Betrayal of the Band

by Sarah Tipton

  “I’m not going.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s lame. The music, the stupid games, forcing us to become friends.” All one-hundred-percent truth. Sawyer would’ve said the same thing before he started avoiding Justin and Zoey.

  “You got something better to do? Sew some throw pillows? Put together flower arrangements?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s go.” Justin pushed off the couch. “We need to practice.”

  Justin was right. And playing the drums would help Sawyer forget about Zoey.

  Sawyer followed Justin out the front door. If only Sawyer could stop seeing the drumstick stabbing his best friend’s back.

  ~*~

  A few hours later, after eating dinner with the Conrads, Sawyer drummed his fingers on the armrest of Justin’s car. Running through their setlist earlier had pushed all thoughts of Zoey from his head—until Justin turned onto her street.

  His fingers froze mid-rhythm. “Where are you going?”

  “To pick up Zoey.”

  “Why?” Sawyer straightened in his seat, his hand reaching for the door handle. Maybe he’d open it in the middle of the street and make a run for it. That might be the safest option.

  “So she can go with us tonight.” Justin glanced over, brow furrowed. “Is that a problem?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” He sounded on the verge of laughter. “How long are you going to stay mad about her singing with Aurora Fire? That won’t make her change her mind.” He pulled into Zoey’s driveway. “Get in the back.”

  Sawyer stepped out of the car, and Justin headed for Zoey’s front door.

  Always the gentleman, that guy. Sawyer considered his options. He could start walking home. It was only about a mile to his house. But Justin would track him down, and how would Sawyer explain that? He jerked open the back door of the car. Staying home and trying his hand at flower arranging would’ve been smarter.

  Justin and Zoey walked toward the car holding hands. She caught sight of Sawyer, and their eyes met. The memory of Zoey pressed against him crying into his chest flooded his mind and left him cold. Why had he stopped? He should’ve ignored her and biked past.

  On the way to church, no one spoke. The music sounded muffled in the thick air of the car. Sawyer stared out the window, too aware of the faint scent of waffle cones and Zoey’s black and pink hair peeking through the head rest.

  The parking lot outside the large community church—not Justin and Zoey’s church—overflowed with cars. All the church youth groups had been invited. Lots of strangers. People who didn’t know Sawyer. People who didn’t care what he’d done. People who could fill the space between him and Zoey.

  Sawyer stalked ahead, not waiting for Justin or Zoey. All the teens were gathered in the church’s gym, their voices echoing off the metal rafters. At the door, some guy with a graying military haircut held out a slip of paper. Sawyer snatched it out of his hand and shoved it into his pocket. Then he wandered through the crowd trying to get lost.

  “Sawyer.” A finger tapped his shoulder.

  Zoey’s voice and touch stung like fire. Had she followed him? Why? Didn’t she want to avoid him too? He faced Zoey, then looked around the room searching for Justin.

  “We need to talk.”

  “No, we don’t.” He turned to escape.

  “Please, Sawyer.” She grabbed his arm.

  He spun around yanking his arm from her grasp. “You agreed to forget about it.”

  “I can’t.”

  He glanced at the people nearby. They paid no attention, but he pulled Zoey into a corner anyway. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Yes, there is.” Dozens of emotions glimmered in her eyes. “We kissed. Isn’t that something we need to talk about?”

  “No.”

  “I think it is.”

  “No, you don’t.” He stared at her. She had the same look of insecurity on her face as she had that night, and her eyes were glossy with the threat of tears. He shoved away any sympathy. Feeling sorry for her had caused all this. What had happened between them was wrong for so many reasons, and he regretted it more than the time he got caught shoplifting from the gas station. He’d sworn never to do that again, and he felt the same about Zoey. Never again. “You’re Justin’s girlfriend.”

  “But—”

  “No.” He darted out of the shadowed corner and bumped into a girl.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  He glanced down. Felicia.

  Out the corner of his eye, he saw Zoey watching him. He needed escape help.

  “Hi.” He fell into step next to Felicia.

