Leaving Amarillo(19)
“Thanks for the ride, fellas,” I call out as I hop down out of the van. My right ankle stings a little from the harsh impact but I don’t have time to process the pain.
“Have a great show tonight,” Afton calls out.
I’ve only made it a few steps when I glance up and see Dallas and Gavin both glaring at me from onstage.
I offer them each an apologetic smile and a small wave as I make my way to the stairs.
“Hey, opening act,” someone calls out from behind me. “You forgot this.”
Turning around, I see Afton holding my hat and grinning.
“Thanks.” I reach for it but he pulls it back. “Have dinner with me.”
“Um, what? You know I have sound check.”
My back is searing with what I know will be my brother’s infuriated glare.
“After the show, crazy girl. Have dinner with me after the show.”
He’s holding my hat just slightly out of my reach. Normally being taunted would piss me off. But somehow Afton Tate manages to be sweet about it. He’s watching me with this nervous hopeful expression and I’m too busy dreading facing my brother to think about what his invitation really is.
“I’ll think about it, okay? Kind of depends on whether or not my brother maims me for being late. The longer I stand here the more likely it is that I’ll be on a Missing poster soon.”
Afton grins and sets my hat sideways on my head. “Okay then. Since it’s life and death and all. But find me after the show, okay?”
I nod, annoyed that I’m not more excited. He’s Afton freaking Tate. Where are the butterflies, the flippy stomach? There isn’t a teenage girl or her mom alive who doesn’t drool all over him and his band. Instead I just feel flattered by the invitation and grateful for the ride.
Walking the death march up to the stage, where I’m sure Dallas is about to berate me, I ignore the reason I’m not jumping at the chance to go to dinner with Afton. The same way that reason ignored me earlier in rehearsal.
“Dallas, I’m sorry. I overslept. I set two alarms like you said and—”
“Just play, Dixie. I really don’t want to hear it right now.”
We play a few songs to warm up and make sure the acoustics are where we want them, and I am proving myself with every rake of my bow across the strings. Gavin breaks a drumstick at one point, glaring at me as if suddenly punctuality is so important to him as well. Neither of them even looks at me through sound check and as soon as it’s over, I make one last attempt at begging for my brother’s forgiveness.
“I screwed up. It won’t happen again.”
Dallas tells one of the MusicFest crew members that we’re good to go and then whirls on me. “What were you doing with Afton Tate? I thought you were taking a nap, not gallivanting with—”
“Did you just seriously say gallivanting? I did take a nap, D. I was literally running out of the hotel and ran into him and he offered me a ride.”
“So you just hopped into a van with a bunch of dudes, Dixie? What the hell? I thought you were smarter than that.”
Shoving my bow into my case, I shake my head. “Just go ahead and say it. I’m irresponsible and immature. And you’d much rather I stay in college and tucked safely into an orchestra pit instead of being on the road with you.”
He recoils at my accusation. “Dixie, I didn’t mean—”
“No, you know what? I’m a big girl. I made a mistake. Hell, I’ve been making a lot of mistakes lately.” My eyes shoot to Gavin, who’s watching me warily from behind his kit. “But I’ve apologized, and frankly, I’m a human being. I’m not perfect. But I’m also an adult and a person who deserves the benefit of the doubt. All I can do is say I’m sorry and move on. If you can’t, then that’s you’re problem.”
Clutching Oz, I turn my back on them. I’m frustrated in more ways than I can count and unable to really do much about anything. Gavin doesn’t want me, not like I want him, Dallas doesn’t want me on the road, which is the only place where I feel truly at home, and a seriously talented musician just asked me out and I can’t force myself to care.
“Dixie Leigh. That’s not what I meant. I was just—”
I cut my brother off with a wave of my hand and start moving. I have to distance myself from both of them now.
The cracks that have been forming for years are widening beneath the surface. I feel each and every one of them. I’ve tried so hard for so long to keep it together. My whole life I’ve tried. Tried to accept my life as it is, to not complain, or live beyond my means, or want for more than I deserve. Tried not to let my welling ocean of grief from losing my parents overflow onto anyone else. I’ve tried to be what Dallas and Gavin needed, tried not to be any trouble as a kid and not upset grandparents who shouldn’t have had to raise children in their golden years, tried my absolute damnedest to smother the fiery flames of desire that flare anytime Gavin so much as looks at me.
But doing all of that, holding everything back, has made a mess inside me, left me twisted up and hurting.
Holding my heart in check while I was in Houston was almost easy compared to this. Maybe that’s why the thought of touring with the band seemed so appealing—why I never imagined there could be a downside. Knowing it will include a front-row seat to Gavin’s parade of groupie conquests is like multiplying how I felt when he flirted with the waitress in front of me by infinity.