Page 21 of Rebel

I won’t admit it’s a little fun. “There’s a part on the chorus where it goes, ‘Calling me crazy just like a snitch . . .’” I hesitate. “I think we should change it to bitch because it fits better.”

“Sure.” Chase shrugs. “Kolton wrote this one anyway, so it’s all you.”

“Fine with me,” Kolton replies. “I could never get that part just right anyway. Let’s try it.”

We do, over and over, until I can move around the mic as I sing, watching the guys perform. It’s magic, and when it’s over, they are happy.

“Okay, next song,” Chase murmurs as I groan. “How about we work on the big number, ‘Sticks & Stones?’ It’s going to be the hardest, so we may as well get started now.”

I nod reluctantly. He’s right, and the first run through is terrible. It’s the hardest song for sure and the one I’m most uncertain about. Chase and I end up arguing after the third try, and Trav and Kolton get involved until we call time out.

We keep trying, though, and it ends up sounding less horrendous, but I’m glad we have time to practice before the tour—shit, there I go, thinking I’ll be there then. Hopefully, I won’t, right?

By the end of the day, my throat aches and my entire body hurts—I don’t even know why.

I’m sitting in the living room when a mug is thrust at me. “Here,” Chase snaps.

I take it. “What is it? Poison?”

“If I wanted to kill you, pretty girl, poison wouldn’t be my style. Honey tea to help your throat,” he mutters. “It helps with mine, plus we need you in top form, not sounding like a dude.”

What an ass.

I glance down at the mug and smile.

THIRTEEN

For the next few days, we work on the tour list from sunrise to sunset. We have to tweak some things, so I’m glad we practice, but with her singing, it works well. She’s so talented and has a good idea for things that would trip us up. The atmosphere is tense, though, and everyone is tired. Chase is particularly grumpy.

“Again,” he snaps. “Stop fucking getting it wrong. Are you dumb?”

“Stop being an asshole for two seconds and let me work it out and I won’t get it wrong,” she argues.

“We don’t have time to hold your fucking hand. Either get it or leave.” He gets in her face, and I jump up.

She squares up. “You need to shut your fucking hole for two seconds or help,” she hisses.

Sighing, I put my arm between them. “Take a break,” I tell them both. “Get some fresh air, and we’ll try again. We have time,” I remind Chase, “and we will get this.”

“Stop being on her side just because you want in her pants, man,” Chase growls. “She’s not going to get it?—”

“Stop,” I bark. “You’re being an asshole. Take a walk.”

Nostrils flaring, he stomps off as Kolton sighs. “I’ll go after him.”

I nod and then turn to Beck. “Ignore him. We’ll get this, okay? Just have a drink and relax. I’ll go after them and make sure he’s not killing Kolt.”

I jog after them, and once we’re outside and out of view, I slam Chase to the ground.

His eyes widen as he struggles to his feet, kicking me back. “What the fuck, man?” he shouts, dusting off his shirt. “This is ridiculous.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Stop with the attitude, and stop giving her shit. She’s helping us and trying her best. You’re being an asshole for no reason.”

“Here we go again, on her side?—”

“No, I’m just not on yours,” I argue. “Get your shit together, Chase, because right now, she’s being a better team player than you, and we don’t have time for this. If you want us to succeed, then you have to learn to work together.”

“He’s right,” Kolton says calmly. “She’s trying, Chase. Why are you so annoyed?”

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