Page 4 of One More Bad Boy

Reading it out loud, I asked, “A record company?"

“Amina, do you have any idea what's going on?”

A rumbling wall of thunderclouds slid inside my chest. “I've got a suspicion.”No, it couldn't be.

Her grin started small, but soon, it made her eyes crinkle. “They saw the videos. Theyheard you!Amina, this is a music company! They must want you to work with them!”

“Don't get carried away,” I said softly. “They could want to talk about anything.”

She shook her head so fast that her cat ears bounced to the floor. Scrolling to the account’s private messages, she showed me the one sent by Violet_BeatsnBlast. It listed a number and requested we get in touch. “You have to call them.”

On reflex, I touched my cellphone where it rested in my back pocket. “What if it's a prank? How do I know it's not a fake account or something?”

Gripping my shoulders, she looked me dead in the face. “Amina Richards, if you don't go into the stockroom right now and call that number, I am going to suffocate you with that damn tail you hate so much.”

Lifting my chin, I gave her a quick, no-nonsense nod. “Alright. Okay. But if it's fake, don't you dare tell anyone I fell for it.”

She gave me the exact same serious nod. “Understood.” Squeezing me, she lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh my gosh, if you become famous, please don't forget me. Okay?”

There was no way for her to know what was going on in my head, but her childish excitement was enough to settle my unease. “Of course not.” Quickly, I copied the number from the message on her phone into my own. “Go out front and keep Nana from chasing me down while I do this.”

Opening the door, I slid into the small room. The shelves were so cluttered you could hardly see the striped walls. I touched down on the chair by the laptop, then jumped up, far too anxious to sit.Am I really doing this?

A wave of old memories and too-crisp fears hit me. Biting my tongue, I held my phone out and stared at the number I'd typed into it. The blue screen was steady, unlike my insides.

Do it. Just call and see.

There was no harm in the call. If this was fake, fine, I'd be disappointed. But if it was real?

Oh fuck.

What if itwasreal?

Did abandoned dreams get second chances?

Tightening my resolve, I focused on the phone...

...and I called the number.

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