Then I started telling her about Matt and his trusty bucket. Not only did it say Property of Matt Hancock on the side, like Griffin had wanted, but it was also littered with band stickers, crude drawings, sentiments of encouragement, and even a couple of phone numbers from hopeful fans. Matt hadn’t needed to use it again after that first time, but there was something about having it nearby that calmed him. It was kind of his lucky charm.

As Kiera was sympathetically telling me, “Oh, poor Matt!” I noticed Evan peeking his head out of the back entrance. He saw me on the phone, then mouthed, You okay?

Nodding, I gave him a thumbs up. Yes, with Kiera’s voice in my ear, I was great. Finally.

Chapter 18

GETTING CARRIED AWAY

The next day, my phone rang and chimed so many times, I thought I might go insane. Because it wasn’t Kiera who was assaulting me through that stupid device. No, whenever I glanced at my phone to see who it was, it was either Hailey or the unprogrammed number that I knew belonged to Gavin. I ignored both of them, and it chipped away at me. I’d so desperately wanted a relationship with Hailey. And I’d so desperately wanted to avoid anything that had to do with Gavin. But both desires had backfired on me, and now I was paying the price. What a fool I was for wanting something.

Instead of dwelling on Hailey and Gavin, and the agony they were bringing into my life, I focused instead on the good things that were surrounding me: my friends, the fun we were having, and my girlfriend, and how excited I was to see her on Christmas Eve. That thought became my obsession as the day wore on. One more week and she would be in my arms again.

“Hey, Kell, we’re going to go find a bar. You in?”

I looked over to see Evan standing next to Matt, Griffin, and Justin. We’d just finished the show, but we had another one tomorrow, so we didn’t have to leave town right away. Feeling energetically awake, I nodded. “Sounds great.”

We found a bar close by that was pretty packed. The minute we stepped inside, a group of girls recognized us—or at least, they recognized Justin, the celebrity amongst us nobodies. There was a chorus of squeals, then Justin was swarmed. The half panicked, half amused look on his face was priceless. The annoyed look on Griffin’s face was even better.

“Damn it, we can’t play Find-a-Skank here if people know who he is. That’s not fair,” Griffin said with a pout.

Shrugging, I told him, “Just think of it as a challenge. If you beat him here, surrounded by his fans, you’ll be a god.”