Tonight Amanda went out somewhere, and with the quiet apartment I’m working on yet another assignment I put off. I turned off the TV and my phone and forced myself to buckle down, and the approach worked. I’ve just finished and I turn my phone back on to check for messages. As soon as the screen comes to life I’m bombarded with missed call and text alerts.
Where are you???
Gemma, are you kidding me right now?
All of them similar messages from both Amanda and Spence.
Shit. I’m supposed to be at Spence’s show I realize, panicking. I check the time and see if I leave right this very second I might be able to catch the tail end. Grabbing my coat and bag I sprint out the door. I’m wearing leggings and an old sweatshirt and my hair is a mess, but there’s no time to change.
Breathless, I arrive at the bar where they’re playing in time to hear the last song of their set. Scanning the crowd I spot Amanda and elbow my way over to her.
“Where the hell have you been?” she hisses when I reach her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I gasp, out of breath. “I was writing a paper and totally forgot.”
“Spence is pissed,” Amanda tells me.
“Can I have this?” I ask, reaching for the drink in her hand. I don’t wait for an answer before I pull it away from her and take a swig. Vodka soda with a splash of cran. Typical.
Losing Streak is on stage, and they’re playing better than I’ve ever heard them play before. Max has had them practicing day and night, and clearly it’s paying off.
After they finish their set, I look around nervously for Spence. When I finally spot him making his way over to me he’s breathing heavy and he’s kind of sweaty. His t-shirt is damp and clinging to him and his face is flushed.
“What the fuck, Gemma. Where were you?”
He’s pissed. He never talks to me like that. My hackles raise.
“I turned my phone off. I’ve been working on an assignment all night.”
“Are you kidding me?” His mouth is pressed into a hard, straight line across his face. The only other time I’ve seen him look this pissed is when he was around Pete Crawford. This is not good.
“I’m so, so, so sorry. I totally spaced out,” I say, reaching for him, but he shrugs me away.
“Yeah, Gemma, thanks for that. My girlfriend totally blew me off and I had to pretend I wasn’t fucking crushed. Had to pretend I knew you weren’t coming so I didn’t look like an idiot.” Spence hurls the words at me like poison darts.
“Spence, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine for you to ignore me and forget about me, but if I don’t pick up the phone every time you call you flip out.”
“Spence, that’s not fair,” I say. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I forgot. I’m sorry.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and won’t look at me. Finally he turns to me, and he looks so disappointed it breaks my heart.
“I’m trying my best here, Gemma. I really am. I check in with you constantly. I’m at your beck and call. Then tonight, of all nights, you blow me off? If the tables had been turned you’d be pissed. What would you do if I bailed on you and turned my phone off?”
“Spence…” I start to say, but he shakes his head.
“No, forget it. I’m gonna go.”
“Spence, no, wait!” I say, reaching out and grabbing him by the back of his t-shirt. He stops but doesn’t turn around. “Please stay. I’m sorry. This is my fault. I’m a shit girlfriend.”
Spence turns around to look at me. He looks tired.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, taking a tentative step towards him.
“You’re not a shit girlfriend.” He sighs and puts his arms around me. “But I really missed you tonight. I needed you here.”
“I feel awful Spence,” I tell him, and I do feel awful. I can’t believe I let him down like this. “Please, please forgive me? I promise I’ll never miss one of your shows again.”
I stand on my tip-toes and touch my lips to his.
“Never?” He asks, pulling me in closer.
“Never, ever.”
“Never, ever, ever?”
“An infinity of nevers. I swear.”
“Okay, good,” he says. He kisses me back and we stand there, kissing, until I’m sure we’re not fighting anymore.
“If it helps, the part of your set I did see was really, really good,” I tell him.
He looks pleased about this at least. “Yeah? I guess Max was right about practicing harder. Don’t tell him I said that though.”
I laugh. “I would never.”
He pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he says. “I didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him, snuggling in closer. “I’m sorry I missed most of your show.”
“Do you feel like showing me how sorry you are?” he asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.
I snuggle in closer and give him my own mischievous look.
“I can definitely show you how sorry I am.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Spence says, and that’s just what we do.
Even though I missed most of it, Losing Streak’s show with A Fine Sound felt like a turning point. Ever since Spence told me about the possibility of them going on tour this summer I’ve had a horrible knot in my stomach, wondering what would happen with us. After hearing them play the other night I’m convinced Spence is going to leave me.
I’m too scared to ask him about it because I don’t want to hear his answer. Instead I’m trying to spend as much time with him as possible before he inevitably hits me with the bad news. But it already feels like he’s slipping away from me.
We’re lying in my bed watching a movie on my laptop, but Spence seems distracted. He hasn’t been himself since their show, but he’s assured me multiple times he’s not still mad about me missing it. My normally charming and animated Spence is gone, replaced with a version of him that’s guarded and sullen. As hard as I’m trying to break him out of this funk, we both know it’s because of the elephant in the room that we both refuse to talk about.
It’s beginning to feel like too much weight to bear, though. I don’t want to know his decision, but I also need to know it, for my own sanity.
