Page 105 of Resurrection
Instead, I tell him, "You didn’t have to be here."
"I don’t mind, really," he supplies, his tone a bit more serious. "It wouldn’t make sense for me to attend all the rehearsal sessions and not show up for the actual event."
"We both know you’re not a fan of this school or socializing with former classmates." I lower my voice. "God forbid they the ask you for some tickets."
"That’s the worst nightmare of every musician." He smirks at me, but it’s clear we both aren’t saying what we want to say—the elephant in the room. The night we spent together and my sleeping in his parents’ house and him asking me out.
"Anyway," I change the topic because a brilliant idea has just flashed through my mind. "Let’s forget about your fear of the past and concentrate on the present. I have a problem, and you can help me fix it."
"Oh?"
I explain about Asher, my voice low so the kids won't hear the panic creeping in. "I'm trying not to freak out, but…you know."
"Can't you call your brother?" Ty asks.
"Already did," I say. "Adri's checking on them now." I shake my head,trying to clear the haze of agitation. "But he wasn’t at the dressed rehearsal yesterday, remember? And Miranda hasn’t spoken to him today either. You might need to help me with the crowd. Buy me some time until I know what's happening."
"And if the kid’s a no-show?" Ty’s face grows a little worried too.
"Well, I sure hope he’ll turn up. He worked so hard. I’d hate for him to miss this chance, but there are three other kids in that band. It wouldn’t be fair to them."
"What are you saying?"
"You’ll step in, right?" I bat my lashes at him like I’m in seventh grade and have barely learned how to flirt.
"You’re not kidding?" he says, horror on his face.
"I’m not." I shake my head. "This is very serious."
"More serious than my ego?"
"You can’t compete with teenage disappointment, Ty."
He sucks in a lungful of air through his teeth and glances around to evaluate the crowd. People are eyeing him, and it seems like he’s not comfortable with it.
I take a step forward to close a bit of distance between us. It’s just shy of inappropriate now. "If you want to make it up to me, Ty," I whisper. "This is the right path."
He looks at me, really looks at me, then chuckles softly. "You always knew what buttons to press, Nomes."
Somewhere on stage, there’s a familiar tune blasting—I recognize the music that accompanies the dance routine the cheerleading team has been preparing.
"Ms. Medina?" the twins’ mother shouts exasperatedly, approaching us. "I hear Asher hasn’t shown up yet."
"Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to get a hold of him," I explain calmly.
She shifts her attention to Ty, and her expression morphs into something else, almost like a light bulb got turned on. "Aren’t you Tyler Brady?" the woman asks. "My sons love your work."
Clearly, the woman didn’t see Ty’s attack on Lachlan at the art show.
Ty politely shakes her hand and thanks her for the support. It’s all very nice but very clinical since he’s used to strangers talking to him in public.
"I knew that kid was trouble," the woman grumbles under her breath once the exchange of niceties is over. She turns to me again. "They worked so hard. It’s not fair that their performance is ruined because someone can’t commit."
"Don’t worry, ma’am," Ty reassures her. "Naomi always has a solution."
"Where on earth are you going to find another guitar player on such short notice?" the woman whines.
"We got it." Ty smiles at her and then motions to the teens gathered in acircle across the room. "Why don’t we go see if they need anything while we’re working on fixing the problem."
