"Are you doing OK?" asked Shelly from the passenger seat.
"For now."
"This is getting really scary," said Haley.
"Yeah, you're telling me." My voice cracked, and I wished I had bought a bottled water somewhere along the way. I thought back to the Towners, all comfortable in their hotel room. Maybe we should've stayed another night in our room. Or better yet, gotten a room at their hotel. Not that we could've afforded it.
"Rach, stay on the road!" Shelly slammed her hand on the glove compartment, bracing for impact.
I jumped and cranked the steering wheel too far and veered into the left lane. A car behind me honked.
"I'm fine! I'm fine!" I said. My voice sounded like it was being raked over a cheese grater.
"Rach, pull over," said Kim. "I don't want to die tonight."
"I'm awake. I'm good. I can't see anything, but I'm good. I just want to get us there." I placed my hands at 10 and 2 and squeezed the wheel again.
We didn't end up dying, but the drive took four hours instead of the two and a half it was supposed to. I did end up surrendering soon after my near-death experience, and Shelly took over driving from that point and got us to a hotel in Detroit. It was sometime after 3 a.m.
I dragged my duffel bag across the pavement to the hotel entrance. "Tell me we're not getting up in three hours to get in line again."
Haley and Alex were too tired to weigh in, but Shelly piped up. "No way. I'm fine with sleeping until checkout time." Even eleven o'clock seemed far too soon.
***
I awoke to the sun shining right in my eyes. In our stupor last night, we had forgotten to draw the heavy blackout curtains behind the sheer ones. I rolled over and looked at the clock just beyond Haley, who was asleep next to me. 7:26 a.m. You've got to be kidding me. Easing myself back onto the bed so as not to wake anyone else, I took the pillow out from under my head and held it over my face to block the light. But I couldn't fall back asleep even after what felt like an hour of trying. I must've drifted off because I awoke again to hear the shower running. 9:47. Haley was sitting up next to me with the TV remote in her hand, and the others were in different stages of consciousness.
This venue was easier to find than the one the night before, but it was in a much more questionable part of town. The brown brick buildings around us were run down with broken windows in some of them and bars over the windows that weren't in pieces. The bus was parked on the side of the venue with fans lined up on the sidewalk, making a path from the bus door to the stage door. Kim circled around the surrounding blocks looking for parking, but the whole vicinity was packed with cars. On our third circle a few blocks from the venue, we located a spot on the street next to a paid parking lot.
"What did that sign say?" I asked.
"Looked like it said 'No Parking,'" said Shelly. Haley and Shelly got out to look and came back to report. "Yeah, it says 'No Parking,' so I don't know why all these cars are here."
"You can park there!" The tan, wiry man inside the booth in the adjoining parking lot held up his hand to signal that it was OK.
"Are you sure?" I yelled back from inside our car.
"Yes. It's OK."
"Rach, you wanna parallel park?" asked Kim.
"Yeah, sure." I was pretty proud of my parallel parking prowess. Sometimes it took me two or three times to get in a spot, but I was still more confident doing it than anyone in the car. And the times when I pulled into a spot on the first attempt, the afterglow carried me through half the day. This time, it took me four tries. By the end of it, my friends were snickering at my misfortune.
"OK, OK, laugh it up."
As we joined the crowd by the bus, Randy was coming from the other direction, balancing a plate with a brownie on it on top of a travel coffee cup. He greeted the crowd as the girls parted for him. "Thanks for getting me a brownie," said someone in the crowd. Others tittered in response.
A few sprinkles left wet dots on my arm. "Not again." I shivered. The red halter top I had chosen to wear that day was doing nothing to keep the chill off. On the bottom, my black capris were doing what they could to soak up the little sunlight that shown between the raindrops and clouds. It was a weird combination of cold on top and a little overheated on the bottom. Gabe showed himself, but he shot right for the bus and right back without acknowledging anyone. I shrank back and wondered if he was still annoyed about us fans being at the hotel last night. Maybe going to the hotel wasn't such a great idea if they were going to hate us for it.
