Page 64 of Selling Out
“Noah Hayes,” Rose says slowly, “gave you his number.”
“Well, he put it in Austin’s phone because I didn’t have mine at the time, but… yeah.”
“And?” Kelly asks. “What happened?”
My gaze shifts between them. “What do you mean? He gave me his number.That’swhat happened. We just went over this.”
Rose and Kelly share a glance that saysthis girl will be the death of us. “What were your texts like?”
“I haven’t texted him.”
Blank stares.
“What are you waiting for?” Rose asks incredulously. “You know how many people he meets? How many girls probably offer themselves up to go on tour with him?”
“I didn’toffer myself up,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “He was the one who suggested it.”
“I’m sorry,” Rose says, blinking like she’s lost in the conversation. “Whyexactly haven’t you used the number he bestowed upon you like a gift from heaven?”
“I will, I just…”
“Do you have other plans after this tour finishes?” Rose asks.
“No.” In fact, the only thing I have waiting for me at home is more busking and being forced to apply for another telemarketing job.
I feel sick thinking about it. Especially when the alternative is going on tour with Noah Hayes. Noah freaking Hayes.
“Sotext him,” they say in sync.
“Okay, okay.” I pull out my phone, and they hover behind me to oversee things.
I hesitate for a minute, unsure of what to say.
Mia
Hey Noah, it’s Mia Sawyer. We met backstage last night.
After I press send, I’m assailed with doubts. He probably met dozens of girls backstage. It was a gigantic festival.
Mia
I’m one of Austin’s backup vocalists.
Noah
Hey, Mia. I’ve been waiting for your text *smiley emoji*
Rose and Kelly start flapping their hands like they’re baby birds trying to take their first flight.
Noah
I’ll be in Lyon at the concert. Would you have time to grab breakfast or lunch? Or a post-concert dessert? That’ll give us the chance to talk about the future.
The amount of flapping and poorly suppressed squealing is getting out of control.
Mia
That’d be great. I think we have free time around lunch tomorrow.