  She looked up with startled gray eyes. “Hi. How are you?”

  “Fine.” He forced a smile. “You?”

  “Good.” She sounded way too happy.

  Sawyer sniffed the air. He didn’t detect any fake flowers. Maybe hanging out with her could work.

  “Up here, people.” A voice sounded over their heads, and the noise in the room quieted. Everyone faced one end of the gym. A bald, bearded man held a microphone. “I’m your puppet master—er, director of events—tonight.”

  The crowd laughed.

  A comedian. That made these things more fun.

  “Did everyone get a piece of paper when you arrived? If not, that guy over there”—the guy pointed at the military man waving a fist full of paper—“can fix you up. Look at the picture on it, and then find at least three other people with the same picture. Got it? Go.”

  “This is stupid,” Sawyer muttered.

  “I think it’s kind of fun.” Felicia nibbled her lower lip. “But if you wanted to leave...I’d go too.”

  The suggestion was tempting. Sawyer checked the exits. One had been left unguarded. It could work. “You got a car?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then let’s go.” Sawyer forced his way through the good little children comparing slips of paper. At the door, he glanced over his shoulder. Felicia was behind him.

  They slipped into the dimly-lit hall.

  “What if we get caught?” Felicia whispered.

  “They’ll lecture us and then force us to join the party.” Sawyer followed unfamiliar hallways looking for an outside door. “But no one noticed.”

  Felicia stayed on his heels, her staccato breaths audible.

  What would happen if they were caught? Probably nothing, but Sawyer hadn’t ever ditched a youth thing like this. Justin always gave him a ride so he had no way to escape if he changed his mind. But the gym wasn’t big enough for him and Zoey. Not if she was determined to talk. Didn’t she understand the meaning of “forget”?

  They came around a corner. Light shone through double glass doors. Sawyer led Felicia into the lot on the backside of the building. “Finally.”

  “We did it.” Felicia giggled and bounced along next to him. “Wow, I’ve never done anything like that before. It was exciting.”

  “Your life must be boring.” They’d ditched a youth mixer. Not school.

  “Yeah, I guess it is.” She clamped her hand on his arm. “So now what? You wanna go hang out somewhere? Get some food?”

  What was with girls grabbing onto him tonight? He jerked away. He hadn’t thought this through. Would he be stuck with Felicia for the rest of the night listening to her babble on and on about nothing? His head hurt already.

  “Or we could go see a movie.” They rounded the building to the front parking lot.

  “A movie?” Theaters were quiet places. Sawyer might not be stuck making conversation there. “That sounds good.”

  “OK. What do you wanna see?”

  “Whatever. But not some stupid romance.” That seemed like the type of movie she’d want to see, and he couldn’t deal with more kissing in his life.

  “Here’s my car.” She stopped next to a gray car.

  Sawyer sat in the passenger seat half-listening to Felicia describe movie options, his thoughts back on Zoey. It was as if Zoey wanted to destro
y their band this summer—first by leaving, now by not forgetting. But he wouldn’t let her. She couldn’t want to destroy her relationship with Justin. Except she wasn’t the one who would destroy their relationship.

  Justin would blame Sawyer.

  Sawyer blamed himself.

  15

  Let it Roll

  Zoey bounced into Aurora Fire’s house Tuesday, as happy and energetic as a preschooler after a sundae at the ice cream shack. She’d proven herself Saturday. Now no one could complain.

  A guitar solo drifted up from the basement, and Zoey followed the sound. Practice was no longer scary.

  She skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. A strange girl sat next to Bailee. Were there two of them now? How could Zoey survive two Bailees?

  “You’d look great with green, Cherie.” Bailee tugged a piece of the younger girl’s messy red-brown ponytail. “I could do it for you.”

  “What d’you think, Vance?” Cherie’s eager tone screamed new girlfriend. “You like green?”

  He glanced up from his guitar. “Yeah. Or blue.”

  “Hmm.” She pursed her lips, staring at some loose strands. “I don’t know if I’d want to go all green. Maybe like hers.”

