Page 16 of Ten Hours

I ignore the way the sound makes my pulse quicken and take another drink.

“So, how did we get in here tonight, really?” I gesture around the space.

“I’ve played here a few times.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“I thought you played dive bars.”

“I never said Ionlyplayed dive bars. You assumed. I said I’ve played every bar in the city. House of Blues is included in that. One of my brother’s friends manages the place. Whenever there’s a band that fits my genre he usually hooks me up and lets me open the show if there’s space for me. Some bands have two opening acts. Others have one, and when they do, the club recruits local bands for the other spot. That’s where I usually come in.”

“That’s really cool. So have you met a lot of famous musicians?”

“I’ve met my fair share.” He presses the beer bottle to his lips and takes a drink.

“Are they all assholes?”

“On the contrary, actually. Most of them are pretty down to earth. Don’t get me wrong, there’s definitely a few not so great ones. But most are genuinely good people just doing what they love to do. Play music. You’ll have to come the next time I open. I can get you backstage.”

“I’d love that,” I say, a wave of sadness washing over me knowing I’ll probably never get the chance.

Why did I have to meet him now? When everything is so uncertain? Where was he a year ago? Or six months ago? I try not to let the emotion I feel seep to the surface but apparently it shows on my face just the same.

“You okay?” Abel asks, his brows furrowing.

“Yeah. Of course.” I force a smile and lift the straw to my lips.

How easy it is to forget with him. How effortless. When he smiles at me it’s like the rest of the world melts away. But that doesn’t change the reality of my situation. If anything it makes it more real. Because it reminds me of what I’ll never have.

It would be so easy to give into the panic and fear that’s gripping my chest like a vice. It would be so easy to let myself fall apart. But what good would that do? At least being here with Abel I’m able to enjoy what little time I have left.

You could survive...the tiny voice in my head reminds me. And while yes, there is a thirty percent chance I will–and I want to believe in that thirty percent more than anything in the world–the fact still remains that there’s a seventy percent chance I won’t. I’m not a pessimistic person, but I am a realist. And realistically I know that this could very well be one of my last nights on Earth. And the last thing I want to do is spend it doing anything other than living.

Abel starts to say something but the words die on his lips when my cell phone buzzes to life in the small handbag draped over my shoulder. I immediately reach for it.

My heart picks up speed when I see my sister’s name flash across the screen. I’ve avoided calling her all evening out of fear that she would know just by the sound of my voice that something is off.

Tomorrow. I will tell her everything tomorrow. But for tonight I want this. I want to live my life like a normal nineteen year old girl. I want to laugh and dance. I want to get lost in the eyes of the incredible man standing in front of me. Tonight, I want to forget.

“You gonna answer that?” Abel asks as I stare at the screen for several long moments.

“It’s my sister,” I say, silencing the ringer. “I’ll call her later.” I wait until my phone signals a missed call before sliding it back into my bag.

I look around, realizing that several more people are now standing around us. One minute the place was vacant and the next there were hundreds of people, all crammed together and somehow it wasn’t something that even registered on my radar. Then again, not much has. Abel is too distracting, too consuming, to really focus on anything else.

“Looks like the show is about to start,” Abel informs me, pointing to the stage right as the lights dim. Sure enough, within seconds the band filters out and there’s an instant shift in the crowd as everyone surges toward the front. “You wanna move closer?”

“Not yet. I think I’d rather enjoy it back here for now,” I say, feeling like I’ve got a pretty good view of the stage.

“Good choice. When you get up close it becomes harder to see, anyway. Especially for someone of your stature.”

“My stature?” I grin.

“I just mean, you’re not very tall. It can become hard to see when you have people taller than you standing directly in front of you.”

“So you’re calling me short?” I pretend to be offended even though I can tell he knows I’m just messing with him.

“Would you prefer vertically challenged?” He laughs when I narrow my gaze at him.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” I whip my hair over one shoulder and turn my gaze forward. “Who are these guys?” I ask, having not thought to ask who the opening act is.

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