It was all academic. Sitting in my apartment in Indiana, I’d never had to make that decision.
Jo was about to change that.
She took a step away, but turned back, nose scrunched adorably. “Hey, Layla, maybe you could come over for dinner tonight.”
She was speaking English, but nothing she said was computing. “You want me to come to your house.”
“I know how hard it is to be alone in a new place. And honestly, I could really use the company.”
My eyes continued to blink, but my mouth couldn’t formulate an appropriate response. My brain was busy screaming, “Worlds collide!”
Part of me—the one that spent too much time creeping on these people—urged me to jump at Jo’s invitation and see what her life was really like.
Another part of me—the fan forum admin—balked at even considering this invasion of her privacy.
A third deeper, darker part of me—the one that hid online behind a fake persona—wanted to retreat to my empty hotel room and catch up on a day’s worth of fan forum chatter that was already piling up. I’d been cramping all day, thanks to a particularly painful period that was mercifully coming to an end, and the idea of burrowing under covers alone in my jammies with a hot cup of cocoa appealed to me a lot.
Online, people thought I was cool and connected. Online, I could delete my social gaffes.
But when would I ever have a chance like this again?
So I stood there debating with myself, probably with my jaw agape, drool threatening to spool over my dumbstruck lower lip until Jo nudged me. “Well? I promise we’re not ax murderers. Micah’s not supposed to be home until tomorrow, so it would be just the two of us. You’d like Micah, I’m sure. You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”
“No.” I still wasn’t sure if that was an answer to her first or last question.
“Then it’s settled.” She grabbed a pen and scrawled down a number on a Post-it. “Here’s my cell. Give me a call when you’re ready to leave work. I have something to do downtown, but I can swing back up and fetch you. Okay?”
As I stuck the Post-it to the back of my phone, frequent scene of my crimes, I vowed I wouldn’t break her trust or treat her like an exhibit at the zoo.
Talking Disaster Forum
Topic: Other Bands - Whiplash - Tours - Spring Fling - DC - Page 6
Hipster101 wrote:
I’ll have more pictures to post later. And Jayhawk was there. I think he shot some video.
Jayhawk wrote:
Yeah I shot the whole show. Trippy to see Theater of the Absurd opening last night.
Sailor8 wrote:
Ooh, @Hipster - any pictures of Micah or Noah? *Fingers crossed*
Hipster101 wrote:
*eye roll* I took pictures of the band, yes. They aren’t Glamour Shots.
Jayhawk wrote:
Were any of you around back when Walking Disaster opened for Whiplash? And now Theater of the Absurd is . . . I predict big things.
Insidious wrote:
@Jayhawk - Yeah, but one of these things is not like the other. Of those three bands, one’s not touring . . .
Pumpkin39 wrote:
For good reason, Sid.
DeadFan wrote:
Adam’s staying home with the baby after all!
Sailor8 wrote:
Hey @Pumpkin39, do you have any secret insider knowledge about the next tour?
Pumpkin39 wrote:
As if. I wish I did. I’ll know as soon as you know.
Jayhawk wrote:
Can we get back to the Whiplash tour? Did you hear about some tension between the bands? There were some rumors that something went down after the show involving Noah possibly.
Chapter Two
Just as I was beginning to think I’d imagined the manager who’d interviewed me over Skype, Byron rolled in and ushered me into a conference room where he introduced me to the team: a couple of guys who identified themselves as Ajit and Dave. I quickly discovered I didn’t corner the market on social awkwardness. Dave barely made eye contact with me, and Ajit snort-laughed when I dorkily blurted something about having a case of the Mondays.
Joining a team of developers at a rock music magazine should have been the most thrilling and intimidating part of my day. I was a self-taught programmer, hired to propose new functionality for others to code, and I worried the legit geeks would ferret out all my technical blind spots.
But my awe at meeting Josie overshadowed the excitement of a new job, and since it soon became apparent that I didn’t have enough knowledge yet to follow along, I began to daydream about the pending dinner with Jo. Would we gossip about the workplace? Would she share secrets about Micah?
Before long, Byron asked if anyone had anything else, then dismissed us with a last request to Ajit to show me how to set up my workspace. An hour later, I had my laptop, some basic software, and a connection to the Internet.
Ajit said, “Don’t worry. It always takes time to ramp up. We’ll have you walking through code in no time.”
A frisson of joy passed through me, and I didn’t bother to correct his assumption that I’d been hired as a developer.
I itched to jump on the forum to share my incredible morning. The fans were the only people on earth who would understand how mind-blowing all this was, but I couldn’t yet. Not only would that be unethical and hypocritical, I wasn’t ready to deal with the curiosity such a confession would invite.
Still I wondered if I could at least text Ash and squeal with her.
As if she’d read my mind, my phone rang out a riff of Walking Disaster’s “Expulsion”—Ash’s text message ringtone. Since I had no other pressing tasks, I slid it open.
Help! There’s a revolt on the board. They’ve decided to stage some kind of search and destroy mission against that reviewer. I’ve tried to intervene, but they’re ignoring me
Shit.
My fingers flew. Just lock the thread. Or delete it.
The phone rang out again. Layla, please. Just pop in?
I gritted my teeth. I’d put her in charge because she promised she could handle any drama in my absence.
Glancing around to make sure nobody could spy on my laptop screen, I opened the fan site and logged in, smiling at the rotating banner up top. A picture of Adam from the early days loaded, giving me a twinge of nostalgia for the rush I’d felt building my community alongside the rocketing success of the band.