Page 18 of For One Night Only

“Today was rough. You doing okay?” she asks.

“I…may be a little on edge with all the pressure of this show,” I say, sighing.

She nods, leaning against the doorframe. “I can tell.”

I bite my lip as the shame washes over me. “I thought things would feel the same as soon as we picked up our instruments. Instead, everything is such a disaster.”

“It just might take a few days to get back into the swing of things,” she says, too kindly. Jane was always the best of us. Honestly, in the few years we were making music, I felt more cared for by her than I ever was by my mom. Jane kept us hydrated, mediated arguments between me and, well…everyone else, and always just assumed the best in me.

Even when my best was lacking. Like today.

I grimace. “Thank you, but I know I fucked everything up.”

She does me the courtesy of holding back a response. “Well, I have something that might make you feel better.” She digs into the sack. “I went to grab snacks last night before you got out here, and I couldn’t resist picking up a bottle.”

In her hand is a container of Pink Crush, the shade I used to dye my hair back in the day. Even when we could afford a stylist, Istill used the cheap stuff because I liked being able to touch it up constantly. I can’t help it—I grin at her through watery eyes, and it’s the first real smile I’ve had all day.

God bless Jane Mercer for just existing in this world like the angel she is.

My blond hair is already platinum, so it won’t take much prep. This could be the first normal thing that’s happened all weekend. Whatever stylist we end up hiring will bemoan my choice of drugstore dye, but at least it’s vegan. Can’t do too much damage.

“Thank you—seriously,” I say, hugging the bottle to my chest.

“When I bought it, I wasn’t sure if I was going to give it to you or not. But after this afternoon…well, I thought it might help if you feel more like the old Valerie,” she says. “You’re welcome to use my shower. It scrubs clean easily.”

Jane has given me an out for the solitary evening I thought I wanted, and I’m grateful—but then I recognize an opportunity to mend another fence. Caleb and I were thick as thieves and used to tell each other everything, but I had special relationships with each of the others too. In Jane’s case, I used to go to her for the advice I could never get from my family, and she used to vent to me in private when her parents were being too much.

And Jane may not be outwardly upset with me like the others, but we’ve grown apart and it makes my heart ache. Iwantto be her friend again.

“Want to help me?” I ask, gesturing with the bottle. “Like old times?” Jane was always the one who was patient enough to help me keep my head pink, and we spent long afternoons with hair dye and nail polish in hotel bathrooms. “You know I suck at getting the back.”

Jane grins. “Yeah, I’d love to help. I’ll go make us some lattes first?”

“Perfect.”

6

Caleb

Riker’s superpower is finding a hidden gem in every neighborhood. He used to make it a challenge when we were touring from city to city, and he’s clearly held on to the magic.

Twenty minutes online, and we’re heading to karaoke a solid walk from Jane’s house. Keeley wouldn’t allow me out of the house in my usual summer uniform of a T-shirt and shorts, so I’ve changed into a different T-shirt and faded black jeans, which is about the best I can do at the moment.

At least I’m comfortable on the breezy two-mile walk.

Most of my stage wardrobe is gone, but the others have that effortless rock star look down. Riker’s wearing a muscle tank and pale jeans with a flannel tied around his waist, and Keeley changed into a cropped Pearl T-shirt, a denim jacket, and ripped white shorts that make her look even taller. Between my two towering friends, I’m sure I look like a hobbit, but being on the shorter side never bothered me.

We’re quiet at first as we walk, but quickly default to the worst kind of small talk.

“Siren Karaoke Bar—don’t they know sirens sing sailors to their deaths?” Keeley says, gesturing at the sign. “It’s kind of a weird metaphor.”

She’s acting a little too normal after what went down in practice, but I don’t say anything about it. We all know Keeley doesn’t stay mad for long. And, well, Valerie was kind of being awful to her. I wish I knew how to fix it.

I blink. That’s not my job anymore.

With a sigh, I follow the others inside the shabby-looking bar, which is surprisingly bright and eclectic within. The place really plays up the theme, making it look more like a seafood joint than a karaoke bar.There are kitschy seashells and anchors in all the decor, and the stage has an under-the-sea backdrop. There’s even a silhouette of a mermaid on the rocks on one of the walls.

Total tourist trap.

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