Someone nudged my shoulder, and I moved out of the way to find Bjorn edging his way between the tour bus and the huddle of girls. "Hey, Bjorn," I said.
He bobbed his head without lifting his eyes. I tapped the girl in front of me and pointed with my thumb to Bjorn and his guitar case trying to get by. One girl at a time, a path cleared for him, and he was able to reach the stage door. Quite the difference in reception between Bjorn and the Towners.
The next bit of excitement we got was when Harmony, Randy's girlfriend, popped out of the venue to retrieve something from the bus. The pretty and petite girl had her dark brown hair in a ponytail and was also wearing red and black like I was.
A fan standing right outside of the bus door intercepted her path and held out what looked like a journal. "Harmony, can you sign my notebook?" Her voice was deep and unnerving.
Harmony paused on her way back to the venue to appease the fan.
"What's it like dating Randy?" asked the fan.
Harmony giggled. "Um, I don't know. It's nice. I like it." She signed the journal and then continued back to the venue.
An hour or so later, which was about an hour before doors opened, the rain picked up. I hugged my arms and wished I had packed a jacket.
Haley was holding her own jacket over her head. "I think I have an umbrella in the car. Does someone want to go with me to check?"
"I'll go," said Kim.
The two Randy fans had gotten their fill, I guess, and they took off down the road to where we had left the car. Just as they left, Jacob darted out of the bus and waved to the random fans who yelled to him.
"Did you not have an umbrella after all?" I asked when Haley and Kim returned. Haley had a panicked look in her eyes.
"The car's gone!" Kim's voice reverberated against the brick surrounding us.
"What? Are you sure?"
Haley's eyes watered, and her frown deepened.
"Do you think it got stolen?" I asked.
Haley sniffed. "I don't know. But we have to go figure out what happened to it."
The fact that we'd be missing glimpses of our favorite guys didn't matter anymore. Our transportation home was gone, and we had to navigate this scary city without a car. If her car really was gone, there's no way any of our parents would let us leave the state again if they could stop us. Yes, we were all adults, but none of us were financially independent, and that's not a rug I wanted pulled out from under my feet.
We first checked the parking lot to see if the man who told us we could park there was still in his booth. He wasn't. Bastard. Then, we wandered in opposite directions on the road where we had been parked, reading each one of the signs. When we arrived, the road had been parked in—some cars parked a little too close to fire hydrants, some cars with their hoods or trunks jutting out into driveways and parking lot entrances. It was haphazard. Now, nothing. The parking lot was still full, but the streets were empty.
"Hey, I found a number on this sign." Shelly had her phone in hand and dialed the tow truck number she had found. The next step would be the police if that didn't pan out.
Shelly answered initial questions like what street we were parked on and tried to explain how this man had told us we could park there. When the questions got more specific, she handed the phone over to the hysterical, wide-eyed Haley, who was trembling but still hadn't let any tears fall yet.
When she handed the phone back to Shelly, she relayed the information to us. We needed $75 cash and had to
find our way to the impound lot to pick up the car. I gulped. I didn't have $75 in my checking account, so I hoped someone else did. We trudged back to the venue to see if they could help us call a cab. Some fans asked us what was wrong and pouted along with us and sympathized as we told our story. The lady working the box office took compassion on us and called the cab company. "They'll be here in 10 minutes."
Randy came out again, but we did little more than glance in his direction. I sat on the curb with my elbows on my knees while the rest of the girls stood, their eyes darting up and down the street in anticipation.
"Does anyone have cash for the cab?" asked Shelly.
We all dug into our purses and donated what we had to the cause not that any of us knew how much cab fare was supposed to be. My four friends squeezed into the back seat of the taxi while I grimaced and eased myself in the stale-smelling, musty front seat that looked like either coffee or urine had spilled on part of it. I told myself it was coffee.
