Page 27 of #Moonstruck

This batch turned out like all the others. Delicious, but not Mom’s.

Eventually my brothers got themselves out of bed, and our Uber arrived to take us to a nearby shopping mall. At seven in the morning, the parking lot was empty except for the buses covered in Ryan’s latest album art and the name of the tour—Moonstruck. How did I not realize this before?

“He named his tour after a word his fans use?” I asked.

“He did. And the fans love it.” A young woman appeared on my right. The first thing I noticed was her bright-purple hair, pulled back into two buns at the base of her head. She was about my height (five feet eight) and very pretty. She sported black glasses, a headset, and a big smile. “Hi, I’m Piper. The tour manager. You guys must be Yesterday.”

She was a lot younger than I had expected. Early twenties, definitely. We introduced ourselves by name, and I saw that same goofy look in Fitz’s eyes when he shook hands with her.

Piper didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks for coming early! Whatever equipment and instruments you want to be packed up, leave them here, and I’ll have one of the crew grab them. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to your home away from home for the next few months.”

We followed behind her toward the huge, shiny buses. There were dozens of people milling around, talking and laughing. I saw Fox and waved to him enthusiastically. He gave me a slight head nod in return.

I wondered if that meant Ryan was nearby. Just thinking his name set me off, like some kind of conditioned response. My heartbeat elevated, my stomach dropped down to my toes, and breathing became complicated.

If that was from just thinking about him, what would it be like when I saw him again? What if he kept flirting with me and then tried to kiss me? What if he still wanted me to break my rules?

Would I be strong enough to resist him for weeks and weeks?

I suspected the answer was no.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Piper led us to the bus parked farthest to the right. “This is your first time touring, right?” We told her yes. “Awesome. I’ll try to make sure I cover everything about the bus and the rules. If you have any questions, ask. First, this is your bus, #304. Be sure to check the numbers because they all look the same. We’ve had more than one mix-up before. You’ll be sharing it with Ryan’s band. They’re around here somewhere.”

A middle-aged man sporting salt-and-pepper hair and a friendly smile came down the bus steps toward us.

“This is Vincent, your driver.” He wore the same black polo as the security guards, with the wordMoonstruckover his left breast. How had I not noticed that the other night at Ryan’s concert?

“Bus driver and sometimes zookeeper. You can call me Vince.” We all introduced ourselves, and then Vince said to bring only a carry-on with us and that he’d be sure to get all our luggage put in the storage under the bus. Piper had mentioned this in her phone conversation with Fitz; space was limited, so we all packed carry-ons that had our necessities, including a few changes of clothes and something to sleep in. We could swap things out from our suitcases when the buses stopped.

Piper told us to follow her, and we went up the steps into the tour bus. I was shocked when I reached the top. It was all buttery leather and chrome and rich dark-wood walls. On the right side behind the driver’s seat there was a large wraparound couch with a table in the middle. I placed the plate of brownies I’d baked that morning on the table.

On the left side there were a couple of freestanding chairs next to the mini kitchen. Along with the sparkling quartz countertop, there was a sink, a small refrigerator, a toaster oven, and a lot of cabinet and drawer space. It didn’t look like a place where you could really prepare a meal. A big flat-screen TV hung just above the two chairs, and a bunch of gaming consoles were plugged into it.

“This is the lounging area. It’s a good place to hang out, watch movies, play video games, get a snack. We have satellite TV and Wi-Fi. As you can see when we’re parked, the walls can be extended on both sides for more room. It’s a tighter fit while we’re traveling. Please remember that you’re sharing this bus with eight other people, and your mother’s not one of them. Clean up after yourself, and be considerate of others.”

At the mention of our mom, my hand tightened on my bag, and it reminded me to send Angie a text later on to check in and see how things were going. Piper opened a door leading to a narrow hallway. There were four columns of three beds. “This is the bunk alley. It is a designated quiet zone twenty-four/seven. If you remember to keep the doors shut, it should keep out the sound from the other areas. This bottom bunk here is being used as a ‘junk bunk.’ It means it doesn’t belong to anyone, and people will put their extra stuff here. Feel free to use it if you’d like, but know that things get ruined that way.”

“Why is it so cold?” I asked, and this time my shivering really was from the temperature.

“All the buses are set to sixty-six degrees. We’ve found that warmer temperatures make smells worse and basically turn the buses into mobile petri dishes. Keeping it colder keeps everybody healthier.”

Piper walked to the bunks farthest away, near the back. The hallway was so narrow we had to go single file. There was an entire column empty on the right side, and the top bunk across the way also had its curtains drawn back. “These were the ones used by For by Four. They’re all yours now.” She tugged on me and whispered in my ear, “Since us girls have to stick together, I’d suggest getting the middle bunk. The bottom one vibrates a lot from being closer to the wheels, and the top bunk tends to sway more.”

While my brothers were busy rock/paper/scissoring over who got what, I claimed the only free middle bunk by putting my stuff on it.

“Thanks for the tip,” I told her as they grabbed the other beds. “If we’re going to be looking out for each other, you should probably stay away from anybody related to me.”

“No warning necessary. They all look like trouble,” she told me with a conspiratorial smile, and I liked her even more. “Each one of your bunks has a flip-down TV and a DVD/CD player, along with power outlets for your phones, tablets, or laptops. And I’m sure you’ve all noticed how narrow this hallway is. If you ever find yourself going one way and somebody else is going the opposite, the preferred passing method is rear end to rear end.”

I had to twist my lips together to keep myself from laughing. For some reason that struck me as really funny. That there was a rule about how to pass people in a hallway.

My brothers lacked my maturity, and they all started to snicker.

Piper either didn’t find it amusing or didn’t care. “It also means you can’t leave your shoes, instruments, or any other crap on the floor because somebody will trip over them in the middle of the night, and a fight will break out. Again, be considerate. Your bunk should also be the only place you sleep. If you pass out in a public space, you will not escape the wrath of a Sharpie marker. Unless your lifelong dream is for a photo of your face covered in obscene drawings to be posted online, always sleep in your designated bunk.”

She started to walk down the hallway and suddenly stopped. I only barely missed crashing into her. “One more thing—always sleep with your feet facing the front of the bus. Accidents aren’t common, but if it does happen, you’ll save yourself from a neck injury.”

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