Page 10 of Sing Me Home
The second he was gone, I tore the granola bar open and scarfed it down in four large gulps. Then I guzzled the water bottle, the entire time my mind racing. My gaze darted around the room. Officer Riley had stepped into someone’s office. And it seemed like no one was actually paying attention to me. I could probably slip out unnoticed.
But should I?
Turns out, getting your car towed makes you extra homeless.
Was Officer Riley right? Was it time to go home? And if so, which family member should I call?
I swiped to TikTok, as if that might give me an answer. I don’t know why. TikTok was probably the last place God would leave me a sign.
The first thing that popped up on my feed was none other than I Am Not Your Cousin, aka Dollar Bill Dupree. My heart fluttered at the sight of him. All muscles and broad shoulders, perfectly shaped curls, stupidly beautiful Dupree-blue eyes, and a grin that belonged in movies. He wasn’t the twerpy kid I used to tease mercilessly.
Hmmm. This wasn’t his account. Unless he had a second account I didn’t know about with the handle @MillionFollowersMillie. Only Millie didn’t have a million followers. She had twelve thousand. Give or take. Whoever ran this account must believe in manifesting.
Cash laughed at someone off camera and my breath stuttered. But then a gorgeous blond skipped onto the screen and kissed him on the cheek. Jealousy roared like a wild beast and my fingers curled into fists. I turned the volume up a smidge.
The girl I assumed was Millie had on about a pound of makeup. “Babe,” she tittered, rolling her shoulders back to make her chest look bigger than it was. “Tell them about your concert.” She fluffed the roots of her hair on the left side, tilted her head, and pushed her lips into a dramatic pout for the camera.
Red alerts went off all over my body.
The Duprees had been infiltrated.
“First concert, guys,” Cash said. My hand pressed to my heart. He was actually doing it. Living his dream. “I’m opening for my?—”
“How sweet is this, y’all?” Twelve Thousand Followers Millie interrupted while rubbing his right pec. “Cash is helping out his dad by bringing in a younger audience!”
A squeak escaped my throat. A younger audience? Uncle Ford wasn’t that old. The man played Jack Steele for crying out loud. Women still asked him to leave Peyton and marry them daily. I knew because I read it in the comments of every reel his social media manager posted.
Oh, I did not like this girl. And I could not imagine Aunt Peyton did either.
Her fingers toyed with a curl over Cash’s ear. “You can see him play on the twenty-first at the Sailor's Creek University football stadium in Honeyville, Virginia. Tickets are almost sold out, y’all.” She needed to stop with the forced twang and the southern slang. She was a northerner if I’d ever seen one. If her fake accent hadn’t clued me in, her cowgirl boots, which looked like they’d cower in the face of an actual cow pasture, would have. Pretty sure those had cost more than three pairs of the worn-out Ariats sitting in my closet back home in Seddledowne.
This had been posted two days ago. I looked up the date on my phone. Oh. The concert was tonight.
“Tickets have been sold out for months,” Cash said with a soft smile. “But I can’t wait to?—”
“Sorry, babe.” She cut him off again. “I’m just so excited for you.” Then she shrugged at the camera, a snotty expression on her face. “You snooze, you lose, I guess.”
As Cash waved goodbye, she took one step back so Cash was in front of her and said, “For those of you who did get a ticket, there might be some surprises at the show.” Then she had the audacity to point to the ring finger on her left hand. I gasped as the reel started over.
Oh.Hell.No.
I stared up at the ceiling. “You were supposed to protect them. And really?” I huffed. “I asked for a sign and you gave methat?”
I sat there for a moment, staring at Officer Riley’s desk, replaying that terrible reel in my mind. A laugh bubbled in my chest. Because you know what? Seeing DeluluMillie with her hands all over Cash was the fastest way to get me on the Going Home train. Then I laughed harder, a lightness filling my entire body. Because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this kind of passion about anything.
I glanced up at the ceiling again. “Touché. You win.”
Looked like it was time to go home after all.
Officer Riley walked toward me, a look of disapproval on his face.
“Calling right now,” I said as I searched through my contacts. I put the phone to my ear.
She picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” Her voice was panicked. Or maybe a little shell-shocked. “Charlie? Is that you?”
“Hi, Aunt Peyton. It’s me.”
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