Page 31 of Spread Your Wings
“Yes. Good people. Now get up.”
Two hours later, they were on the tube, on their way to Wembley stadium. It was really happening. Sammy was going to make it to Wembley for a Queen concert. Not the one he’d wanted to see, but the one he needed to see.
Sammy’d had too much caffeine that morning. He felt anxious and off. He hoped it dissipated by the time they got to Wembley.
They stopped at a small pharmacy for sunscreen. The brilliant sunlight had him concerned about sunburn. He’d almost forgotten about his sensitive skin during the dreary Sarajevo spring.
Mustafa grabbed them a couple of bottles of water, two Mars candy bars, a box of cookies, and a bag of potato crisps. Sammy struggled to make his single purchase and analyzed each SPF.
Once they arrived, it took roughly an hour to find Bex near the gated entrance to Wembley park. She had camped out overnight in her sleeping bag, surrounded by her gay entourage. Despite the night of “roughing it” on the street, she was gorgeous in a white tennis dress, her shoulder-length blond hair corralled into a high ponytail above the rim of her sun visor. Once they’d hugged and gossiped about work for five minutes non-stop, Bex introduced Sammy to her friend Kenny. Kenny’s smile brightened when Sammy introduced Mustafa.
“Oh, Kenny’s madly in love with Simon,” Bex said when Sammy asked her about it. “You remember Simon from ourfirst-year interning, right? He’s always wanted you. He’ll be right back, and then I’ll get down to matchmaking.”
“Simon?” Sammy remembered. Simon had an overbite, a collection of He-Man action figures on his desk, and an entitled rich-boy attitude. Sammy had found the overbite and the action figures endearing. The attitude annoyed him.
Mustafa must have overheard Bex’s description, because he stood closer to Sammy when Simon returned from refilling his water bottle at the nearest fountain.
Simon attempted to talk to Sammy. “How was your first assignment?”
Before he could respond, Mustafa interrupted, “So, Kenny, what do you do for work?”
Sammy turned toward Kenny, relieved for the distraction.
“I’m an accountant for a marketing firm,” Kenny said.
“I want to get into accounting, too. Or finance. Anything with numbers, really.”
“Numbers?” Simon asked. “How boring.”
“I don’t know,” Sammy replied. “Accounting and finance are both steady, growing job markets.”
“Why should we care about that?” Simon asked. “We’re seeing the world and writing about it.”
“Your stories would be boring without money to cause their conflict,” Kenny said. Simon glared at him.
Bex clapped her hands. “Yes, money makes the world go ‘round, doesn’t it! This is what I’ve been telling you for years.” She wagged her finger at Simon. “You need to settle down with someone like Kenny.”
Kenny blushed, but the slight upward curve to his lips said he wasn’t too opposed to the idea.
Mustafa surprised Sammy by putting his arm over his shoulder and handing him a cookie. “Ginger Nut?”
“Not here,” Sammy said under his breath. Mustafa flashed the cookie box at him, so he could see they really were called Ginger Nuts.
“No pun intended, I swear,” Mustafa said, but his chuckle gave him away.
Ginger Nuts were tasty gingerbread cookies—though one of the Londoners corrected him to say, “biscuit,” not cookie. Gingerbread had never been one of Sammy’s favorites, but they were edible.
Mustafa had helped Sammy apply sunscreen to the back of his neck when they arrived. And again, two hours later, when Mustafa’s wristwatch beeped a reminder.
“You set a timer?” he asked.
“I don’t want your pretty skin to burn,” Mustafa said, patting the back of his neck, which already felt warm.
Sammy slathered his face with the stuff again, doing his best to keep it away from his eyes. He wanted to see the concert, and his eyes already burned.
At four, the guards opened the gates, letting them into the stadium. Bex pushed through the line, bumping people out of her way with her sleeping bag. Soon, they were within five rows of the center stage, the vast set looming over them. A giant white phoenix spread its wings over the main stage. Two smaller phoenixes sat atop the gigantic television screens to the left and right of the stage. Sammy stared up at the dizzying heights of the set, the screens, and the many crew members still doing sound and light checks before the concert. He gripped Mustafa’s arm to keep from falling.
“Are you okay?” Mustafa asked, leaning down to kiss his temple.
