Guilt squeezed my heart at the worry I heard in his voice. “I’m sorry. Thanks for trying to run me to the hospital,” I teased.
“He told you about that?”
"He said they had to convince you that you weren't faster than a car." I leaned my head against his shoulder, exhaustion trying to pull me down.
“Well, next time, you should tell me about any aversions to food you have. Shit, the look on your face when you saw those waffles.” He shuddered. “I don’t think I'll ever be able to get that image wiped from my mind for as long as I live. I love you,” he said kissing me on the cheek.
“I love you too. I’m sorry. Don’t worry; it's just waffles. Oh, and red roses, but you already knew that.”
We all stuffed ourselves, thankfully with no further reference to my fall. Even with the rocky start, it had been the best Thanksgiving I’d ever experienced.
I felt my eyelids start to droop. I couldn’t even lift my head from Kill’s shoulder. His phone rang inside his pocket, and after maneuvering around, he was able to get it out without dislodging my head.
“Hey,” he answered.
We all listened to the one sided conversation, which mostly consisted of Kill congratulating whoever was on the other line, along with telling them they were welcome. When he hung up, all of us were staring expectantly at him, wanting to know who he’d been talking to.
“That was Fang,” he answered. “They were offered a tour, opening for the Dongers.”
I saw the disappointment in the boys’ faces, and I wanted to fix everything right then, but I had to be patient it was already too late for my plan.
“Good for them. They'll get some practice at being an opening band, so that when we hit it big, they can open for us,” Jet said, making everyone cheer.
Even with Jet trying to make light of the news, the mood in the room shifted. After a few stifled yawns, Martha and my dad announced it was time for them to go to go back to their hotel room.
"Straight to bed, young lady," Martha said, after she and the girls cleaned up the mess in the kitchen.
"But I wanted to go with Kill to drive you to the hotel."
"No, you won’t be doing that. We’ll see you tomorrow, go get some sleep."
The next morning Kill was already out of bed, making what I had to do easier. I snatched my phone off the nightstand and texted Mr. Hutchingson.
Do what you can
to get the JackholeS
on tour. They can
never know you own
the company
sponsoring it.
I felt no thank you was required. In my eyes, he really wasn’t doing the boys a favor. They were destined to be famous. This was just a way to make it happen faster since I messed yesterday up for them.
Honestly, he would be getting the better end of the deal. His advertising company would be associated with the JackholeS, and he would be making a ton of money from them soon. This way, my conscience would be cleared. I’d promised I would do anything to help the boys make their dreams come true, and this was my way of making that happen.
My phone buzzed almost immediately.
Done
I erased the text as soon as I’d read it. I wouldn't dwell on it. The boys had done so much for me; I wasn't going to regret my decision. I just hoped Kill never found out who I’d sold my soul to for their fame.
Kill and I decided it would be the perfect day to take my dad and Martha sightseeing. We visited all the tourist attractions Portland had to offer. Kill’s phone started alerting him of missed messages as we walked around the Portland zoo.
"Don't you want to check those?" I asked when I watched him switch his phone to silent.