My stomach growled, reminding me that I’d been too stubborn to come out last night to eat. Rich, Houston, and Loren had even knocked on my door twice each to ask if I was hungry.
So nice of them to be concerned when they thought it was too late.
As I wandered down East Seventy-Sixth and cut across Fifth Ave toward Central Park, I set my mind on deciding what I’d do once the tour was over. My advance had been generous, with more to come once the tour’s profits were divvied and distributed. I knew I wouldn’t get nearly as much as the guys, but I hoped I’d at least bank enough to buy a crappy house in a questionable neighborhood.
What more could an average girl with no real ambition ask for?
I only needed to decide if Los Angeles was the endgame. Wherever I chose to go, I had to make sure it was somewhere my parents would never step foot in.
I hated that Portland was the only city that came to mind. My parents did say it was much too liberal, but they weren’t why I thought of it.
I had no clue if Portland is where Bound still lived or if that house in Beverley Hills belonged to them. I only knew that it was home. Calvin, who they never mentioned, was the only one who hadn’t grown up there.
I knew there was no correct way to grieve, but my gut told me they didn’t mourn him—only his guitar skills.
Under Bound’s tutelage, mine have certainly grown. Houston hadn’t corrected my methods or complained about my mistakes since our show in Denver. I just assumed he’d been too angry to deign even ripping me apart like usual.
I should have been accustomed to complicated, but the Powerpuff Girls were tossing out everything I thought I knew of the meaning.
It was still too early for joggers and dog-walkers, so I walked for five minutes, passing a small playground and seeing no one until I came across an amazing bronze statue of a little girl perched on top of a giant mushroom surrounded by woodland creatures. It was Alice in Wonderland with the Mad Hatter looking on, the White Rabbit checking his pocket watch, and a dormouse eating something at her feet.
Digging out my phone, I snapped a selfie with the Mad Hatter and then the White Rabbit. I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk slipping and falling if I climbed the mushroom for Alice.
Sorry, Alice.
I walked for another ten minutes passing a boathouse before I stumbled upon a miniature castle next to a pond that wouldn’t open for a few hours. If I hadn’t been too early, I would have dipped inside, but it wouldn’t have been for the panoramic views.
I had less chance of being found if I were undercover.
Even though I’d left Houston, Loren, and Jericho sound asleep in their beds, I felt like a kid skipping school and avoiding all the places my parents or someone who knows them might show up. A few more hours and the park would fill up since it was summer, and parents were looking to keep their kids entertained until they wore themselves out.
Smiling as an idea formed, I took a selfie and smiled into the camera while biting the tip of my finger. I made sure not to show too much of the stone and brick castle in the background. It was dark, so my flash still came in handy. Once I was satisfied nothing else gave my location away, I opened the texting app. After unblocking Loren, I started a new thread, and typed a message. I already knew they liked group chats.
I decided to take a walk. Find me before sunrise, and I’ll grant five minutes of my undivided attention.
Attaching the photos I’d taken, including my selfies with the Mad Hatter and White Rabbit, I hit send and pocketed my phone. I figured I had about a twenty-minute head start.“Stop playing, girl. You know I like it when you do that.”
Smiling, I was just getting to the good part of my dream when my eyes drifted open for some reason.
I jumped and screamed like a bitch at the sight of Houston standing over me with no expression whatsoever.
“What the hell are you doing?” I shouted at him. I’d even startled Rich awake. Weirded the hell out, I clutched the covers to my chest. I couldn’t tell if Houston had been about to stab me or rape me. Rich creeped us both out plenty whenever he had trouble sleeping. Thankfully, it’s been a while since he had an episode.
I’d been a sphincter’s hair from having a wet dream, and strangely, I was okay with that—as long as Braxton was playing a starring role.
“You were talking in your sleep,” Houston announced.
“So you decided to stand over me like you’re Michael fucking Myers?”