Page 9 of Rescue

Chapter Three

Haylee

With only a few minutes left before our big audition, my bandmates and I are doing what we do best—snacking, drinking beer, and ragging on each other.

“Haylee, stop hogging all the Doritos.”

“What’d you say?” I ask, grabbing another handful. “You want me to eatallthe Doritos? You’re so sweet.”

James glares at me, and I grin, shoving a few more chips in my mouth before passing the bag off to him. “Thank you,” he says, voice heavy with sarcasm. “You do realize your teeth have turned bright orange, right? Minutes before the biggest audition of your life.”

I roll my eyes, adjusting the pillow behind my head. “You sound just like Louis.”

“Ooh, James,” Dylan says, pushing my feet to the side so he can join me on the couch. “She compared you toLouis. Need some lotion for that wicked burn?”

James grunts something inaudible and tosses a few chips in my direction. “Hey!” Dylan complains, brushing Dorito crumbs from his sleeve. “Watch it, man.”

“Who’s talking about the biggest audition of our lives?” Lance asks from the doorway.

“James is shaming me about having Dorito breath before the amazing Ransome brothers show up,” I say. Lance rolls his eyes and flops down on the rug in front of the couch.

“Anyone else think this is stupid?” he asks. “The whole pseudo-rehearsal-audition bullshit?”

Dylan shrugs. “I don’t know. Louis might actually have a point this time.”

“Boo!” Lance and I shout in unison. There’s a strict band rule forbidding agreeing with our manager about anything, even on those rare occasions when he happens to be right.

Dylan holds up his hands. “I’m just saying. If the band wants to sign off on the label’s decision to bring us in as the opener, that probably means they want to hear us.”

“Then they should have asked us straight up to audition,” Lance says. “But they didn’t. They asked for a meeting. This whole scheduling it in the middle of rehearsal so they would just happen to hear us is one of Louis’s lame ideas.” He nudges my knee. “I know you agree, Hay.”

I shrug. “It feels pretty contrived. But what are we gonna do? I, for one, am not in the mood to go eight rounds with Lou today.”

Dylan peers at my face. “You do look a little rough, babe.”

I glare at him. “Thanks. Between you and James I’m definitely feeling confident enough to sing in front of the biggest rock band in the country.”

“Told you to lay off the Doritos,” James says.

“Don’t worry, Hay,” Lance says, grinning up at me. “Cash Ransome was pretty into you the last time we saw them. Just bat your eyes a little.” He squints at my chest. “Maybe lose the flannel so he can get a glimpse of the girls.”

I grab the pillow from behind my head and throw it at him. “Fuck off, Lance.”

He laughs, catching the pillow easily and tossing it behind his own head. “Thanks, babe.”

“Obviously if someone is going to be slutty to get their attention, it’s going to be Layla,” James says, peeking across the room at our sleeping drummer. How she can sleep with our asshole bandmates in the room is beyond me. These boys never shut up.

“I heard that,” she says, not opening her eyes.

“Notice she doesn’t say I’m wrong,” James says in a loud stage whisper.

“No one is going to be slutty to get their attention,” I say firmly, pulling myself up into a seated position. Not much point lounging now that I’ve lost my pillow. “We’re just going to play our songs and be polite at the meeting.”

Of course Dylan chooses that moment to burp loudly.

“Sometimes I think Louis is right,” I say. “You’re all hopeless.”

“As opposed to you, Haylee,” James says, rolling his eyes. “The queen of class and refinement. Who just so happens to have challenged me to a farting contest the other day.”