Page 9 of Promised Love

“Everything okay with her?”

I bite my lip. I’d planned to talk to my parents tomorrow morning, but…maybe now is as good a time as any.

“There’s a band playing tomorrow evening at Rendezvous, and her brother is getting tickets for the both of us, me and Chiara.”

“Why would he do that?”

I don’t understand why my mom sometimes deliberately acts difficult.

“Because I asked him. And before you ask why ‘I’ would do that…” I make air quotes, which she can’t see of course. “I want to go. All my friends will be there.”

“But that’s a bar, tums.” Confusion laces Dad’s voice.

Mom turns around in her seat. “What? It’s a bar?”

“The concert won’t take place inside the bar. They’ll put an open stage in the beer garden outside. The event is called ‘Under the Stars.’”

My parents don’t say anything, but they’re holding hands in that way, and I’m sure there’s some telepathic conversation going on between them.

“Okay, you can go,” Mom says after a few moments of silence.

I’m shocked for a second before I throw my arms around her seat, almost choking her. “I… I can’t believe you agreed. I thought I’d have to convince you some more. Let me tell Chiara.”

I’ve just taken my cell phone out of my jacket when Mom says, “Ask her to get two more tickets.”

“Two more? Why?” My throat dries and my nose wrinkles as I prepare myself for the worst.

“Dad and I will join you.” She rests her hand on Dad’s arm as I slump back.

“No way. I’m not going with you and Dad.”

“Why not, tums? We’re rad.” Dad stretches the word out for far too long.

“You just called yourself rad. No one even uses that word anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter. If you want to attend this concert, we’ll all go. If not, we can enjoy a nice family dinner at home.”

My head aches as I imagine my parents at the concert. It would be a nightmare with my mom, who just said “attending a concert” as if we’re going to a science convention, and my dad, who is apparently too rad.

“Forget it. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I fold my arms over my chest.

This time when my phone vibrates, I feel the vibration in my chest.

Chiara: They’re selling out, Auttie.

Autumn: Get one for me.

Chiara: You better have permission. Santi will kill us if you don’t show up tomorrow.

* * *

“Holy shit! This is epic.” My heart pounds at the sight of the huge crowd as Santino parks the car. Even through the closed window, I can hear the screaming crowd, the rapping on drums, and the strumming of a guitar.

Chiara nods furiously next to me in the back seat.

Santino chuckles, turning to face us. “It’s good, but definitely not epic. From what I’ve heard, we’ve missed some of the best performances.”

I shake my head, too excited to care for his comments. “I don’t care. I’m stoked that I’m here tonight. Finally!”

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