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Rise (Rock God 1)

Page 11

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Dread flows through me as I snatch it out of her hand. “Don’t answer it.” Her horrified face should make me pull myself together, but I’m slightly off right now.

“Geez, Gia.” Julianna shakes her head at me as I frantically decline the call. I look at her and back at my phone before sinking down to sit on the edge of my bed.

I need to think. This might be nothing—just my mom wanting to tell me to be careful and that she’s excited for me.

“You okay? You’re starting to worry me.” Julianna’s big blue eyes show concern. I must look as bad as I feel. And I feel like I want to puke.

“I thought you said your mom was fine with you going on tour with them over winter break.” She cocks her head, and the kindness in her voice makes me want to cry because I’ve worked so hard, and if this phone call is what I think it is…

“I did.” I jump up and pace in our tiny dorm room, which is so limited on space that my giant suitcase takes up a big portion of the floor.

“Shit.” I make my brain think. Julianna was right. It’s a miracle I’ve pulled this off. It all boils down to the fact that both my photography and English professors are giant Stuffed Muffins fans. So much so that I was pretty much given a guaranteed A. All I have to do is an exclusive interview that my professor, Mr. Berry, can submit to Rolling Stone for me and provide some recent pictures, and it’ll probably put me on the map. Over the years, I’ve stayed in touch with Nuke, their drummer, and if his drunken phone calls complaining about how the band is not in sync are any indication, Rhys absolutely needs me. I mean, who else knows him like I do?

The time is now. I’m already late—this is the tail end of their tour.

Six weeks.

Six weeks to make Rhys realize what I have always known. That we’re soulmates. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t seen him in years. Or that he has become one of the biggest stars in the world. What matters is us. He needs me. It’s why I’m so determined to get out of here. They’re playing tonight in Seattle. Nuke was a bit fuzzy on how long they were staying.

My phone starts singing again and I take a deep breath. Might as well deal with it because I’m absolutely going to do this.

Exhaling, I toss my hair off my left shoulder. “Hey, Mom, what’s up? I’m super busy, so if it’s not an emergency, I really need—”

“Gia, you need to stop and listen to me,” my mom yells through the phone, halting my rant. Damn it, I had hoped I could talk right over her.

“You need to call your brother.” And those are the last words I ever want to hear out of my mom’s mouth.

“Why?” I almost explode at her. Why the hell did she tell him?

“He’s not happy,” she says flatly.

I huff. “Axel’s never happy.” Taking a deep breath, it’s hard not to go off on my mom, but I hold back. I glance over at Julianna who sits at the end of her bed looking like a Disney princess, except for her gross and annoying habit of picking her nail polish off. I almost swat her hand, but I need to focus.

“Look, sweetheart, I know this is through the university, but Axel has some concerns.”

I go to open my mouth but she continues. “Call him. You know he’s only looking out for you. If he says yes, then by all means go, and do the best job in the world.” She says the last part as if she’s on a talk show. She’s so phony and completely see-through. God, I can’t believe I felt guilty because technically this has nothing to do with Berkeley. But now I don’t. Of course, she’s trying to make Axel happy. That’s what everyone does. It’s all about not upsetting Axel.

Pathetic.

All but me—screw that. He’s my brother but I can see his flaws. I take another deep breath.

“Fine.” I huff. “I’ll call Mitchell, but just for the record, I’m eighteen, so I don’t need permission from either of you.”

The line goes silent. “Hello?”

“I’m here.” Her voice is loud and clear. “Call your brother, young lady, if you want to continue using your credit card.” And then the line really does go dead.

“Goddammit.” I toss my phone on the pillow. “Goddammit.” I jump up and pace.

“What?” Julianna tries to follow, her blond hair slapping me in the face as I turn quickly.

Sighing, I look up at the dull white ceiling. “I have to call freakin’ Mitchell.” I clench and unclench my hands.

“Who’s Mitchell?” Julianna’s voice goes up. She gets flustered easily.



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