Page 8 of Rescue

“I said I needed some air.” He slams the door behind him.

“Some air sounds good,” Dad mutters, rubbing his eyes. “Why don’t you all take fifteen and we’ll meet in the rehearsal space after.”

“Guess I better call Sam and tell her what we decided,” Cash says, stretching as he stands. I realize belatedly that Cash would have another reason to want to take a break before touring. His girlfriend, Sam, is in the middle of a year-long internship in Seattle. They won’t be seeing each other too much once we’re overseas.It’s a short tour, I tell myself, trying to push back the guilt.We’ll be home for Christmas.

“I’ll see you in there?” Reed asks, coming to stand in front of me.

“Yup.” But he doesn’t leave, just stands and looks at me until I start to feel uncomfortable.

“What?”

“You will talk to me, right? About, you know, how you’re feeling and stuff.”

I can’t help snorting. We might have three multiplatinum albums, but shit, our family sucks at communication. Especially when actual emotions are involved.

“Yes, Reed. I promise to talk to you about all of my feelings. We can have nightly gab sessions over cookies and milk.”

He smiles. “You better hope Paige doesn’t hear you say that if you want it to stay a joke.”

Since a nightly gab session over cookies and milk is exactly the kind of thing his girlfriend Paige would think is fun, I shudder. “Good point. See you in there.”

My dad’s cell rings as Reed leaves, and Levi turns to me. “Want to grab some coffee?”

I wave at Dad as we go, but he’s already consumed by whatever business is on the other end of the phone. “You were pretty quiet in there,” I say as Levi and I make our way down to the lobby in search of coffee.

My best friend shrugs. “It’s not really up to me. I go where you guys say.”

“Don’t be stupid. You have a say too. That’s why you come to band meetings, Levi. Plus you’re the tour manager now.”

He doesn’t respond, and a flash of annoyance runs through me. “You could have at least backed me up, then, if you have no opinion of your own.”

“Didn’t say I don’t have an opinion. Just said it wasn’t up to me.”

We’re steps away from the lobby and I can see the receptionist from here so I stop abruptly, not wanting to be overheard. “What, Levi? You agree with Daltrey?”

“Didn’t say that either.”

Everyone thinks that Levi’s easygoing nature is his best quality. They’re all crazy. He might keep his mouth shut about things and he might have a talent for smoothing over my and my brother’s violent tendencies, but Levi is no pushover.

“You obviously want to say something. Why don’t we just get it over with?”

He rubs the back of his neck absently, staring hard at the wall. “It was just a little bit like déjà vu, that’s all.”

“What was?”

“Listening to you in there. Talking about how you needed to be active. How the tour would help.” He finally looks over at me. “Pretty sure you fed me that same bullshit at the beginning of the summer.”

“What?”

“Before the last tour. When I told you I didn’t think it was a good idea to go out the way you were feeling. When you told me that your doctor thought it was a bad idea too. That was the excuse you gave me. That it would help you to keep busy.” His gaze is hard as he stares at me, and I suddenly feel like I can’t breathe very well. I have a vague recollection of saying that to him when he came to see me in Ohio all those months before. It feels like a lifetime ago.

The thing is, I meant those words when I said them then just as much as I mean them now. I did think that it would help me to have some work to focus on, something to get me out of my head. I was sure of it. Was I wrong then? Am I wrong now?

“The same exact words,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I believed you.” He turns away, begins to walk to the lobby. But then he pauses, barely turning his head over his shoulder. “Same words, Len. Just look at how that turned out.”