Page 12 of Bonding the Band

“You know Daddy Gary won’t go for that.” Arlo grimaced. “That man would prefer we work ourselves into an early grave—at least that way he can sell our stuff posthumously.”

“What do you think?” I asked Phin, who had lowered himself into a beanbag chair, twirling a drumstick in his hand.

“I know we said we were going to wait until after the tour to get him help, but he’s going downhill fast.”

“Are we sure it’s even the drugs?” Arlo asked, crossing his arms.

“I mean, what else could it be? Surely if it was food poisoning, it wouldn’t have lasted this long. He hasn’t been right in weeks.”

Arlo chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Is it a super-strong STI? I know he claims to always wrap it up, but I don’t have the greatest faith in him. If I took as many drugs as he does, I wouldn’t be able to see straight, let alone put a condom on.”

“Can STIs do that?” I asked.

“Syphilis can infect the brain and make a person act all screwy,” Arlo declared.

“So how do we help him?” Phin asked quietly.

“I guess the first thing would be to start easing him off that crap, maybe cut that shit down a bit, so he’s not constantly high.”

Arlo let out a low whistle. “Are you going to be the one to tell him that? Because I love the guy, but he will punch me if I so much as suggest he slows down on having fun.”

“He wouldn’t have had access to the same stuff in Asia,” I reminded them. “Maybe the switch to whatever he was getting there fucked him up more than usual?”

“Definite possibility. I can probably goad him into going to the gym again,” Phin said. “I’ll tell him the fans have beencomparing our bodies and decided that his was nowhere near as good as mine.”

I snorted. Vanity would get him running on the treadmill, and maybe then he could sweat some of the drugs out of his system.

“I can make sure the bus is stocked with fruit and green juice and shit.” Arlo beamed. “With how often we’re on the move, it’s hard to get takeout, so he’llhaveto eat the healthy crap we give him.”

I nodded, a plan forming. As much as Hendrix’s behavior got on my nerves, he was still one of my best friends, and I owed it to him not to give up on him yet.

Operation Healthy Hendrix was a go.

Chapter 6

Meadow

Past me was an idiot.

For many reasons. Mainly for staying up late with Clover, crying about potentially being pregnant, but also for sleeping with the stupidly hot rock star who caused my predicament in the first place.

When my alarm went off at seven in the morning for my classes, I just barely resisted the urge to throw my alarm clock out the window.

I hit snooze and was starting to drift off again when the smell of something delicious hit my nose. The entire apartment smelled like a breakfast buffet. Even in my sleep-addled state, I could tell there was bacon.

I fuckinglovedbacon.

I rolled out of bed and rubbed my eyes as I padded to the kitchen.

Clover stood, stirring something in a frying pan. Despite the early hour, she was already dressed in her favorite jeans and sweater, her hair in a tidy low bun, and her makeup impeccably done as always.

“What are you doing up so early?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep. “I thought you didn’t have classes until the afternoon today.”

“Morning!” she said, turning to me with a smile. “I don’t, and I know for a fact that you can afford to miss this morning’s class because you’re way ahead with the reading material. So I decided that today is the perfect time to finally go get you your blood test.”

“Clover!” I groaned.

She glared at me. “Don’t groan at me. You took that pregnancy test three days ago, and you haven’t booked a single doctor’s appointment yet. You need to get a blood test to confirm it. You also need prenatal care.”

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