Page 7 of Kind of Famous
“Let me see. Times Square?”
“No, Mom. I was there today. It’s crazy over there.”
“Oh, I know. Your dad and I went there a couple of years ago. Remember?”
I remembered. It was an anniversary trip. “I do, but I’m actually in Brooklyn at someone’s house.”
“Ooh. That’s interesting. Is it a coworker’s house? I hope it’s not some stranger’s house. You haven’t been meeting people in bars, have you?”
I snorted. “No, Mom. This is actually someone I already knew, but she didn’t know me.”
“Hmm. A mystery. Is it one of your friends from online?”
“Something like that.”
“Oh, you’ll have to just tell me. We’re here.”
“She’s a friend of a band I follow. Her name is Jo. She’s really nice.”
“That’s great, sweetheart. Here’s your dad. He wants to say something.”
The phone audibly passed between them, then my dad’s voice filled my ear. “Hey, Pumpkin. You’re settling in okay?”
“Yes, Dad. Better than expected.”
“The offer still stands if you want me to come help you find an apartment.”
I did want them to come out and smooth my transition, but this was my life to create. “Thanks, Dad. Not right now.”
“Okay. Take care, Pumpkin. We love you. Here’s your mom.”
“Layla, don’t forget to call Max. He said he’s been trying to message you on Facebook.”
I groaned. I had a couple of different Facebook profiles but constantly forgot to log into the one my brother knew about. That was the one where I was still “friends” with Liam, an overly intense guy I’d dated in college. Anyway, I knew already why Max wanted to contact me.
“So, have they finally set a date?”
“Call him, Layla.”
My brother Max and his girlfriend had been best friends forever. Just like my parents before us. It was inevitable they’d get married sooner than later. I felt a pang of jealousy. Maybe if Liam hadn’t been so pushy, or maybe if I hadn’t found it easier to control relationships on the Internet, I might have had the courage to go to bars against my mom’s warnings. I might have met someone by now.
Impossible to know.
“I’ll call him later, Mom. I should be getting back to my hostess.”
“Call us again soon. We love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Once they hung up, I stared at the Chrome icon on my phone for a heartbeat. On any given night, I’d be Jonesing to read the boards, if for no other reason than to clear my Unread Posts notifications. Not tonight. I needed to interact with real humans. Jo was about as easy an introduction into the real world as any. She’d practically forced me to socialize.
I stood and took one long breath of the warm spring air. When I turned around to go in, I nearly dropped my phone from shock.
Chapter Three
Sitting at the kitchen island were three men I’d recognize anywhere. Closest to the door sat Micah Sinclair, lead singer for the band Theater of the Absurd, Jo’s hot-as-fuck boyfriend. On his right, the unmistakable red hair of his drummer whose name completely escaped me. My eyes were drawn immediately to the pretty-boy lead guitarist, Noah Kennedy. My heart tripped over itself.
A few years back, Theater of the Absurd went on tour, opening for Walking Disaster in Europe. That’s when fans started threads to discuss their music, learned their songs, and picked favorites among the band.