"Where to?" asked the cabbie.
I shrugged and made a noncommittal sound. "Hey, Shell. Did you get that tow company address?"
"Yeah, it's 15577 Elm Street. In Detroit."
The drive took us 10.2 miles away from the venue according to the meter. I was sure the cabbie was ripping us off, though, the way he turned down random streets and passed street signs I was almost positive I had seen before. He pulled into a gravel driveway facing a fence. A hundred or so cars were parked on the other side of the fence. With the sun setting, I couldn't tell if Haley's car was among the hundred. A small shed not much bigger than the parking attendant booth stood adjacent to the fenced-in area.
"$35," said the cabbie.
Haley held up two 20s and whispered if that was enough. Alex bobbed her head to one side like she didn't know, so Haley handed it to the cabbie, and we all piled out before he had time to object or grumble.
The shack-like building contained nothing but a bench padded with red vinyl covering, a counter with the white speckled laminate peeling up at the corners, and a back area that overflowed with stacks of paper and office machinery. An impatient-looking woman with stringy gray hair and matching plastic gray glasses emerged from the back area. She pressed the cigarette she was holding into an ashtray on the counter and stood in front of a computer that had to be from the early '90s.
"What type of vehicle?"
Haley was about to fall apart, so I offered what I knew. "Honda...Civic. A white one."
"Year."
"Uhhhhh."
"98," said Haley in a whisper.
"Seventy-five dollars."
Haley forked over the cash. "There goes my merch money."
Shelly lay her hand on Haley's shoulder. "We can give you some money for the towing."
"Is the registration in the vehicle?"
Haley's teary eyes widened. "It should be."
Her father had been the driver's ed instructor when we were in high school, and in fact, he had been the one who had taught all of us how to drive. He must've been responsible enough to make sure his registration was put in his daughter's car.
The lady behind the counter picked up the phone and balanced it between her cheek and the shoulder of her black polo shirt. She muttered something into the phone and then hung it up again. "He's bringing it around. We can't release the car until we see the registration."
When her car came into view, Haley exited the building as if she was going to her execution. I was optimistic the paperwork was in her car until minutes passed and she still sat rustling through her glove compartment.
"This is not looking good," I said to no one in particular. When Haley returned empty handed, my optimism disappeared. This time, tears streaked her cheeks, and her mascara left black marks underneath her eyes.
"We can't release the car without the registration. Too many people trying to take cars that don't belong to them," repeated that cursed, unfeeling lady.
"We get it," said Kim. This time, I was thankful for her 'take no crap' attitude. Then, her tone softened. "Haley, do you want to call your parents? Maybe they can do something."
Haley sniffed and put the phone that was clutched in her hand up to her ear. Shelly and I sank into the bench, which whistled as the air displaced from where we sat. Tough Alex and Kim remained standing—both of their eyes watering then.
Haley pleaded with her parents to locate the registration and then find a fax machine to get it to us. I could almost hear her dad's raised voice on the other end. I couldn't imagine her parents yelling—they were just as mild-mannered as she was—but he was as close to yelling as he probably ever got. Then, I thought I heard a hysterical female's voice. Her mom must've been on the other house phone. Haley took her phone away from her ear and stared at it, wiping her eyes with her fingers. "My dad's faxing it over."
"We've missed half the show," said Alex.
Haley's lip quivered like she was going to lose it again. "I know. I was thinking that, too."
As the only one somehow not crying, I offered to drive back to the venue in an attempt to catch what we could of the rest of the show. I found a different place to park, which cost us $5, but at least I knew it was legal. Hurrying inside, we followed the music and were greeted by a throng of screaming fans. We hit it just at the beginning of the encore. Three songs is what we saw of the Detroit show—and two of those songs were my least favorite from the set. The last was a quick a capella ditty, and then the guys were gone, and we dragged our heels to the exit.
"I almost thought it was going to be gone again," I said when the car was in view.
"Too soon, Rach," said Haley.
