Ransom

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Ransom Page 9

by Rachel Schurig


  They also applied my makeup. I never thought I’d be the type of person to wear body glitter, but Paige assured me it was more like a shimmer and it looked good.

  Karen, however, put her foot down when Paige tried to put her trademark candy-red lipstick on me. “That’s not you,” Karen told me firmly. She stepped in with a darker, brownish-pink that I much preferred.

  “Daisy, come on,” Paige says, pushing me gently toward the door. “I need to finish my makeup. Just go get dressed.”

  I walk out into the room, crossing my fingers. Paige is dressed in black leather pants and a skin-tight hot-pink tank top with leather boots up to her knees. Karen, on the other hand, is wearing a little black tank dress that’s so tight I’m not sure how she can move. I warned Paige that I’m not that bold, but she assured me it’d be fine.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when I see her choices. Laid out on the bed are a pair of short black shorts, a baggy purple tank top, and a black vest. The shorts are a lot shorter than I’m used to, but otherwise, the outfit’s not that bad. I slip into the clothes and check the mirror. I definitely look as though I could fit in with the girls we saw at the venue, but I don’t feel too overdone, either. Then I look down at my bare arms, and my stomach sinks. I plop down on the edge of the bed, tears in my eyes, seconds away from a full out panic attack.

  Paige comes out a few minutes later “What’s wrong? You don’t like it? We can find you something else!”

  I shake my head. I’m having trouble getting my breathing under control. I hear the blow dryer come on in the bathroom. I try to focus on the noise. Sometimes that helps.

  “You’re okay, Daisy,” Paige says, her voice soothing. “Everything is fine.”

  “It’s not,” I gasp out. “I can’t wear this. I can’t wear any… anything without…” I hold up my arms, wanting her to understand. “I need sleeves.”

  Her face clouds in confusion. “What do you mean? You have great arms—” Her eyes widen.

  She’s quiet for a moment, and the panic redoubles in my chest. I don’t want her to know, I don’t want anyone to know, and I really, really need her to stop looking at me.

  “No biggie,” she suddenly says, standing up. “I have just the thing.”

  She casually walks to her bag as if she hasn’t just discovered my biggest secret and roots through it. I stare at her back, totally shocked by her reaction. When she turns around, she’s holding something small and black. Her face is kind, unworried. I see no pity or fear or disgust there.

  “Here we go,” she says, sitting next to me again.

  She gently takes my hand and pulls it onto her lap, leaning over slightly so she can snap the leather cuff around my wrist. The cuff is black and imprinted with swirling designs. A delicate black braiding is laced around the edges. It’s perfect, the kind of thing I could wear every day if I wanted. She snaps a matching one on my other wrist. Best of all, they completely cover the jagged scars.

  “Better?” she asks.

  I look up at her, overwhelmed and so grateful.

  Her smile fades, replaced by a fierceness in her eyes I’ve never seen before. “I’m so glad you’re here, Daisy,” she says quietly.

  I know in my heart she doesn’t just mean here with them in Boston. I nod, my throat full of tears, and her smile returns.

  I’ve spent so much time ashamed of those scars, of what they said about me. Now, looking at my bare arms adorned with Paige’s jewelry, I feel a weight lift from my chest. Something shifts inside me, some awareness of myself and my own strength. She starts to get up, and I grab her hand—the first time I’ve willingly initiated contact with another person since the day my father had me admitted to Horizons Recovery Hospital.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, hoping she knows how big a thank you it is, how many kindnesses it covers. I had come to think of all humans as cruel, as calculating and selfish, to be feared and never trusted. Then I met Paige. It’s not every day someone so completely restores your faith in humanity.

  Paige flashes her now-familiar cheery smile. “You’re very welcome.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Daltrey

  I’m pretty sure I’m going to kill my dad. Or maybe I’ll quit the band or punch one of my brothers. I have to do something because I’m starting to feel as though I’m going crazy. It’s now six forty-five, fifteen minutes before I’m supposed to meet Daisy, and we’re still in this interview in the green room—an interview my father promised me would be cancelled. He either forgot or straight-up lied. Either way, it’s looking as though I’m not going to be seeing Daisy before the show.

  I step away from the interviewer and motion to Levi out on the stage. Cash is talking, so I figure I’m okay, though Reed shoots me a death glare.

  “What’s up, man?” Levi asks.

  “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure. I was just going to head out to look for Daisy and her friends. Seven, right?”

  I shake my head, the anger swelling in my chest. “Yeah, about that. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get away before the show. Can you take her and her friends to the dressing room and make sure they have food and stuff to drink?”

  “Sure, dude. No problem.”

  I look at my watch again. “Shit. And if I don’t get back there in an hour, take them to the reserved seats upstairs, okay?”

  “On it.”

  Levi heads out, and I return to my brothers, smiling apologetically at the reporter while I seethe inside.

  I’ve been looking forward to this show for the past week, ever since Daisy called to confirm that she was, in fact, coming to see me. Strangely, after that call, I started sleeping better. The old nightmare, the one where she was hurt somewhere and I couldn’t find her, hasn’t returned all week. Not having to worry about what happened to her when she disappeared from my life lifted a weight from my shoulders that I barely noticed I was carrying.

