Page 44 of Playing the Backbeat

“No, I don’t, and Ican’tleave yet. They haven’t played my favorite song and I’ll die if I miss it. I’ll pass away right here and you’ll have to explain to my mom why you did that to me,” Emi yells back.

Gee. Wonder where Emi gets it.

“Well, I can’t wait any longer, so we need to go now,” Dee says, eyeing the line at the bathroom across the venue.

“Can’t Dylan watch me while you go? We’ll stay right here,” she pleads, hugging Dee tightly around the waist.

Dee looks at me skeptically and I nod. “We’ll be fine.” She eyes me, unconvinced. “We’ll wait right here until you get back.”

“You sure? Because if anything bad happens to my niece in the five minutes I’m gone, not only do you have to deal with me, but you’ll have to deal with my cousin and her husband. And if you think I’m scary, you just wait.”

“This may shock you, but I’m actually a pretty responsible guy. We’ll be fine.”

She considers me for another moment before turning to Emi. “I’ll be right back. Listen to everything Dylan says, do not get separated, and do not move from this spot. Understood?”

Emi beams, having gotten her way. She salutes Dee, who nods and turns, making her way toward the restrooms.

Emi stands to my right, and as the song winds down, she starts jumping up and down again, eagerly awaiting her favorite song.

The lead singer talks to the crowd a bit, but I’m not really paying attention as I watch Dee, making sure she gets to the other side of the hall without any issue.

My heart stops when the band starts up for the next song, and Emi—along with hundreds of other young kids—all start screaming at the top of their lungs.

“Oh my god! It’s happening! I’m so happy, I’m going to cry!” Emi is on the verge of tears. She shakes her head, smiles—something dangerously close to one of Dee’s grins—then she begins dancing.

I barely step back in time to avoid a kick to the shin as she flings herself around with unrestrained delight and enthusiasm. I recognize the moves she’s emulating as the ones she and Dee danced together earlier, and a thread of affection for Dee pulls taut at my heart. I’ve never considered having kids of my own, but watching Dee support her niece has me envisioning what it’d be like to someday be a parent myself. Since I’ve moved in with Dee, a million seemingly small moments continue to add up, forcing me to see her in a new light. And she fucking shines at every turn. I rub at the ache growing in my chest.

Suddenly, Emi falters in her dance as she eyes a group of girls her age that I don’t recognize. As if she were struck, Emi stops dancing, returning to my side to watch the band perform. No more dancing. She’s not even singing.

All at once, the life drained out of her, and now she’s as still as a statue.

“Hey, uh, Emi? What happened there? Don’t you want to dance?”

“No.”

Fuck. What the hell is going on?

“I thought this was your favorite song.”

“It is, but I’m tired.”

I’d be exhausted as fuck after dancing the way she and Dee have been all night, but I seriously doubt that’s what’s happening right now.

“Can we just go?” she asks. “Let’s find Aunt Dee and go home. I’m done.”

The girls start pointing at Emi and me from across the crowd. One girl sneers and laughs.

What. The. Fucking. Fuck.

“Emi, are those girls making you feel uncomfortable?”

She mumbles something too softly for me to hear.

“Say that again for me, would you?” I kneel, unable to hear her soft-spoken words at my height and over the loud music.

“They’re in my class,” she says a little louder, fiddling her hands in front of her and looking anywhere but at the girls from school or me. “They don’t…they don’t like me.”

Fucking rip my heart out. This kid is so sweet, so kind, so funny. Why the hell would these kids tell her they don’t like her?