Page 3 of Tracing Holland

“Are you coming out with us?”Callie asks, hanging on my arm again.

I sigh.That damn look in her eyes.“I don’t know.I’m kind of tired.”

“Luke…” Her tone is stern now, and I can’t help but smirk.

“What about you?”she asks Holland.“You’re all coming, right?”

Holland had been studying the selection of protein bars and glances over.“Um, yeah, probably.Where are you going again?”

“Saxon, right?”Callie asks Casey who nods.

“I’ll probably just hit the gym at the hotel for a bit and call it a night.Thanks, though,” I say, grabbing another water and an apple.

Callie is giving me her disapproving glare, but I only return a sheepish smile.“Another time?”

“Fine,” she grunts.

Even Casey seems annoyed.“Molly’s going to be disappointed if you don’t go.”

I groan.“Low blow, Case.That’s not fair.”

He grins and shrugs.They’re waiting.They know I’m wavering.They know I can rarely resist them when they team up on me.It’s not a fair fight.A thousand thoughts race through my head, and I feel Holland watching me again.I wonder which side of the debate she’s on.I sense it’s mine.I sense she’d be happier if I didn’t exist at all.She turns back to the snack table.

“Ok, maybe for a bit.But I probably won’t stay long.Just enough to say hi to Molly.”

Callie rolls her eyes.“When did you become such a loser?”

I laugh.“Hey, at least I’m not wearing a white t-shirt today.”

She grins and tugs at my decidedly not-white shirt.“I noticed!First show in a year and a half.I suppose if there’s any reason to dress up...”

Holland is chuckling to herself and seems startled when she realizes she has our attention.“What?Sorry, it’s just, I’m always bugging the guys about that, too.Hell, I have to spend two hours on hair and makeup.The least they can do is wear a decent shirt.”

“I know, right?”Callie cries.“These two insist on looking like they’ve just finished a landscaping project.”

I grin and shake my head.“Please don’t encourage her,” I mutter to Holland.

“Well, the girl’s got a point.That’s all I’m saying.”

Her tone isn’t exactly sharp, but it’s enough to draw my gaze.She meets my eyes, boldly this time, daring me to argue.I feel my smile slipping.I hate that I have to wonder what I’ve done to offend her, but clearly we have a history.

I swallow and look away.“I’m gonna go back to the hotel and change,” I direct back to Casey and Callie.“Meet you at the bus?We can grab a ride from there.”

It’s Callie staring me down now.I know she can sense the change in my demeanor.She always does, but I don’t need her worrying about me at the moment.

“Alright, see you in a few,” Casey says.

I offer Holland another quick smile as I pass, hoping I’ve misread her.I don’t think I did.

I decideto take a cab back to the hotel.I’m not in the mood for other people at the moment, and skip the shuttle.I can’t stop thinking about Holland’s stare for some reason.Sure, she’s beautiful.Gorgeous, really, but in a quirky way with her messy blond hair and haunting blue eyes.It’s almost like she goes out of her way to hide her beauty, although I doubt she cares enough about that stuff to bother with something so petty.She’s too confident to need to make a statement.She has nothing to prove.She’s just her own person, and I respect that.Hell, I’ve always been hopelessly attracted to that, but I don’t think that’s why I can’t get her out of my head.It was the secret behind her eyes, still searing my brain, accusing me of something I can’t remember.

We really haven’t spoken much since we met for rehearsals a week ago, so I know whatever I did must have been in the past.My crime might not even have been against her.In fact it probably wasn’t, since I’m pretty sure we never spoke before the tour.But yeah, I’ve pissed off enough people over the years that the six degrees of separation axiom pretty much screws me on a daily basis.It’s not that I don’t deserve it; it’s just hard to keep track of all the overdue apologies and corresponding train of grievances at every turn.

I turn on the water to the shower when I get to my room and pull off my t-shirt.It was a hot night, and the lights and frantic pace of the performance certainly didn’t help.We’re all drenched in sweat by the end of each show anyway, and I’m looking forward to a long soak under the waterfall showerhead.We’re doing two events in Houston, three if you count the mini acoustic set at a local rock station tomorrow morning.So our tour manager booked us rooms instead of living out of the bus like we do on some of our day stops.I’m grateful for the space, but more so for the privacy.

I strip down the rest of the way and slip beneath the warm stream of water, not too hot since my body is already on fire.I stretch out my arms and lean against the far wall, head bowed, allowing the water to soak into my sore shoulders.I imagine it washing away as much of the day’s tension as it can handle.It feels so good, and it especially feels good to feel good.I close my eyes.

My first show back.There’s a heaviness in my chest now that I can’t quite define.I’m not surprised, given the exhausting reality of this day, this moment.Sure, it felt amazing to be back.The rush of being on stage, consumed by the music, entrenched in the one thing I can do.For a long time, the only good thing I was.My life has always been a constant battle for purpose.I never found it.Not in a way that stuck, that mattered, anyway.Not until Elena, but of course I fucked that up, because that’s what I do.Well, what I did.I never knew what to do with Good so I’d destroy it.I’d break it apart and suck the life out of it until I could transform it into something more comfortable.Something disgusting that I actually understood, I deserved.

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