Page 43 of Hot Girl Summer

“Love you too.”

I blow him a kiss, wave goodbye, and wash the hell out of my hands.

After yoga, I journey inland to a part of town I’ve never been before, a forty-minute cycle ride to be exact, if Google Maps can be trusted. It takes me thirty-four minutes of weaving through drive-home traffic and uphill sprints in air heavy with humidity until I finally round a corner, slipping away from the main road onto an industrial estate which houses a row of converted Victorian warehouses.

Evidently, Stefan didn’t feel any better by the end of the day. James didn’t want to leave him, and April had plans, so that left me to join The Wandering Dragon’s rehearsal on my own.

By the time I arrive, my scalp is itchy from the damp braid tugging on my roots, and a healthy dose of sweat has gathered on my top lip. I don’t need a mirror to know that I’m dripping from head to toe, and a complete mess.

Ollie is loading equipment into a white SUV with two other band members as I pull up, he spots me and waves me over as I approach the unit. When I dismount my bike, I remove my helmet, and wipe what I can of my perspiration away.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” I say, trying to catch my breath.

“No worries. We’re actually heading off now, but Danny’s still in there.” Ollie jerks his head towards the entrance, then back again. “He snapped a string. You can take your bike inside.”

I thank him, and say goodbye. Once the SUV is down the road and out of sight, I pull my phone from my backpack, and check my reflection with the front facing camera. To say I have a healthy glow is an understatement.

I wait a moment for the redness in my cheeks to soften to a pale pink, and I take out my braids, shaking them out to a beachy wave. Taking a long swig of water, I apply some lip balm and pop a mint in my mouth, then I enter the pin code Danny has given me into the door security system and wait for the buzz to indicate authorised entry.

I keep telling myself the shakiness in my hands and the nausea are due to a lack of food, but it doesn’t explain the reason for my racing heart.

I’m not used to feeling nervous, and I don’t like it. Actually, I loathe that the sheerthoughtof Danny is having this much control over my body and emotions. I want to turn back.

Summer, the avoider of feelings, tells me it’s a bad idea, but Sophia—and that little piece of me that begs to be told I’m enough, the little piece of me that has hope—wins, and I push the door open.

Inside, the studio is larger, and surprisingly cosier, than expected. The walls are lined with vintage instruments, amplifiers, noisemakers, modulators and synthesisers. It looks lived-in, but clean, with exposed brick walls, floor to ceiling windows, and industrial lighting hanging from wooden beams on the high ceiling.

A worn black leather sofa and matching ottoman sit on a large patterned rug, which covers the light oak flooring. A raised platform is set up with a Pearl drum kit, two Fender telecasters, a precision bass, and a couple of microphones on stands.

I see Danny perched on a stool on the platform, guitar in hand, with a vacant smile spread across his face. He looks comfortable and content.

“Hey,” he says, softly.

My heart skips a beat when I hear his voice.

“I won’t be a minute.”

After carefully leaning my bike against the wall, I drop my bag and helmet beside the door, jolting as it slams shut behind me. Walking towards him, I kneel on the floor by the edge of the stage while he alternates between playing notes and twisting tuning keys on a maple-coloured Gibson Les Paul. After a few moments, he sets the guitar on a stand next to him.

“Isn’t there an easier way to do that these days?” I ask.

“There’s apps and electronic tuners, but I like doing it this way. It’s more authentic.”

“Or you’re just a technophobe?”

“I don’t trust it as much as my own ears.”

“I wouldn’t trust your hearing if I were you,” I smirk.

He flashes his dimples.

“I’m sorry I missed your rehearsal.”

“You didn’t.”

“But everyone’s just left.”

“I know.” He glances at his watch. “I booked extra time on the room, so we’re good for another half hour or so. I like to hang out here once they’ve gone.”

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