"Sorry."
Back at the hotel, our exhausted, agitated selves could not agree on a time to get going in the morning. A couple of us, myself included, wanted to leave at six o'clock so that we didn't get home too late. Shelly was scheduled to work the next night, and I just wanted to wind down and maybe get some reading in before my morning class. Kim disagreed and made sure we knew it.
"Call in to work sick. My cousin died in a car crash, and might I remind you that we almost died in a car crash last night driving in that rain."
"It's not supposed to rain tomorrow, and as long as it's sunny, I'll be fine."
"That's what you said last night."
"Kim, drop it. You're not the only one who's ever lost someone." My eyes welled up, the emotions of the day finally catching up with me, and I dwelled on every tragedy in my life, including potential future ones. I didn't want to bring it up to the girls, but my mom had called me earlier to tell me that my grandmother, my dad's mom, had been admitted to the hospital. She had lung cancer, and the prognosis didn't look good. I sobbed and stuck my head in a pillow so that no one would hear. Shelly, whom I was sharing a bed with that night, rubbed my back as my shoulders heaved. We didn't come to a resolution that night, but no one set alarms either.
***
The next evening, after a quiet but uneventful drive, I was back in my messy bedroom in our apartment, and the goings on of my meet-n-greet two nights before seemed like a dream. I had met my favorite band. It had been awkward but OK. The most shocking realization to me was that Randy was now my favorite member even though I'd always have eyes for Gabe. I never expected Randy to be so nice. My business law book was still on the floor where I tossed it four days earlier, and I flopped down on my bed instead of picking up the book. Homework could wait a little longer. I had time.
Chapter 4: Milwaukee
The next time I opened my eyes to peek at the clock on Tuesday morning, the red, boxy numbers, blurry from my lack of sleep, read 9:55. I groaned. Business law class had started 25 minutes ago. Too late now. I rolled over and fell asleep for another hour. When I arose, I showered and got ready for work. I rolled into the bank with wet hair and some remnants of leftover eye makeup from Sunday night, but I hid out in the drive-up window all day and let my mind wander. I spent my five-hour shift planning outfits for the upcoming concerts. I shouldn't buy any new clothe
s. I really had to work with what I had. At the end of the day, I clocked out and made sure I had off Saturday of that week.
***
Saturday afternoon, I met up with the girls at the venue du jour. That's French. The only class I was doing well in this semester. Bien sûr. Tonight was our hometown show in Milwaukee.
Instead of waiting outside in the long line that was forming, we ventured next door to McDonald's to hang out and grab some food. As I stood in line behind Kim, a familiar man waited for his order nearby. I jabbed her in the back. She yelped. "Isn't that the Towners' tour manager or something? I saw him in Detroit."
Alex heard the conversation. "Yes, it is, but don't be so obvious."
We each ordered and moved next to the man still waiting for his food. "You girls going to The Out of Towners show tonight?"
"Yep."
"Can we expect to see you there?" asked Shelly, playing the cute, flirty girl card.
"Oh, I'll be there, but I'll be on the bus most of the time."
Alex's blue eyes glittered up at the man. "The bus. What's that like?"
"It's wild. It's a good time. You would like it."
I kept quiet and let Shelly and Alex charm the figurative pants off of the man better than I ever could, but Kim took a more direct approach. "Could you let us on the bus?"
Alex shot her a look that Kim didn't notice.
"I don't know about that. I can't just let anyone on the bus."
Kim cocked her hip. "We're not just anyone." I averted my eyes and took a step away from the group. It was getting embarrassing, and I couldn't bear to watch.
"I bet you're not." I couldn't tell if the man was annoyed or amused. "Tell you what. I can't let you on the bus tonight, but I can tell you we're going out to the bar called Milo's tonight. If you wanna hang out after the show, we can have some fun."
I knew we were all thinking, "Only if the Towners are there," but no one voiced it. I waited for Alex or Shelly to answer since he was most interested in their presence.
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