I shut off my phone, so his reply won’t wake me up. I have nothing more to say to him. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll call my dad, but whatever. My dad can’t honestly expect me to marry someone who is having a baby with another woman.
17
Quinn
The lack of sleep I’m experiencing could easily be chalked up to the stress and pressure I’m feeling from my family and now Dana about joining the band. The nameless band that doesn’t really exist, and apparently won’t if I’m not a member, which I find to be utterly ridiculous. The members they’ve already added will make a nice ensemble regardless of whether I’m there or not.
Except my lack of sleep isn’t about the band, it’s about Nola. I can’t seem to get her off my mind and each time I close my eyes, she’s there, and I’m with her. My vivid imagination played out scenarios where we were together, as a couple, doing all the things my sisters do with their significant others. I even pictured Nola meeting my parents and my mother falling madly in love with her, which is completely nuts since I barely know the woman myself. And yet, every thought I have is about her. From the way she smiles to the way she tilts her head when she’s trying to flirt, to how she was so nervous to hold onto me while I was driving her home. That was my biggest mistake earlier this morning. I should’ve reached for her hands and pulled her to my back, but fear held me back. It’s always fear, crippling me when I least expect it.
I think about calling Noah, but Peyton will be there, and the last thing I want is for him to have to keep secrets from her. They’re about to start life as a married couple, and while he’s my best friend, his relationship with Peyton supersedes my girl drama. Although, it’s unfair of me to say what’s going on with Nola and I is drama, especially since we’ve spent hardly any time together and barely know each other.
Maybe she’s a complication, or maybe my mind needs to shut up and stop trying to label the crush I have as an issue and just go with the flow. It seems more plausible and adult-like, in my opinion, but what the hell do I know? I’ve never felt this way. I’ve never had the urge to see someone almost immediately after leaving them, and I’ve certainly never driven back to a place to pick someone up just to give them a ride home. That was so out of character for me.
When I got home last night, I paced. I had asked Nola what time she got off, with the intent of staying at the Bean Song until she was done, however getting that close to her, smelling her sweet perfume, and touching her just about did me in. I had to leave. I had to escape the walls that were closing in.
I hate having this anxiety about dating, about the band, about life. It seems that any time I want to make a change, the pressure to be someone I’m not or the feeling of dread I get thinking that Alicia is lurking around the corner, weighs so heavily on me that I give in and give up. It’s not how I was raised, and it’s definitely not how my family or sisters are. Up until I moved to California, I’d never been plagued with the need to feel isolated, locked away so no one, especially the woman who gave me up, can find me.
None of this makes sense since I’m willing to pour my heart and soul into a performance every weekend. Granted, it’s usually the same people every time and much like my father, I’ve taken to hiding behind my beanie or ball cap. It gives an odd sense of security, yet it works. I know my mom hates it though. You’d think by now she’d be used to the guys in her life wearing beanies.
I have to make a change. What that is, I don’t know. It’s easy to say I’m going to put myself out there more with Nola, but how? Do I ask her out? Do I drive by her apartment hoping she’ll be outside? Do I wait until Friday and talk to her before or after I go on stage? I need answers and there isn’t anyone to guide me, except my sisters and no. Just no.
Speaking of sisters, I’m due to meet Elle across town and I have yet to leave. I know what it’s about; her band. After my meeting with Dana, I kn
ew Elle would call and make a last-ditch effort plea to get me to come in. Thing is, if she’d stop asking, I might consider it, but everyone keeps throwing it in my face and not giving me time to think. I want time to process the expectations before I make my decision. For some, this is easy. For me, it’s downright dreadful. It’s not that I don’t want to play, I do. And Liam gave me a glimpse of what it’s like to have the constant family companionship that comes with a band. It’s just everything else, things I experienced growing up with 4225 West. Granted, I don’t think my sister will pull any Sam Marino type shit, but record labels are known for being shady.
Then there are the tours, the gigs, recording sessions, and rehearsals. Here I am, thinking of asking the cute little waitress out because I really want to get to know her, and contemplating joining a band. I must be freaking crazy. No one in their right mind would want to get involved with someone like me, not with all of this on my plate. I won’t even get into the rabid fans. Still, I’m on my way to see my sister, to save face with my family because the last thing I want is for her to go running to our parents again. She’s a brat, but I love her.
Unlucky for me, traffic is light. This is a complete rarity for Los Angeles at any time of the day. 4225 West has designated space at one of the local studios and my dad has given Elle an office for her to conduct her business. This band, the one she’s creating, isn’t her first act. She’s already signed two other solo acts and has landed them pretty decent deals. However, this band would be her biggest venture yet. Something tells me this will be a cakewalk for her.
Elle is sitting behind a metal desk when I walk in. She looks up and pulls the glasses she’s wearing off her face.
“Since when do you need specs?” I ask, taking the seat in front of her desk.
“I’m trying to look smarter.”
“To impress whom?”
She shrugs. “Ben likes them.”
I chuckle and internally cringe. I don’t want to know anything about her and Ben. “Well, they look nice on you. But you’re smart without them.”
“Quinn are you giving me compliments because you’re here to break my heart some more?”
I shake my head. “Why do you need me?”
Elle stands and walks to the front of her desk. She takes the seat beside me and reaches for my hands. “For as long as I can remember, this was going to be our thing. You were going to be the first act I signed, and while that hasn’t worked out for one reason or the other, the plan has always been for me to make you a superstar.”
“Elle—”
“No, just listen, please. I know there’s something going on with you. I’ve seen the subtle changes over time. So, has Peyton. We’re not asking you to tell us what it is but know that we’re here for when you’re ready to talk. I believe in you, Quinn. We all do. You have this immense talent to draw people toward you. You sing, and they listen. I’ve witnessed it first-hand. I wouldn’t ask you to join this band if I didn’t think they would benefit from you being in it.”
“They’d be fine without me,” I tell her, but she’s shaking her head.
“Fine doesn’t sell out arenas. Fine doesn’t land multi-million-dollar record contracts. Fine doesn’t make you a household name.”
“What does?”
“Stellar, magnificent, astounding, mind-blowing… you. You alone can put this band on the map. Give me a chance, Quinn. Give yourself a chance to show the world how amazing you are.”