But now it looked like I was going to have to figure out how to move forward and start to live a real life without her. I turned over on my side and punched the pillow. Suddenly, the curtain on my bunk slid back.

Dizzy poked his spiky head into the gap. “You awake, man?”

“Yeah.” I pulled my earbuds out. “How is she?” I asked even though I knew I had no right, even though I knew I should cut the fucking cord already.

“She’s in a good place, all things considered,” Dizzy whispered. After a glance behind him, he continued. “Listen, why aren’t you answering your cell? She’s been trying to call you. She wants to talk to you before she gets transferred to the rehab facility.”

I shrugged, noncommittally.

“Are you gonna be ok?” Dizzy scratched his head as he studied me.

“Yeah, just too many hours awake I guess.”

“Alright. If you say so.” Dizzy didn’t look entirely convinced. “Here’s the number at the hospital anyway.” He handed me a piece of paper. The number on it was in her handwriting. “Call her, ok? She really wants to talk to you.”

Without waiting for a response, Dizzy slid the curtain back into place and once more I was alone with only my thoughts to torture me. I flipped onto my back and stared without blinking at the silver ceiling of the bus for so long my vision blurred. I wanted to hear that beautiful voice of hers, but what would that accomplish? What was left for her to say? Nothing I wanted to hear, I was sure.

I crumpled the note in my fist and tossed it at my feet.

I stared out the window, watching the sunrise above the clipped hedge that lined the perimeter of Second Chances. Outside I could hear the fountain softly gurgling, but inside a torrent of conflicting emotions raged within me. I’d been able to keep my mind occupied while I filled out reams of admission paperwork, met the staff and been shown to my quarters. But now I was alone, overwhelmed, and adrift. I longed for a shot of something to numb the pain. It would be so much easier to escape into the drugs than to face what lay before me.

Why hadn’t he called? I’d delayed the transfer for over an hour hoping to hear something from him. Anything. A dark wave of emptiness crashed over me, leaving me hollow in its wake. This was even worse than that morning after prom.

Because now wasn’t a backup plan.

There was no one waiting in the wings to help. The one I’d always counted on to catch me when I fell was ominously absent and silent.

And I had no one to blame but myself. I’d pushed him away one too many times. I sank back onto the mattress and lay down on my side, the polyester comforter scratchy against my wet cheek.

This time I was truly on my own.

29

I glared poisoned daggers at War’s back as he walked offstage after our lackluster performance at Miami’s American Airlines Arena. My former best friend and I were no longer on speaking terms. If it wasn’t so pathetically sad, it would almost be comical, the way we communicated now using other people as intermediaries. Though it hadn’t been too much of a problem during the Miami sound check, it had been a big problem during the concert. It was really fucking hard to hit your cues when your lead singer wouldn’t make eye contact.

After the encore, Dizzy had cursed up a storm and stomped off stage with the latest groupie in tow. From their position against the far wall, King and Sager were continuing to cast dubious glances my way as they conversed with a couple of roadies. Watching War with his arms thrown around a couple a women did nothing to improve my foul mood. How could he do that to Lace when he’d just told her he loved her? Apparently two weren’t enough for our Tempest front man either. He crooked his finger to get the attention of a brunette whose blouse was so low cut I could see her nipples.

I took another drag on my cigarette as War started making out with all three of them.

Asshole.

So intent was my focus that I practically jumped out of my skin when I felt someone lay a hand on my arm. My gaze swept over the curvy form of an ebony haired beauty as her black finger nails traced a line to the center of my bare chest.