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Along for the Ride Page 4
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Page 4
I gave her a salute as she left.
As I picked up a handful of running shirts, my phone buzzed. A text from Jenica.
LIMITLESS EMAIL. TEXT ME ASAP.
I immediately went to my email, refreshing the page.
And there it was. My invitation to the Limitless Apparel Showcase. My stomach bubbled as the adrenaline rushed through me. Everything I’d worked for felt validated, and I let out an excited scream as I ran out of my room.
“Katelyn?” Mom’s voice called.
I ran downstairs, practically plowing her over. “Mom! ”
Her eyes were wide as she held me by my shoulders. “Katelyn, what in the—”
“I have my Limitless email! I got my invitation, Mom!”
“Oh, Katie!” she grabbed me in a bear hug. “I’m so, so very proud of you!”
My heels bounced as I tried to contain myself. “We need to get out of here. Let’s go celebrate!”
Mom bit her lip. “I’m headed to the studio for the cast rehearsal, I’m sure I could—”
My excitement instantly deflated. “No, it’s fine, Mom, don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll go over to Jenica’s, since she got the email too.”
Despite what my mom said, Connor would always take front and center. And I’d forgotten that. For a moment, I thought that my accomplishments mattered too. And her hesitation felt worse than I could ever imagine.
“I’ll see you later?”
I could see the conflicted look on my mom’s face. “What if we go to dinner at your favorite restaurant?”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
She kissed my forehead. “I’m so proud of you, Katie.”
But not as proud as you are of Connor.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She headed toward the door, glancing back at me one last time.
She blew me a kiss before leaving.
There were times when I really thought that I was the main character in my story. And then times like these remind me that I’m just a background character in Connor’s.
Despite what my mom had said, she never ended up taking me to dinner. And so the next day a few teammates and I spent the day together. After an afternoon of popcorn and Netflix, Jenica was the only one still here, and I wasn’t quite ready to say good-bye to her yet.
“So this is really it?” Jenica asked, as I flipped on the TV.
“I guess so,” I answered, flopping down on my bed.
“You’re leaving me tomorrow?” she said, her eyes wide.
“I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”
She dug her spoon into the tub of ice cream. “This sucks.”
“Agreed.” We lay side by side, eating ice cream while watching an old episode of Grey’s Anatomy, which we’d been binge-watching all day.
“Is this our good-bye moment?” Jenica asked.
“No.”
She sat up, stretching her arms above her head. “I have practice tonight.” She gestured toward the piles of clothes around my room.
“And you definitely need to finish packing. Don’t you leave at like four in the morning or something crazy?”
Jenica was right. It was getting close to the time her mom would pick her up, to whisk her away to soccer practice while I was doomed to packing all of the outfits I had laid out in preparation for my suitcase.
It felt as though there was a weight pressed against my chest as I stood up. “Lots of pictures?”
She nodded, standing up as well. “Text me every day.”
“Promise.”
I wrapped my arms around her, wishing I could switch places with her. I wanted to be the one to train this summer, to play in the summer three-on-three league, and to go to the team sleepovers.
“Love you,” I said, as we pulled away.
“Love you more,” Jenica said. “Make sure those guest teams realize they’re stealing our best player, okay?”
“And make sure that Monica remembers she’s co-captain—don’t let her steal my place.”
Jenica let out a fake gasp. “She could never.”
We hugged one last time before Jenica’s phone beeped with a text from Momma Terry to say she was in the driveway.
“Every. Day,” Jenica said.
“Promise.”
And then I was alone.
I knew with too much time to think, the sadness of leaving everything familiar would start to sink in. So I turned on my favorite indie music playlist and got to packing.
SEATTLE, WA
CHAPTER 4
The flight from L.A. to Seattle went by in a blur, filled with adrenaline and sleep deprivation.
I wasn’t used to flying as a part of Connor’s entourage; usually that duty was left to my dad, with my mom tagging along on occasion. And I definitely wasn’t used to flying first class.
And now, sitting in the arena as the crew prepped for a full-cast rehearsal, I felt very out of my element. Connor stood in the center of the stage, microphone in hand, as various people scurried around him to prepare for rehearsals to begin. The lights were continuously changing, dimming and flickering through different-colored sequences. And I felt lost in the process.
“Hey, Connor’s sister.” Mackenzie stood behind me. She flashed a wide grin. “Do I have lipstick on my teeth?”
“No.”
“Thank God. Where the hell is Skyline? I swear, if I have an eight a.m. call time, everybody else in this show better too.” Mackenzie flipped her phone back into her pocket and turned on her heel.
“Geraldine!”
“Run-through starts in five,” my dad said as he walked toward me. “Where’s Skyline?”
“I don’t know. Mackenzie was—”
Dad pointed to his Bluetooth. “I’m standing in the arena, they aren’t here.”
He continued walking past me. Oh. Of course he wasn’t talking to me. I stood still for a moment, watching the chaos continue to unfold around me.
“Katelyn?” Chris called out for me from the stage. “Come sit,” he said, pointing to the front-row seats.
I made my way toward the front, Connor flashing me a smile as I took a seat.
“You looked a bit lost out there,” Connor said.
“I’m okay,” I said.
The chair squeaked beneath me as I sat. Being in this large arena felt surreal. Voices echoed off the walls, and a crew of people were shouting orders and making last-minute adjustments as they ran through light cues. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like when the arena was full.