  Vance and Bailee stared at Zoey and her black hair with pink streaks.

  She touched her necklace, heat creeping up her neck. People didn’t look to her all-black trend for style ideas unless they were attending a funeral.

  “I guess you could do that.” Bailee made it sound like the dumbest idea ever.

  Goody. Today would be fun as usual.

  Vance stepped around Zoey and yelled up the stairs. “Practice!”

  Zoey lowered her head and moved to her spot between Vance’s guitars and Devin’s basses.

  “Our next concert is in almost two weeks—next Saturday.” Vance planted himself in front of Zoey. His lack of a smile failed to clue her in on whether he wanted her singing in another concert. “But after last night’s performance, I think you’ll do fine.”

  “Thanks.” She bit the insides of her cheeks to keep her smile from spreading. Finally—finally—band practice would be fun.

  “But she had to rewrite the songs to do it.” Bailee delivered each word with needle-like sharpness.

  “So what?” Vance shot Bailee a frown and focused back on Zoey. “I suppose if I’d known Justin Conrad was your boyfriend, I would’ve realized you couldn’t sing ’em.”

  Pop. The hope of a stress-free practice vanished. “What’s that got to do with it?”

  “He hasn’t changed at all in five years.” Vance sounded disgusted, like Justin not changing was a personal offense. “He’s still pretending to be a good little Christian. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He comes from a family of great actors.”

  “What’s your problem with him?” Zoey had heard about the Vance who’d taught Justin the guitar, but until Justin had come to practice with her, she hadn’t realized Aurora Fire’s Vance was also Justin’s Vance. They’d sounded like two different guys. Justin had always praised his guitar-playing idol. But except for Vance’s skills with a guitar, he wasn’t praise or idol worthy. “I thought you two were friends before you left?”

  “You mean he didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “I moved away with my mom because my dad cheated on her—with Justin’s mom.”

  “Oh.” That explained a lot. Vance’s comment about Justin’s parents pretending to be happily married. Justin asking if she thought his mom was dressed too nice. Justin grilling his mom about where she was going. But Justin had never explained any of this to Zoey. Not even the reason for his parents’ almost-divorce.

  “But apparently, his parents worked everything out in counseling. Lucky them, huh?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Zoey wasn't sure if agreeing was the right answer.

  What would it be like to lose a parent like that? Mama’s dying was horrible, but no one had caused her death. Sometimes, she wished she could be angry at someone other than God. Then again, it wasn’t as if Justin had set up his mom and Vance’s dad, so why was Vance blaming Justin?

  And who would Justin blame if he found out she’d kissed Sawyer? Would they work it out like his parents? Or break up like Vance’s? She yanked her necklace out of her shirt. Did she even want to stay with him?

  That was why she’d wanted to talk with Sawyer last night. She couldn’t get the kiss out of her head. Had Sawyer felt something too? Or did he really just see her as Justin’s girlfriend? But she’d cheated on Justin. Was it right to keep that a secret?

  “Hey! Zoey!” Vance said.

  She jumped. “What?”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah. Sorry.” She shook away the thoughts of Justin, and Sawyer, and kisses.

  The music began, but singing about pain and revenge didn’t keep those thoughts away for long. Her voice sounded as confused and lifeless and lost as she felt. She forced out one song after the next, aware of Bailee’s glares, until the final chord ended another pathetic practice.

  “So you can only sing on stage?” Bailee asked.

  “You were really good on Saturday.” Cherie wrinkled her forehead, as if matching today’s singing with Saturday’s hurt her head.

  “Sorry. A lot’s on my mind.”

  “As long as she brings it on stage, who cares?” Vance put away his guitar and pulled Cherie off the couch. “C’mon. Let’s go upstairs.”

  Giggling, she scampered at his heels.

  Zoey followed them, not wanting to be stuck with Bailee.

  When she got outside, her phone beeped. She squinted against the sunlight and read the screen.

  Practice w me and S?

  How could she face Justin and Sawyer in the same room?

