Moving Neutral by Katy Atlas

Author:Katy Atlas [Atlas, Katy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sugarlaws LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

I couldn’t help but feel satisfied when Blake and I showed up at the show that night, holding hands, and I watched it register on April’s face. She looked like she’d swallowed a bug, her face going pale and cold. She didn’t make eye contact with Blake or me, just turned back to the television in the green room, where she was watching a commentator count down the twenty sexiest stars over forty.

Sophie, on the other hand, looked genuinely relieved. As soon as we were out of earshot of the others, she stopped me with one hand, drawing me into a side room near the stage.

Listen, you can’t take April seriously, she said.

It’s ok, I stopped her, feeling like I couldn’t discuss it for another second. Are you guys ready for the show? I asked, changing the subject.

Almost, she said. You’re going to love it tonight -- you actually have a seat.

I usually watched the shows from backstage, just beyond the side curtains, so no one would see me. There was never enough space, and half the time I’d end up sandwiched between amps or lighting fixtures that no one was using, trying not to trip over stray cables.

For this one, though, the seats usually reserved for the record label to give out -- like the ones Matt Andrews had gotten from his stepmom -- were only half claimed. Everyone had wanted to go to the bigger shows the nights before. Sophie told me that my seat was almost in the center of the front row, right in front of where Blake sat with a tan acoustic guitar.

The guitar, he had told me days ago, was his present to himself when he turned nineteen. Thinking about it made me remember that Blake’s twentieth birthday was coming up -- he’d mentioned it the first morning, in the bagel shop, and never since. But it would fall on the day of the New Orleans show, just over a week away.

And it would mean less than a month before I started school. That’s great, I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. I’ll sit down and get out of your hair -- good luck tonight.

Sophie walked back to the green room, and I found my way into the main arena, surprised at how small the venue was. I’d gotten so used to the bigger shows that it felt strange, right before the band went on, to be able to hear myself think.

My seat was next to Derek, the band’s manager, who smiled at me as I sat down in the chair that was marked with my name. I folded up the piece of paper that said Casey Snow, and slipped it into my pocket.

What time is it? I asked him, wishing for the thousandth time that I’d thought to bring a watch when I packed my overnight bag for the concert.

They’ll go on in ten minutes, he replied, guessing my question. How great is this? No opener.

The opening bands for the tour were always random local acts -- some were pretty good, some were mind-blowingly bad.

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