Page 24 of Lance

Lance

I’m glad that our schedule is so busy in the days following the party. It’s easy to get caught up in work, to put on a big shiny smile for the interviewers, to fill the days with practicing and performing, even if my wrists and fingers are physically aching from banging my hands against the keys of thepiano.

Being busy means being tired. And being tired means I’m not thinking too much. Too much abouther.

I’m sitting with Dylan in our practice space, trying to get a handle on the bridge of the song I’ve been working on before the others arrive for rehearsal, when my phone dings for what feels like the hundredthtime.

“Dude, you have got to do something about your phone,” Dylan says, tossing a guitar pick atme.

“It’s not my fault,” I snap back, looking down at the screen. I want to yell when I see the name. Can this girl not take a hint? I jab at the declinebutton.

“Sure it’s not,” Dylan says. “How about you stop giving your phone number to so manyrandos?”

“It’s not a rando. It’sAngie.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Still? Hasn’t she been calling you for the last weeknow?”

More like three. But I don’t say it out loud. “She won’tstop.”

He narrows his eyes a little, watching my face, and I shift, uncomfortable. Dylan is way too good at reading people and I really don’t need him in my head right now. “This why you’ve been acting so emo the last couple days?” he asks. “You’re stressing aboutAngie?”

Sure. Angie is the girl I’ve been stressing about. Let’s go with that. At least it’s less complicated than the actual truth. “I just wish she would back off,” I tellhim.

“Have you tried, you know, answering it? I get not wanting to talk to her, but sometimes you have to man up anddeal.”

I glare at him. “Of course I’ve answered it. She refuses to tell me what she wants, just keeps saying that she needs to see me inperson.”

“Are you going to? See her, Imean.”

I sigh. “I might have to, at this point. I mean, she won’t leave me the hellalone.”

He seems to mull that over. “I don’t know, man. She seems a little nuts to me. Might want to avoidthat.”

“You’re incredibly helpful, Dylan, have I told youthat?”

He tosses another pick. “You’re the one who wanted to work on the new song before the others get here. Not my fault you won’t turn off yourphone.”

“I can’t just turn it off. My mom is supposed to call—” I begin, but Dylan cuts meoff.

“Your mom?” he asks, face lighting up. “Is Jackie coming outhere?”

“I’m trying to convince her. I told her I’d put her up in a hotel but she says she doesn’t want me to spend the money.” I roll my eyes. “You’d think she’d be happy I can afford to do something for her for achange.”

“I hope she comes,” he says, his voice wistful. “I miss her potroast.”

“If she comes out, it won’t be to cook for you,” I tell him. “I want her to have an actual vacation, not spend her time looking after a bunch of assholes likeus.”

“Who you calling an asshole?” Layla asks, appearing in the doorway. Great. So much for getting that bridge down beforerehearsal.

“Lance’s mom might come out,” Dylan tellsher.

“Jackie?” Layla asks, her expression brightening as much as Dylan’s. “I haven’t seen Jackie in ages! How is she? Do you think we could get her to make us a roast while she’shere?”

“Who’s making a roast?” Haylee asks, joiningus.

“Jackie might be coming out,” Layla tellsher.

“I love Jackie!” Haylee sayshappily.