  Sorry. Busy.

  Her heart hadn’t ached this much since right after Mama died. How long would she be able to hide what happened if she couldn’t be around Sawyer? Justin wasn’t stupid. He also wasn’t the jealous type.

  Why couldn’t she forget it ever happened like Sawyer said? She walked down the street and fingered the beads on her necklace. Maybe she should tell Justin. His parents went through something much worse—an affair was way more serious than a kiss—and they’d worked things out. She and Justin couldn’t work things out if he didn’t know. But what if they ended up like Vance’s parents? Zoey would lose her best friend, her band, her everything. So would Justin.

  Mama, what advice would you give? Not that she’d have the courage to admit to Mama what she’d done, even if she could. Everyone loved Justin. She couldn’t tell anyone she’d cheated on him. She was stuck making that decision alone.

  16

  Waiting on My Deathbed

  Holding his drumsticks in one hand, Sawyer pulled his vibrating cellphone from his pocket for the third time and glared at the tiny screen. Band practice should not be interrupted. Too bad Mom made him keep the phone turned on.

  “Who keeps texting?” Justin asked. He plucked his guitar strings in the garage.

  “Felicia,” Sawyer muttered. He shoved it into his pocket without texting back.

  “You two dating?”

  “No!” Sawyer tapped his sticks against the snare.

  “You sure? You did go to the movies with her Monday.”

  “So? You and I go to the movies, and it’s not a date.”

  “But when Zoey and I go to the movies it is a date.”

  “It’s not a date if I go to the movies with Zoey.” He cursed silently. Why did he link himself with Zoey and dating? The one time he’d gone to the movies with just Zoey, Justin was supposed to be there too, but he’d canceled at the last minute.

  Sawyer drummed faster, louder.

  “That’s because she’s dating me.” Justin practically had to yell over Sawyer’s drumming.

  Sawyer hit the cymbals.

  “By the way, she’s coming over, so be nice.”

  “Here?” Sawyer’s muscles twitched. Being in the same ro
om with Zoey was worse than—his cell chimed with another text—worse than Felicia thinking they were dating.

  “Yeah. She’s coming over here.”

  The sound of an engine drifted into the open garage, and a few seconds later, Zoey’s green car parked by the curb.

  Sawyer’s phone chimed again to remind him of the ignored message.

  “I’ve gotta go.” His knee bumped a tom-tom. He cursed.

  “Don’t say that.” Justin’s rebuke carried the emotion of the sneeze-following “bless you.” “Why do you have to go?”

  Sawyer glanced out the door.

  Zoey walked up the driveway rolling her necklace between her fingers.

  He scrambled for a reason. “Felicia.”

  “You sure you’re not dating her?” Justin asked.

  “Sawyer’s dating?” Zoey stepped into the garage shoving her hands into her pockets. A mixture of relief and something Sawyer couldn’t identify crossed her face. “Who?”

  “Felicia,” Justin answered.

  “No, I’m not.” Sawyer clenched his teeth. “Actually, I think I’ll go home.”

  “OK.” Justin’s eyebrows drew together. He looked at Sawyer as though Sawyer had announced plans to join a folk band.

  Sawyer met Zoey’s gaze for an instant. Emotions Sawyer never wanted to understand swirled in her brown eyes. “Yeah, I’m going home.” He grabbed his bike off the lawn and pedaled away.

  ~*~

  Sawyer shoved open the screechy front door.

  Mom glanced over the back of the couch. “What are you doing home so early?”

  “Just am.” He headed for the fridge and chose one of the restaurant-leftovers containers. Chicken strips and fries, good to eat cold. He carried it to the couch.

  “But it’s only nine o’clock.” She glanced at him and then back at the TV. “Everything OK?”

  “Yep.” He popped a limp fry into his mouth.

  On the screen was some dating reality show. Mom laughed as one woman told off another.

  “I don’t get it,” Sawyer said. “Why be on the show if you get upset about the guy dating other women? They know that’s the whole point, right?”