I’ve spent, at the most, a total of 24 hours with the other members of Your Toxic Sequel. That entailed a music video shoot that I was eventually fired from and then last February when I filled in as Lucas’s assistant. Both situations were awkward, and the only member of the band who didn’t automatically seem to dislike me was Cal.
I fold Ashley’s list in half and use it to swat a mosquito. “I doubt I’ll get signed sticks from Sinjin, but I’ll try my best. He’s not my biggest fan.” I’m not exactly a Sinjin fan either, but I don’t tell her that.
“He’ll do it, and thank you for doing this for me.” She gives me a quick peck on the cheek, no doubt smearing her dark red lipstick across my pale skin. She stands and starts toward her car again. “Just so you know, I’m incredibly jealous of you.”
I can hear the grin in her voice, so I smile at her back as I get up from the swing. Folding the list one more time, I slide it into the back pocket of my high-waist shorts. “I’ll make sure I tag you in each of the photos.”
She doesn’t turn back around, but she throws her head back and laughs. “See you in a few weeks and don’t get into too much trouble, okay?”
“I won’t,” I promise.
Later that evening, over dinner at Gram’s favorite restaurant in Franklin, my younger brother echoes Ashley’s warning to stay out of trouble. Except his advice isn’t teasing, and he even goes a little further by giving me safe sex advice.
Gag.
At first, I’m not sure if he’s joking or not because as he tells me to make “the ass**le wear a rubber,” my brother is buttering a roll with the most relaxed look imaginable on his face. Plus, my grandmother is sitting right next to him. When I don’t respond, his brown eyes dart between Gram and me.
“You’re looking at me like I’m the douche right now.”
Gram’s bright blue eyes narrow, a look that always made us quickly correct bad behavior when we were kids. “Since you put it that way, son, I guess you’ve gone ahead and called it right,” she says, her soft voice full of steel.
Seth’s forehead creases. “Oh come on, I just don’t want to see her hurt, Gram.” He gives me a pleading look to help him out, but I press my lips together into a tight line. “Here, I’ll filter myself: Don’t let him screw you over. Better?”
No, not really. Still, despite how calloused and rude Seth is, I know he means well. My grandmother and I are the most important people in his life. We rarely see our dad, who lives in Maine with his second wife, and Mom has been in prison for the last few years.
I bite the inside of my cheek. Thinking about our mother makes me sort of thankful for Seth’s lack of a filter. At least he doesn’t beat around the bush, using manipulation and bullshit to get his point across like she always did.
Leaning over, I reach past the bottles of steak sauce and ketchup in the center of the table and cover his hand with mine. “Look, Seth, I love you—” I start, and he groans. Gram smacks him in the back of his head. Scowling, Seth gestures for me to continue. “I love you, and it means a lot that you’re worried—trust me, it really does—but I’ll be alright.”
“Sienna deserves to do this for herself,” Gram adds with a smile that’s so encouraging, so warm, that I fall in love with her all over again.
Jerking out of my grip, Seth holds up his hands defensively. “Damn, I never said she doesn’t deserve to be happy. She does.” He doesn’t speak again until Gram excuses herself to the bathroom. The moment she’s out of earshot, he says, “I just want you to be careful.”
I spear a piece of steak, roll it in sauce, and pop it into my mouth, ignoring the fact that it’s cold and too rare as we stare each other down. I count down from ten so I won’t say something to my brother that I’ll regret later.
Once I reach one, I clear my throat. “I promise I’ll be careful, but this is the last time I want to talk about this with you. You’re making things weird.”
“Aw, Si, don’t—”
I take a sip of my Coke. “Seth, I am going to be exactly like that. You let me worry about me, and you worry about you.”
“You worry about everyone but yourself. You can swear your ass off that you don’t but I’ll call you on your shit every time.”
I place my palms flat on the laminate table so I won’t reach across and jerk him to me by the neck of his T-shirt. I’m that frustrated with him. “Of course I worry about you and Gram. She turns 80 in November. And you—you’re barely twenty. It’s my job to make sure you’re not wrecking your life.”
“Don’t start that—“ He begins, but out the corner of my eye, I see Gram coming back.
“Can we not completely ruin the rest of tonight?” I plead in a harsh whisper. “At least for her?”
His expression is conflicted—like he absolutely wants to spend the night telling me how dumb he thinks I am for going with Lucas—but finally, the moment before Gram slips back into her seat, he scratches his fingers through his blonde hair and shrugs. “For what it’s worth, Sienna, I love you, too.”
“Everything is going to be alright. I’m going to be alright. It’s a music tour, not a wedding.”
Because I spend the night unable to sleep, I nearly miss my flight. As I go through the security checkpoint, I try to remember whether I parked my old Mercury sedan in short or long term parking, and it’s not until I’ve boarded my first flight that I realize I left the bag containing the majority of my shoes sitting in Gram’s foyer.