  I was angry when I got her email, really ticked off. The fact that she didn’t even realize how much she had put me through truly ticked me off. And I’m still mad now… a little.

  But my desire to see her far outweighs my anger. As the day went on, my nerves ratcheted up notch by notch, until I was pretty much a seething mess of anxiousness—not the best state of mind for a show. And then I was hit with this stupid interview.

  I concentrate on taking deep breaths through my nose when the questions aren’t directed at me. I could answer most of these in my sleep. I would think the reporters could get a little more creative than the constant rumination about our influences, or how we got our names. Seriously, how is it not obvious that we were named after musicians? My brother’s name is Lennon, for God’s sake.

  Sure enough: “Reed, you and your brothers have some interesting names. Could you tell me a little bit how you got them?”

  I want to scream, but Reed only nods seriously, as if this is the first time someone ever asked. “Well, Jeffery, my dad always knew he wanted his kids to respect the musical greats he grew up loving. So we were named after those he considers to be some of the most influential musicians of all time—Johnny Cash, Lou Reed, John Lennon, and Roger Daltrey. I guess you could say music was part of our fate since the day we were born.”

  Everyone chuckles good-naturedly, and I struggle not to roll my eyes. Reed is really good at this whole public eye thing. I wish he could just handle all the interviews. Cash shoots me a pissed-off look, and I know I’m pushing it. The reporter can probably read my antagonism from a mile away. I shake my head, trying to get it together, before the interviewer turns to me for the next question. Maybe if I can get through this with a smile on my face, he’ll leave us alone, and I’ll have time to see Daisy.

  At seven thirty, Dad finally comes over to cut off the interview. The opener is going on soon, and the noise from the crowd outside is starting to pick up. I turn toward the back hall, intending to try and catch Daisy before Levi takes her to the seats, but I’m stopped by my father’s hand on my arm
.

  “You need to get it together,” he says in a low voice. He doesn’t sound mad, just serious. “There’s a lot riding on the press for this tour.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” I yank my arm away and continue to the door.

  “I mean it, Daltrey,” he calls after me. I resist the urge to flip him off.

  My heart sinks when I reach the dressing room. She’s not there. Levi must have already taken them to their seats. I curse the interviewer, my father, and every one of my brothers as I sink into one of the couches. At least none of them are in here, and I have a little privacy.

  “Sorry, Levi,” a familiar voice says from outside the door. She sounds out of breath. “I think I left it right by the…”

  She trails off as she enters the room and catches sight of me. For a long moment, we just stare at each other in silence.

  Finally, I clear my throat and stand. “Daisy.”

  Her hand comes up to her mouth. She looks off balance, almost shocked. I shove my trembling hands into my pockets and resist the urge to go to her, grab her arms, touch her.

  Before either of us can say anything else, Levi appears behind her in the doorway. “Did you find it?” He catches sight of me across the room and seems to freeze, his expression almost annoyed, before his normal smile reappears. “Hey, man. Daisy left her purse. I take it you guys are finished?”

  I nod, my eyes back on Daisy. I want Levi to go; I want the crowd beyond the green room to disappear. I want to be alone somewhere with the girl in front of me, away from all the people who are constantly trying to get at me. I don’t know what I would do if we were alone, though the idea of hugging her sounds pretty good. All I know is that I wish it was just me and Daisy, even if only for a few minutes. I’ve missed her even more than I ever realized.

  Levi’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of us. “Uh… sorry, guys, but we really should go if we want to get you back to your seat. The opener is about to start, and I have a bunch of work to do.” He looks at me uncertainly. “Unless you want someone else to take her out?”

  I hear loud voices in the hallway—my brothers. The sound shakes me from my daze. “No, you’re right. I’ll walk with you.”

  Levi leads us out into the chaotic hallway, darting around roadies and God knows who else to clear a path. I fall into step next to Daisy, who seems to be concentrating very hard on her feet. She’s wearing ankle boots with heels, a far cry from her usual Converse. In fact, her entire outfit looks very un-Daisy-like. She’s in some tank-top-and-vest combo that actually looks kind of rock and roll. And shorts—really, really short shorts. I realize I’m staring at her legs, and I swallow and look up at her face.

  “It’s good to see you,” she says softly, her eyes still aimed at the floor.

  “You too.” I want to take her hand but settle for brushing my fingers over her forearm. She visibly shivers. “We’ll talk after the show, okay? You guys will come back?”

  “That sounds great.”

  We’ve reached the end of the hall. Levi stops a few discrete feet away, and she finally looks up at me.

  I feel my breath hitch in my chest. I’ve known that I loved Daisy since we were fourteen years old. I’ve spent hours watching her when she didn’t realize my eyes were on her. I know her face better than my own. But in the past year, as fear turned to anger then anger to resentment, I wondered if maybe that love had broken, if maybe I would see her one day and she would actually be unfamiliar to me.

  I realize it was stupid to doubt something so elemental as my feelings for her. As I look down at Daisy in the crowded hallway, hundreds of miles away from home, months since I’ve last spoken to her, I realize that my love is every bit as strong as it ever was.

