Page 27 of Selling Out
“You’ve got it!” Kelly says with a big smile as Rose nods.
He flashes them a smile. “You ladies are the best.”
They erupt in an unintelligible chorus ofaww shucks-like responses, and he winks at me, then disappears into his bus.
I go up the stairs and open the bus door like nothing just happened, but I know Rose and Kelly well enough by now.
“Um, what was that?” Rose asks the second the door closes behind us.
“What?” I shed my heels and keep my eyes away from hers.
Rose and Kelly share a glance.
“The part where Austin invited you personally to come to his bus.”
I roll my eyes and reach behind me to get to my zipper. “Because I didn’t go last night.”
“Uh huh.” Rose smirks and cocks a brow. “You know what they say about Austin’s bus, right?”
I shimmy out of my dress. “He’s had it for a day. It already has a reputation?”
“From the tour he opened,” Rose clarifies, unamused by my sass.
“They say you go inside a girl,” Kelly says, “and come out a woman.”
I cringe. “Ew. What does that even mean? Are these prepubescent girls he’s inviting inside, because that’s not only creepy but illegal.” I was actually considering going, but nope. My name will not be appearing on a Victims of Austin Sheppard list.
“Don’t play stupid, Mia,” Rose says, sliding a tube of red lipstick over her lips.
Kelly’s staring at me, though.
“What?” I pull the sleeve of my jumpsuit overalls over my shoulder.
“You’re wearingthatto the after-party?”
“Yeah. If by after-party, you mean my stroll around the city.”
“N-n-no,” Kelly says.
“Y-y-yes,” I reply, putting my phone inside my crossbody bag.
“We promised him we’d bring you.”
I shrug. “Shouldn’t have done that. Besides, he can’t expect you to force me there.”
“Come on, Mia,” Rose says, running a powder brush over her face. “Do you know how many women would die to have Austin Sheppard beg them to come to his after-party?”
“First of all,” I reply, “yes. I happened to be at the concert tonight to see a small but representative sample of those women screaming and crying and throwing pieces of clothing at him. Second, he did notbeg.”
Rose zips up her makeup bag and looks at me. “That’sbecause Austin Shepparddoesn’tbeg. He doesn’t need to. But he got as close as he’ll ever get.”
“You guys are reading into things,” I say. “He’s messing with me. It’s what he does. Besides”—I pull a couple of tampons out of a box in the cupboard and wave them in the air—“I’m already a woman.” I stuff them in my bag.
“Just come for a little bit,” Kelly says. “Then you can go off and play tourist.”
They’re not going to give up. I realize this, and every minute I spend arguing with them is a minute I’m not seeing this lovably pastel city.
“Fine,” I say, pulling on my sneakers.
