“Who’s playing tonight?” I ask as a pushy crowd herds us toward the bar.
“Chris Knight. It’s a secret performance for his local fans.”
Senia and I look at each other and she immediately throws her arm around my shoulder to pull me aside. Eddie and Adam look on from a few yards away in confusion as she presses me up against a wall and gets in my face.
“You can’t freak out, Claire, or he’s going to know. He’s going to know that Chris is your ex and it will all be downhill from there. No guy wants to find out their girlfriend used to be with a fucking rock star. Don’t freak out.”
My heart pounds against my chest, probably dying to get away from the oncoming musical assault. I can barely listen to his songs when they come on the radio or MTV. There is no way I’ll make it through an entire concert of his music while standing just a few feet away from him.
“Are you seriously implying I need to endure the next three hours of torture? No! I want out of here. What if he sees me?”
“Claire?”
The sound of Joanie Tipton’s lazy drawl makes my skin prickle.
“Claire, is that you?”
I turn to my right and Joanie is with Christa Monk and Veronica Evers. I don’t know if Joanie has shared my secret with her two best friends, but the bored looks on their faces tells me she probably hasn’t. My mind flashes quickly to two days after Joanie saw me in the hospital—the day I finally worked up the nerve and energy to go to Joanie’s dorm and beg her not to tell anybody. The truth was, I really didn’t care what Joanie or any of her cronies thought about me. I just didn’t want it to get back to Chris.
“Joanie,” I say, trying to keep my voice level.
“You’re here to see Chris? Are you two back together?”
Christa and Veronica’s eyes widen at this revelation.
“No, we’re not. I was actually just leaving.”
Senia grabs my arm. “No, we’re not. We’re just getting some drinks. Today’s Claire’s twenty-first birthday.”
She casts Joanie a deadly look, daring her to fuck up my birthday. Joanie sighs, already bored with us, when Adam appears at my side.
“Are you okay, babe?” he asks, and Joanie’s eyes light up at the sight of him.
“I’m fine.”
I can’t leave now. Joanie is bound to run onto the stage and scream my secrets into the microphone if we’re not here to stop her. And she’d love to point out to Chris that I’m here with someone else—not that he’d care. I’m sure he’s moved on—many times.
“I think I need a drink,” I say, looking up at Adam.
He scrunches his eyebrows together. “Are you sure?”
I nod. It’s about the only thing I’m sure of right now.
“Enjoy the show, Joanie,” I say as I push Adam toward the bar.
I don’t want to introduce him to Joanie. The last thing I need is for her to pretend she’s drunk so she can accidentally spill some secrets like she did at Senia’s birthday party our freshman year—before I knew Joanie was only pretending to be my friend so she could get close to Chris.
Adam orders us both a beer then glares at me as he leans up against the bar. “Something’s wrong.”
The impulsive side of my brain is screaming at me to just tell him. This night is going to suck whether I tell him or not. The rational side of my brain is begging me to keep my mouth shut. I finally have someone who makes me feel happy; someone who might understand the mistakes I’ve made if I tell him in a more neutral environment. This is definitely not the place to come clean.
“I’m fine. I’m just really excited.” I take a swig of the beer, which is bitter and kind of gross compared to the sweet champagne.
The sound crew finishes setting up the instruments on stage and I can feel the anticipation building in the crowd.
“Let’s go see if we can squeeze in closer to the stage,” he says, grabbing my hand.
“No!” Senia and I shout in unison.
Adam and Eddie glare at us.
“We should stay next to the bar in case Claire wants to get shitfaced for her birthday,” Senia says.
“Yeah, I may want to get shitfaced.”
Adam shakes his head. “You are not getting drunk tonight.”
“It’s my birthday and I’m twenty-one. I think that’s my decision, buddy.”
He frowns at me. He knows something is up. I’m not acting like myself. I set the glass of beer on the counter and flag the bartender down to ask him for some water.
Adam leans close to me, puts his lips next to my ear, and whispers, “Do you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”