Along for the Ride by Katrina Abbott

Author:Katrina Abbott [Abbott, Katrina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Over The Cliff Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

After Dave finished up and took his bow while the crowd went nuts, the guys all came out to mingle with the students, which, in retrospect, may not have been the best idea, considering how they immediately got swarmed. But one look at their faces and it was obvious they were totally into it, drinking up the love and enthusiasm from their legions of brand new fans.

“That didn’t take long,” Linda said from beside me, her arms crossed as she watched like a mother, worried about the swarms of girls. It was kind of cute how protective she got sometimes. “At least they seem to be enjoying themselves.”

What guy wouldn’t? Although, as I glanced at Max, frowning and stiff as people surrounded him, he reminded me of a cornered animal. Hopefully, my dad or someone would swoop in and save him before he came out fighting.

“For now,” Ginny replied. “Just wait; it’ll get old fast and then they’ll be begging for the quiet of their green rooms and the bus.”

“When did you get so cynical?” Dad asked with a laugh. “Let them have their fun. We won’t be able to let fans have this kind of access once we’re on tour, so they may as well soak it up now. It’ll build their confidence.”

Ginny just humphed. I’d never known her to be so pessimistic—maybe it was lack of sleep thanks to her twins.

“And anyway,” Dad went on. “You know as well as I do that performers never lose the rush that comes from a crowd of adoring fans. The stuff that can come along with fame, sure, but the high of performing? You never lose that.” He nodded toward the guys, and no one could argue that they weren’t enjoying the attention. Except Max, but he’d edged himself away a little and looked slightly less clenched, so maybe he was warming to the idea of being adored.

Dave definitely had the biggest crowd around him, his Westwood buddies thumping him on the back and offering congratulations, the Rosewood girls (many who had probably always had something of a crush on him) angling to get close.

Already a star, Andres was also surrounded by a throng of mostly female fans as he signed some shirts, hands, and arms, and even one bare shoulder, until the eagle-eyed Dean Haywood rushed over and intervened.

“Uh oh,” Dad said as he noticed the dean close in, leaving my side to make his way over to do some damage control and surely remind Andres about signing protocol. Probably in his former life, signing questionable body parts was standard operating procedure. Not so for guys under Dad’s wing.

The other guys weren’t starved for attention, either. I expected to see Sandy right in there with the other giggling and googly-eyed Rosewood girls, but a moment later, she came up to me from the side of the room, handing me a cold can of soda.

“I’m surprised you’re not fangirling,” I said, taking the can and opening it before taking a swig. The soda was too cold, fizzing up my nose.

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