s like we’ve come full circle. Except I’m not so sure if that’s a good thing.
“Won’t the guys let you in?”
I shake my head, a tiny white lie, because there’s no way I can tell her I’m just too scared.
“Good thing I have a key.” She steps past me and opens the front door. I want to follow her inside, but it’s incredibly difficult because my throat suddenly feels tight.
“Rayne, are you coming?” Willow gives me a questioning look from the hallway.
“Yes.” I straighten my shoulders and enter the house.
Everything is the same as always, but only on the surface, because today everything is different. The atmosphere in the house is more tense than usual, more excited. It’s no wonder.
I’d like to say that I’m one hundred percent happy for Easton and the band, and I mostly am. Really. But there’s also this fear that ties my stomach in knots because I know what’s coming. Whathas tocome. That’s why it would be a lie to say something else. I’m happy because their dream is coming true, but I’m only ninety-eight percent happy. The other two percent is pure reluctance, and that makes me a terrible friend.
I take my time removing my coat and boots before going into the living room. I can hear Willow squeal with excitement; Easton must have just told her the good news. I want to turn around and run away so we don’t have to have this conversation. But that would be unfair and cowardly.
So I pad into the living room in my socks, where Willow is holding Easton in a vice-like embrace, repeatedly telling him how incredibly proud of him she is.
“Hey, Sunshine.” Beck spots me first. His eyes are shining, and he’s literally vibrating with excitement.
“Hey.” I walk over to him and hug him first, then the others, tightly and a little too long, telling them how happy I am for them, how great this all is, and that they deserve this offer more than anyone else in the world. Then I come to Easton, and the lump in my throat suddenly feels so big that I can’t get a sound out. For the second time today, I just want to cry.
Without a word, he pulls me toward him. I guess he can sense what’s going on inside me, or maybe he feels what I’m hoping for but at the same time don’t want to hope for.
“We’re going upstairs for a minute,” he says to his friends, then grabs my hand and pulls me out of the living room. The stairs creak under our feet, and I fight back the tears burning in my eyes. I’m terrible. I should just be happy, and I want to be, because he really deserves it. He deserveseverything.
As soon as he closes his bedroom door behind us, I burst into tears. Salty streams run down my cheeks.
