Ransom(30)
Karen turns off the GPS and insists Paige follow her phone’s directions to the hotel. We get there in less than ten minutes.
“We’d be in line already if you would have listened to me an hour ago,” Karen mutters as Paige parks.
Like the one we’d stayed in the night before, the hotel is nothing fancy, a little run down but clean. Paige booked us a room with two double beds and a roll-away cot.
“I’ll take the little bed tonight,” Paige offers, plopping her suitcase down on the thin mattress. “We should get ready and get over there.”
The girls start pulling out makeup bags and arguing over the shower schedule. Since I have no plans to change from my jeans and hoodie, I get out my phone to send a quick text to Daltrey.
We’re at the hotel. You should see the line outside the venue. Is it always like that?
He responds almost immediately. Duh. Haven’t you heard? I’m like, a huge star now.
My nervousness switches to excitement at the prospect of seeing him again. My mood has been doing this all week, flipping from scared to excited. It’s starting to feel like emotional whiplash.
My phone beeps again, and I look down. If your friends don’t mind, you guys could come backstage before the show. I’ll send Levi out to get you, so you don’t have to wait in line.
I look up at Karen and Paige, who are currently arguing over which shirts to wear. I grin. If your friends don’t mind. Yeah, right.
They’ll freak out, I text back. You just made me the most popular girl in the room.
LOL. I’m happy to help. See you around seven?
Great. Thanks, Daltrey.
No prob. Just look for Levi and text if you can’t find him. See you soon.
I slip my phone into my hoodie pocket. Paige and Karen have been so sweet about not mentioning meeting the band. I think they get how tenuous things were between Daltrey and me, and I’m sure they’re trying to make sure I don’t feel used. Knowing they aren’t just hanging out with me for my connection makes me happy, and sharing this news will be fun.
“Hey, guys,” I say casually. “Guess who I just talked to?”
They both look at me, their expressions blank.
“Who?” Paige asks,
“Oh, just Daltrey. He wanted to know if we’d like to meet the band before the show. I told him you guys probably weren’t interested.”
They both stare at me for a beat before all hell breaks loose.
“Oh. My. God!” Karen jumps up onto the bed. She holds her hands over her face as if she can’t bear to look at me. “Are you serious? Seriously? Oh, my God!”
Paige throws her arms around me. “You’re kidding, right? You didn’t actually tell him that? You didn’t, did you?”
I laugh, not even minding that she’s hugging me. “Of course not. He said to be there at seven.”
The screaming and laughter that follows is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. Karen and Paige jump around on the beds like maniacs.
Then, Paige grabs my hand and pulls me down on the bed with them, throwing an arm around me and squealing in my ear. “I’m so excited I think I peed a little!”
That sends us all into another giggling fit.
“Okay, okay, we need to calm down,” Karen says, sitting up and brushing back her hair. “This changes things. I thought we had plenty of time, but now…”
“True,” Paige says. “We have serious work to do.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, rolling over on my side to look at them.
“We have to get ready,” Paige says, as if it should be obvious.
“For what?”
They both stare at me.
“You’re joking, right?” Karen raises her eyebrows. “We have to get ready for the show. And if we’re actually meeting them”—she puts her hands up to her face and waves them around for a second—”our efforts need to be adjusted accordingly.”
“But… why?”
“Daisy, these are famous rock stars.” Paige’s tone is that of one explaining something very simple to someone very dim.
“Famous hot rock stars,” Karen adds.
Paige nods. “Yes, famous hot rock stars. We can’t go in there looking like we just got out of the car after a sixteen-hour drive.”
“But we did just get out of the car after a sixteen-hour drive.”
“Yes, but we don’t want them to see that,” Paige explains.
“We want to look hot for the hotties,” Karen says.
They walk over to their suitcases and begin throwing clothes all over the bed. After a moment, Paige glances over at me. “Well? Aren’t you going to pick out something to wear?”
I look down at my clothes: straight-legged jeans, black Chucks, and a black hoodie. “I’ll just wear this.”