“Have you made a decision about the tour?” I ask him now, my heart hammering in my chest.
Spence immediately tenses up and I can almost see him shut down. His eyes stay focused on the laptop screen as he answers. “Not yet.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling both disappointed and relieved.
“You’ll be the first to find out when I do, I promise,” Spence smiles, like all of this isn’t a big deal, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“What about you?” he asks. “Did you get in your application for that internship.”
My stomach plummets to my toes. Another subject I’d be much happier avoiding.
“No, not yet.” I sigh. “Truthfully, I don’t want to apply at all. I don’t even want the internship.”
“You don’t?” Spence says, surprised. “I thought that was the plan this whole time.”
“It was.” I shrug. “But I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel right.”
Spence nods. “Okay, so what’s your backup plan?”
“I don’t have one,” I groan.
“What about the bar?” Spence asks.
“Oh sure, I’ll just be a bartender for the rest of my life. How aspirational,” I scoff.
“Okay, first of all, there’s nothing wrong with being a bartender for the rest of your life, if that’s what you want to do,” Spence says. “Second of all, that’s not what I meant. Are you not part owner with Liam? Talk to him, see if there’s any way for you to take on more responsibility. He’ll probably be glad to hand some stuff over, what with the baby and all.”
I’ve somehow never really thought about the bar like that. It’s always been Liam in charge and me doing whatever he tells me to do. But Spence has a point. We do have equal ownership.
I don’t think Liam will be as happy as Spence suggested with me wanting to have a bigger part in things, but it could be an option.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll talk to him,” I relent.
“It doesn’t have to be forever. At the very least it’s experience you can put on a future resume.” Spence shrugs. “You’re lucky to have a back-up like this.”
“So are you,” I say, seizing the opportunity to bring up the tour situation again. “You could easily go out and find a really great job, I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Spence says, and I see him start to shut down again. “Are you hungry?” he asks now, changing the subject completely. “I can make us some food if you want.”
“You can make us food?” I ask, arching an eyebrow with him and getting out of bed. “There’s only room for one cook in this relationship, and that’s me. Plus, I’ve eaten food you’ve made before and I’m in no hurry to do it again.”
“Excuse me! Rude!” Spence says, but he’s grinning again.
“Come on, I’ll let you be my sous chef,” I relent, tugging him out of bed.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Spence
Max has issued me an ultimatum. A Fine Sound officially extended us an offer and we have to give them an answer. Which means Max needs my answer. No matter what I choose someone is going to end up hurt and disappointed. But I have to decide by the end of the weekend.
We’re playing Kincaid’s tonight, and everything about it feels awkward. Things between me and Gemma are weird. It’s like we both know our relationship is hanging in the balance, but neither one of us can stand to actually talk about it. Lucas and Max are annoyed I haven’t made a decision, and none of this bodes well for a good show tonight. I’ll be lucky if the night doesn’t end with me being kicked out of the band for real.
We’re about to go on and I’m plugging in my amp while Lucas tunes his bass next to me.
“Oh shit,” I hear him mutter. “Shit, shit, shit.” I figure he must have broken a string or something, but when I look over at him he’s staring straight ahead, out into the bar. I follow his gaze, and that’s when I see what’s got him so worked up. Or rather who.
Pete Crawford is sidling up to the bar, and with him is none other than Fiona.
“Oh fuck.” I’m frozen in place even though every fiber of my being is saying run, run you idiot, get out of here.
“What is with the language?” Max says, coming over to us. Then he spots them, too. “Fuucckkk.”
Fiona turns and looks right at me. She smiles and starts walking towards the stage.
“Did you know about this?” I hiss at Max. “Did you invite them?”
“No!” he says, horrified.
“Gemma can’t see her,” I say to Max. “Keep her distracted while I get rid of her.”
To his credit, rather than giving me a hard time, Max nods and hurries away just as Fiona reaches me.
“Hey, Spenny,” she says, smiling in a way I’m sure she thinks is sultry but makes my stomach turn.
“Hey, Fiona,” I say, focusing on tuning my guitar even though it’s perfectly fine.
“Lucas,” she says, looking over at him. Lucas juts his chin in her direction in greeting and then scurries away from us, like the little rat that he is. I’ll give him hell for abandoning me like this later. I scan the room, searching for Max, hoping he’s keeping Gemma distracted somehow.
“It’s been awhile,” Fiona says. She’s playing with her necklace, drawing it along her cleavage, trying to be enticing. I know all Fiona’s tricks and I’m not falling for them. “How have you been?”
“Good,” I say. “Fucking great, actually.”
“You look great,” she says.
I put down my guitar, crossing my arms over my chest. “What are you doing here, Fiona?”
“I’m in town and heard you guys were playing tonight so I figured I would come see the show.” She reaches over and plays with the strings on my hoodie and I swat her hand away. “And see you, too.”
“Well, you saw me. You need to leave now.”
She pouts. “Why are you so cranky? Don’t you want to catch up for old time’s sake?”
“Don’t start, Fiona,” I warn. “You should leave.”
