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Kinsey’s let her head fall back. “That feels accurate.”
“She sounds like an asshole,” Eliza said.
“She’s not,” Kinsey said shortly, lifting her head. “She’s really not.”
“Really?” Eliza raised her eyebrows. “How is she not?”
“She’s…kind,” Kinsey told her, “and principled. And-”
“Hot,” Eliza butted in.
“No! I mean, well yes, obviously. But I’m not giving her a pass for that.”
“Sounds like you are.”
“I mean I left, didn’t I?” Kinsey argued. “No passes given here. I didn’t get into any more conversations about it, I just drew a hard boundary and I left right away in the middle of her freak out,” Kinsey’s voice faded out. “Shit,” she said, as she played that back. “I left in the middle of her freak out,” she repeated. “I didn’t let her try to explain or stay to talk about it, I just left and then I deleted and blocked her number.” She looked at Eliza, her eyes wide.
“That’s… certainly one way to draw a boundary,” Eliza said. “Effective. Brutal.”
“Oh fuck.”
“I mean, it still sounds like it was for the best,” Eliza pointed out. “You weren’t getting your needs met.”
“Maybe,” Kinsey said, her eyes fixed in the middle distance, “or maybe sometimes things just take longer than we’d like.”
They were quiet for a beat. Eliza started tapping her fingernails against the glass of her beer bottle.
“Do you still have her number somewhere?” she asked after a while, her tone casual.
“No,” Kinsey said. She’d forced herself to throw away her paper copy too.
“Well,” Eliza said. She hesitated. “Still sounds like it’s for the best.”
“Maybe.” Kinsey stared down at her hands. “Yeah,” she added after a moment. “Probably.”
Cincinnati, Columbus, Cleveland, Pittsburgh.
Lane had headed back home after Louisville, so technically Kinsey had Cassidy back, but something in their spell had been broken, allowing all the air to come rushing back in. They still spent ridiculous amounts of time together, but frequently now, Cassidy sat next to Coral on the bus, their heads inclined toward each other talking intensely. On the opposite side of the bus, Kinsey and Eliza lounged side by side, trading playlists, talking gear, deciding Eliza’s romantic future and occasionally, furtively talking about Kinsey’s own romantic disaster.
Washington, Baltimore, Wilmington, Philadelphia.
Kinsey had never tired of the road yet, but she found herself feeling homesick. She missed her family, wistful that this leg of the tour didn’t make it to Chicago. She’d do anything for a hug from her mom right now and a homemade family dinner. She craved her quiet apartment in Nashville, the recording they’d be knuckling down for together a little more order in her days. Yet there was still a heavy wistful weight in her chest she couldn’t explain. Homesick didn’t quite seem to cover it.
New York was a blast. A bunch of Kinsey’s college friends turned up for their gig and swept the four of them out afterward. They gleefully told Cassidy embarrassing stories about her, buzzing over their success, talking about their own hits and misses, the stage shows, the off Broadway plays, the dance productions. Kinsey missed them all desperately, making plans to come back again when their schedule allowed it, and then just like that, they were gone. Back on the road.
Kinsey stared out the window of the bus, melancholy and tired. Beside her Cassidy texted Lane, a secretive smile on her face. Across the aisle Eliza was low-key arguing with Dave on a call. Noah had joined this leg of the tour and he and Coral exuded easy, peaceful, married contentment for at least a mile in every direction. Franklin and Aria had broken up, but it hadn’t slowed Franklin’s pace; he seemed to be loving his freedom and the girls who flocked to him after every gig. It wasn’t that everyone had someone, or even that everyone was content with the someone they had, it was just that Kinsey was alone in feeling nothing but a still burning loss.
God she was so done with it all. She wished she’d never met Rosalie at all. It had been incredible while she was in it, all that heat, all that craving and feeling so perfectly matched by someone, but the crash down the other side knowing she’d never get to have that again… it sucked all the color out of her world. She’d have been better off never having known her at all.
In New Haven, the air was cool and crisp. Lane took the weekend to come up and see Cassidy, so they booked separate rooms in a cute boutique hotel near the sea front, with - Kinsey hoped - thick walls for whoever got placed next door to them. She opened the windows, the scent of sea salt in the air luxurious after the stuffiness of the tour bus.
They played that night in a big venue, sounded by gorgeous architecture, right by Yale, the crowd full of hyped up students. Their set felt fired up, full of energy, the audience clearly obsessed with Cassidy as she gleamed under the lights.Kinsey watched her, watched the audience, watched the lights all around them. She could almost taste what it was going to be like when the crowd was there just for them. The roar of stadiums shouting their names.
Right before Honeybaked went on, Coral rounded them up.
“We’re on the home stretch now,” she told them. “This is usually when someone gets sick, or breaks a damn ankle going on stage because we’re all getting tired. “ She didn’t look tired, she looked fucking radiant, but it was true that everyone else was getting wearier every time the adrenaline of their set wore off. “No hanging around tonight. Head off now and get some rest.”
Cassidy and Lane were clearly not about to argue against an excuse to sneak off to the hotel early, but Kinsey frowned. Coral never really did the mother hen thing, content to let them fuck around and live the consequences as long as they showed up and were damn professionals on stage.