Page 106 of Resurrection
The woman thanks him and heads over to where the band is to check on her sons.
"Thank God," I mutter, rolling my eyes.
"She seems like a handful," Ty whispers.
"She is," I confirm, "But Kenny and Jamie are IVF babies. I can understand her concern." Pause. "Anyway, let’s get you a guitar. I think we have some extras in the music room."
"Ms. Medina?" another parent calls. "Any news about the Stone kid?"
I open my mouth, but Ty’s fingers graze my shoulder as he turns around and heads toward the parents.
"It's all under control, folks," I hear him say to the group.
I let myself breathe, just for a second, before diving back into the madness.
It's been almost an hour since I called Adri, and my head throbs in sync with the bass beat coming from the stage. It’s another dance routine, this time from the girls on the gymnastics team. We’ve already seen two magicians, three poetry reads, and a short play. We have plenty of acts tonight, which gives us some extra time to figure things out.
The kids from Phoenix Down shuffle nervously in the corner of the back room, the heat making tempers short and my shirt damp.
"What do we do?" Miranda asks, her voice a tight string.
I gather them close and say, "We have a plan B." It sounds more convincing than it feels.
"We're canceling, aren’t we?" Kenny mutters, kicking the floor with the tip of his boot.
"We're not canceling," I insist. "We're working it out." My gaze darts across the room, searching for Ty, who disappeared a little while ago with Mr. Brixton, the school’s music teacher.
What if he ditched us?
What if it’s below him to play covers in a teenage band?
He left before.
What’s stopping him now?
Parents and kids exchange sad looks that stab at my chest. The air is so thick with disappointment, you could cut it with a knife. I pull the clip out of my hair and redo it.
That's when I see Ty taking a selfie with a group of grown-ups on the other side of the room. He’s holding a beat-up electric guitar and grinning from ear to ear.
I wave at him.
He gives me a nod, excuses himself, and heads over.
"Tyler?" Jamie shouts excitedly.
"Are you plan B?" Miranda asks.
"Sick," Kenny chimes in.
"Hey, guys." His smile is bright and wide and too damn charming. "Yes, looks like I’m gonna have to step in for Asher."
Both the parents and the kids seem very happy with that solution.
Ty tunes the guitar as the kids watch, a doubtful half-circle that makes my heart flutter, makes it ache. I remember watching him the same way when we were both in high school. Watching him prepare for a show. That frown of concentration—it’s still the same. Time and age haven’t changed that about him.
The room’s a furnace of murmurs and restless bodies. The crowd’s like a pot about to boil.
Seemingly satisfied with the instrument, Ty runs a hand through his hair, looking awkward in a way I’ve never seen. Vulnerable even.
