Page 48 of The First Time
"Yeah." I don't like thinking about it.
"But you must have a lot to say after two months on the road. That must be different. And now you're going to be home, in your apartment alone for two weeks. Have you ever done that sober?"
"Piper."
"Yeah?" She squeezes the steering wheel.
"You're a good friend."
"Oh." The joy drops off her face. She shakes it off and looks back to me with a smile. There's something in her eyes. She's figured something out. "I mean, thanks. You are too."
"But I'm still not talking about this."
She nods. "Yeah, right, of course."
She shifts her hips, her knees, her shoulders. But it's not the beat this time. She's sitting on something she wants to say.
I can see it in her blue eyes. She's practically screaminga good friend? Is that all?
"I don't talk to a lot of people either," she says. "But I do talk to you. I trust you. And I really do value our friendship." She says the word with care and intention, like she's making a point of reminding me she knows we're only friends. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. You can always call."
I nod. "That's a sweet offer, thanks."
"I mean it." Her blue eyes bore into mine. "If you ever really need to talk to someone... like if you're ever thinking about using, not that you're not doing well, just that kind of thing happens."
"It does."
"Well, promise you'll call me if you really need to talk to someone." She looks back to the road but her voice stays demanding. "Promise you'll call before you do anything stupid."
Stupid is a broad category, one that might include promising this kind of intimacy with her, but I know what she means.
Does my well-being mean that much to her?
"Kit." She looks back to me. "Promise, so I don't have to keep looking at you instead of the road."
I don't want to promise anything unless I mean it. I turn over the thought for a moment. It's a good idea, havingsomeoneto call.
That person being Piper... not as much.
But I want it to be her. "I promise."
She smiles and turns back to the road. Slowly, her attention shifts to her driving. Then to the music.
When I turn up the music, it only takes one verse for her to drift back to singing.
My thoughts stay stuck to her words. It's been two months on the road. It's been weird. Used to be, I went out every night with Ethan or Joel. We'd drink until we were ready to drop. Or we'd pick up women and part ways.
The last two months, I've spent nearly every night at a show or alone, in my hotel room. Occasionally, Miles, the Sinful Serenade lead singer, made some excuse to hang out. Mostly, we'd watch movies, read, and gossip about all the other guys in the band.
Tours are always weird and isolating, but this was different. It wasn't just my old friends and family I couldn't see. When we were on stage, everything was normal. But after, I didn't feel like a part of the band.
I'm lost in thought. I barely notice the car turning off.
Piper pulls the keys from the ignition and sets her hands in her lap.
She turns to me. "Is my singing really that awful?"
I chuckle. "No, it's soothing."