She pouts again. “Can I at least have a hug?”
I’m opening my mouth to say hell no, she’s never going to put her hands on me again, but she’s already wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me toward her. My hands reach up, grabbing her waist to pry her off of me. In that moment before I push away I look up and see Gemma.
The look on her face isn’t good, but when she sees me entwined with Fiona it goes from bad to worse.
“Oh fuck me,” I mutter under my breath, shoving Fiona to the side.
“That was the plan,” she says. Her gaze follows mine to Gemma, who shoots daggers at me with her eyes and turns and runs off the way she came.
“Who’s that?” Fiona asks.
“My girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Fiona scoffs. “Didn’t you learn your lesson with me, Spenny? You’re not so great at the girlfriend thing.”
Max comes over to us. “Sorry man, I tried.”
I push past him and Fiona, hurrying to catch up to Gemma. She isn’t in the back room so I go out into the alley behind the bar and that’s where I find her. She’s leaning up against the wall, arms crossed, expression murderous. Her head whips around to look at me when she hears me come out the door.
“Gemma, I can explain,” I say.
She laughs nastily.
“‘I can explain’,” she says in a mocking voice. “I’m sure you can, Spence. You’re getting very good at explaining away situations like this, aren’t you? Just like you’re so good at everything else.”
“Hey, come on, that’s not fair.” I take a step toward her but she backs away.
“Oh it’s not fair?” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Well I don’t think it’s fair I had to watch you get all cozy with your ex-girlfriend.”
“That’s not what happened.”
She scoffs and shakes her head. “You’d really convinced me I was wrong about you. I should have known better.”
“Gemma,” I say, my tone sharper than I want it to be, but she’s not listening. “Nothing happened.”
“I saw you hug her.”
“I wasn’t hugging her, I was trying to get her away from me!”
She scoffs. “Sure, Spence. Sure. What is she even doing here?”
“I don’t know! Trust me, none of us invited her. Max is getting rid of her right now.” He’d better be, or he’d be dead. “I tried to get rid of her before you saw she was here.”
“Yeah, I know,” she snaps. “Max told me. Told me you were trying to keep me hidden in the back room.”
“Okay, no, that’s not what I meant.” Jesus Christ what had Max said to her? “I was trying to protect you, okay? Protect you from anything like this happening.”
“I don’t need your protection!” she yells. “And it looks a lot more like you were trying to keep me hidden so you could have a moment alone with Fiona.”
The vitriol in her voice does not go unnoticed.
“In hindsight, I can see how it would seem that way,” I say, trying to stay calm. “But I assure you that wasn’t my intention.”
She doesn’t say anything, just stands there with her arms crossed, fuming.
The door behinds us opens and we both whip around to see who it is.
Lucas sticks his head out.
“Uh, hey, sorry to interrupt, but we have to go on now,” he says, then quickly retreats back inside.
“I have to go,” I say lamely.
“So go,” she says, not looking at me.
“Can we talk about this later?”
“Whatever, Spence.”
She turns and yanks the back door open with enough force that it slams back against the brick wall of the building, then she marches inside.
“Gemma, come on,” I say, fo
llowing after her. “Let’s not fight about this right now.”
“You’re supposed to be on stage right now,” she replies, and marches behind the bar, expression full of rage.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I make my way to the stage. I do a quick scan of the bar, but don’t see Pete or Fiona. Max and Lucas must have managed to get rid of them.
“How pissed is she?” Max asks as I pick up my guitar.
“Pretty fucking pissed,” I say, letting out a sigh. “What the hell did you say to her?”
“I don’t know man,” Max flinches. “I tried to keep her in the back but I ran out of excuses pretty quick. She got the truth right out of me. She can be really intense when she wants to be.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”
The last thing I feel like doing right now is playing this show. I don’t play my best, but I don’t even care. The bar is crowded, but as I play I try to look over at Gemma as often as I can, trying to meet her eyes and somehow let her know I don’t care about Fiona. That the only girl I care about is her.
But the bar is too crowded. I can’t see Gemma through the mass of people.
Chapter Forty
Gemma
Even after Spence explains and apologizes I’m mad as hell. I scour the bar looking for Fiona, ready to rip every piece of her stupid, thick, auburn hair right out of her head, but I can’t spot her.
If she was still here she’d be pretty easy to spot. She’s tall, tall enough that Spence wouldn’t have to stoop down if he kissed her. Which of course he has. Thinking about it makes me feel sick. I’d never thought about one of the girls from Spence’s past reappearing in the flesh.
Until tonight anyway, when I saw him with the most infamous of all his former hookups.
Fiona is pretty, even I have to admit it. Her boobs are bigger than mine. Which I know because they were about a centimeter away from escaping her tank top. So tacky. What did Spence see in her? Is that the type of girl he likes? Because Fiona and I are nothing alike, that much is evident just by looking at her. But now all I can think about is how Spence has seen her naked. And she’s seen him naked. And then I feel so sick I have to pour myself a ginger ale to settle my stomach, and then I have to add some whiskey to get my brain to stop stressing about this.
Lost and Found Page 20
