Expectations

Chapter 8

Once lawyer looking la—, I mean, Alex's mom and a man come into his dressing room I decide it's best to leave and head down the hall where I run into Chris. He tells me there's nothing more to do today and that I'm free to go.

Instead of calling a car to come pick me up, I decide to walk back to the hotel. The weather today is beautiful and the hotel is within walking distance. On my walk back I decide to call my dad to let him know everything is going well and I'm not planning on quitting any time soon. I even get to talk to the four goons for a bit.

"Hey, Joss!" They all seem to greet me in unison, letting me know I'm on speaker phone.

"Hi, guys!"

They all start to bombard me with questions at once and I can't make out anything they're saying.

"One at a time!" I try to calm them down.

"So, how does it feel to be a sellout?" Zack's voice teasingly echoes through the phone.

"I am not a sellout."

"Total sellout," Joe quips back.

"I'm going to hang up now," I threaten.

"Ok, ok, settle down. How's everything going? Do I need to beat anyone's ass?" Joe asks, playing the protective older brother card.

"Not currently. Everything's going pretty well so far," I admit.

"What's it like being in the air conditioning all day?" Andy, the bands drummer, asks, already knowing its better than working outside all day in the extreme summer heat with them.

"It's delightful," I admit with a cocky smile, even though they can't see me.

"How's the big, fancy tour bus? Bet you miss grinding it out in the van already," Travis, their bassist, teases.

"It's like a five star hotel, and it definitely smells better. I haven't slept in it yet but I get my own bunk with a TV and everything. I don't know if I can ever go back to the van life."

"Well that was a stab right to the chest," Zack jokes. "There is nothing wrong with Bertha!" he yells, defending the van, using it's made up nickname.

"Right." We all laugh and the conversation begins to settle down.

"So... have you heard from her yet?" Joe asks, trying to tread lightly.

"Not yet," I reply, the once airy conversation taking a turn. "Have you?"

"No, but I know it's coming." He groans, not looking forward to the event just as much as me.

I sigh into the line, not knowing what else to say. I know he's right, but I don't want to think about it right now.

There's some mumbling in the background of the phone call and the boys are being told its time for them to go rehearse their set for the summer tour that starts in a week.