  And this time, I’m going to do something about it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Daisy

  I feel strangely numb as Levi leads me back to my seat. Seeing Daltrey like that, so unexpectedly, has rendered me mute. I stumble a bit as we make our way into the private box situated in a far corner of the balcony.

  Levi steadies me with a hand on my back. “You okay?” he yells into my ear. The opener has just started their set, and the crowd below us is ramping up into a frenzy.

  “Yeah!” I respond, thankful that Levi is here. I’m not sure I would have made it through the last hour without him.

  He settles me in my seat and squeezes my shoulder before heading off to do whatever pre-show jobs he has to complete.

  “You get it?” Paige yells, and I hold up my purse. She smiles and turns back to the stage.

  Finally free from anyone’s attention, I sit back in my seat in the dark theater and take deep breaths. The night was already a rollercoaster of emotion before I even saw Daltrey. From the excitement and nervousness while we got ready to my horror at Paige discovering my secret, I was on shaky ground before we even got here. Then my excitement ramped up at the idea of seeing my old friend—only to crash down again when I instead came face to face with Levi.

  He found us outside by the Will Call box. His face lit up at the sight of me, and I couldn’t help but grin back, my nervousness abated slightly. I’ve always loved Levi.

  “Girl, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. I stiffened slightly, a habit I was sure would take a long time to break, and he released me quickly, giving me an appraising look. “Where the hell have you been?”

  I shrugged. “School, life. How’s it been going?”

  “Well, besides for the fact that you’ve left me completely alone to deal with all the drama of the Ransome boys, pretty good, I guess.”

  I laughed. “Break up any fights between Cash and Reed lately?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”

  I remembered that Paige and Karen were next to me and turned to introduce them. “Guys, this is Levi, roadie and band assistant extraordinaire. Levi, this is Paige and Karen.”

  After shaking hands with the girls, Levi turned back to me. “So I kind of have bad news.”

  My stomach sank. Daltrey must have decided he was too pissed to see me after all.

  “The boys are in an interview. Dalt isn’t sure if it will be over in time to meet up before the show.” Paige’s and Karen’s expressions fell, but Levi continued. “So he asked me to bring you back to the dressing room. There’s food and stuff back there. If he hasn’t showed his ugly mug before the show starts, I’ll take you out to your seats and come find you at the end so you can see him later. Okay?”

  “That sounds great, Levi,” I said. “Thank you so much.”

  “Just following orders.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, like any of those boys would dare boss you around.”

  When Levi led us into the building, I noticed both Karen and Paige sneaking glances at me, but I ignored them. I couldn’t be thinking about seeing the boys and worrying about Karen and Paige at the same time.

  Levi took us through the lobby, behind an inconspicuous door, and down several more winding hallways until we finally reached what appeared to be the backstage area. People were milling about, some rushing around with pieces of equipment or clipboards. I thought I saw a few scantily clad blondes being shepherded into another room, and I tried very hard not to think about what that might mean.

  The dressing room was spacious and comfortable with a stereo pumping out some classic rock that I knew Mr. Ransome favored. Levi stayed and told us stories from on the road, which Karen and Paige totally ate up. I enjoyed myself quite a bit and even forgot to be scared. But still, Daltrey didn’t show up.

  With a mixture of relief and disappointment, I followed Levi out to our seats. Karen and Paige went on and on about how great the view was, how happy they were that we weren’t down in general admission with the masses that had apparently been let in during our time backstage. I didn’t realize I’d forgotten my purse until after we sat down. I felt bad, knowing Levi was busy, but he only smiled and ushered me back to the dressing room. />
  To Daltrey.

  I just stared at him, shocked, until we were somehow back in the hallway. I couldn’t tell if he was mad or hurt or annoyed that I was looking at him like a fish gasping for air. All I could think was how beautiful he looked, how much I had missed him, and how I wanted him to wrap me in his arms and help me find my way back to a place where things made sense again.

  Instead, we had said goodbye at the end of the hallway, with promises to meet up after the show, and Levi took me back to Karen and Paige.

  “They’re pretty good!” Karen yells.

  It takes me a second to realize that she’s talking about the opener. I force my eyes back to the stage. They do seem pretty good, but for all I care in that moment, they could be a polka band.

  When they leave the stage, I’m surprised. How had so much time passed already? Because you’ve been mooning over Daltrey. I feel as if every nerve, every muscle is tensed for his arrival on stage. My desire to see him again is becoming a physical ache. This feels so familiar, sitting in a darkened theater, waiting for Ransom to take the stage. How many times have I done this? Dozens, probably.

  There’s a break of about twenty minutes after the opener finishes. Karen and Paige occupy the time by using the restroom, checking on their makeup, and talking ad nauseam about how excited they are and what songs they hope to hear. I think they can both tell that I’m not really in a chatting mood, because they mostly leave me alone.

  Finally, the break is over. The lights dim before cutting off completely, plunging us into complete darkness. The crowd roars. Anticipation and excitement are heavy in the air, along with that unnamed sensation of a mass of people being so totally in sync, of every brain and heart in the room waiting for and wanting the same thing in the same moment.

 

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