Mackenzie came out onto the stage. “Since Skyline isn’t here, what’s plan B?”
“We’ll run ‘Let’s Get Crazy,’” Chris said. “Go and join Katelyn for a minute, Connor.”
“I’m not sticking around for this,” Connor said.
Mackenzie took to ordering the stagehands around, her hands on her hips. “Where are Alicia and Kelly?” Mackenzie asked.
“Geraldine!”
“Her backup dancers,” a male voice said behind me as a girl ran on stage. “And Geraldine is her very uptight, very annoying manager.”
Aaron stood behind me. Aaron Matthews had initiated a conversation with me. He plopped down in the row behind me. “Ooh, did I get here in time to see a run-through of ‘Let’s Get Crazy’? Kill me now.”
Mackenzie leaned over and kissed the girl on the cheek. “Thanks for being flexible, Alicia.”
“Kell!” Alicia called out. “Let’s go!”
The other girl, Kelly, came jogging on the stage. Half of her shoulder-length, red hair was in a top bun, with the other half resting around her shoulders. “I guess I’ll poop later, it’s fine.”
“We’re only running through choreo,” Chris said. “We’re using a soundtrack; I need Mack’s voice ready to go for opening night.”
The song began after Chris’s countdown, and the girls ran through the choreography. While I may not be the biggest fan of Mackenzie’s music, her dancing was on another level. She hit every beat, every move. She was in s
ync with her backup dancers throughout the entire song, nobody missing a step. Each movement was mesmerizing. So much so that I didn’t notice the donut in front of me until it was being dropped in my lap.
“There are donuts in wardrobe,” Ross said as he sat in the seat next to me. “Connor said you might want one.”
Aaron leaned forward, his head between Ross and me. “What about me?”
“Jesse’s still there,” Ross said. “I could only carry so many.”
The music had ended, Chris now talking to the girls up on the stage.
“Thanks, Ross,” I said, as the heat rose on my cheeks.
Ross had thought of me. Well, Connor had thought of me. But Ross Matthews brought me a donut.
“Okay, group number! Starting positions!” Chris called over his shoulder. “Ross, Aaron, you’d better find those other two brothers of yours. We need to stick to the schedule this morning.”
Ross stood up and saluted. “They’re in wardrobe. I’ll go check on them.”
“I’ll call them,” Aaron said.
“Oh. Or that.”
Ross headed up the stairs on the side of the stage as Aaron called Jesse.
“I can go check on them,” I offered. “If that’s easier.”
“Sorry!” I heard Jesse’s voice call out as he and Connor came into the arena, Zach following close behind.
Chris tapped his wrist. “Come on, boys. We have to do better than this.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Jesse repeated, as they approached the stage. “I would say it won’t happen again, but . . .”
Chris lowered his gaze.
“I’ll be more on top of it,” Jesse said.
“Get up here. We have a rehearsal to run.”
Skyline headed up the side stairs to the stage, joining Mackenzie, who was waiting with her hands on her hips.
“Sorry, Mack,” Zach said. “My fault.”
“Get a fucking alarm clock,” she muttered.
Chris grabbed a microphone. “Backup dancers! Opening positions! Let’s go.” He scanned the audience, his eyes landing on me.
“How’s the opening look, Kate?”
I flashed him a thumbs-up.
He stepped off the stage. “Let’s do a run-through then. I want you to sing this time instead of using the track.”
As they chatted on stage, I turned to look at the expanse of the arena behind me. Soon this place would be jammed with screaming fans, all here to see my brother. And I didn’t quite know what to think about that.
Chris’s voice turned my attention back to the stage. “That’s fine, Zach. Stumble through.”
My eyes settled on Zach as Ross passed him a permanent marker.
Zach began to scribble on his hand, clearly deep in concentration.
Once everyone was mic’d, Chris signaled the light booth. The lights in the entire arena went out, and my heart picked up a little.
Connor’s drummer started off the song with a solid beat. A spotlight fell on Mackenzie, as she had the opening line to the song. The choreography ran a lot smoother, and it showed that Skyline had been practicing. It was also obvious that Zach was reading from the palm of his hand during his lines.
“Good run-through!” Chris called, hopping up on stage. “Take five and we’ll run it again. Then after that we’ll head back to choreography to touch up on some of the rough spots.”
Stagehands brought water onto the stage, along with a couple of boxes of donuts. I signaled for Connor to toss me one, and he tossed me an entire box. My mom sat down next to me. “How’d the run-through go?”
Before I could answer, Connor’s voice interrupted me, his mic still on.
“Hey, Mom!” Connor called out. “I’m not a huge fan of the donuts. Can you see if the fruit has been delivered yet?”
Everyone on tour had a rider, which outlined what exactly they were requesting of the venue. My requests had been tacked onto Connor’s, and included fresh-cut watermelon, flavored water, and high-speed WiFi for FaceTiming friends when I was dead bored.
Connor’s part of the rider was much more extensive. I’d only glanced over it but had noticed his request for a variety of fresh fruit, aspirin, and a room with a lock on it. My mom stood up, never finishing our conversation, to head backstage and check on Connor’s fruit. Same story, different day.
“Let’s have everybody back on stage!” Chris called.
The epilepsy training was being held in the hotel conference room.
A neurologist and his team, not one that had worked with Zach directly, had been hired on by his management. It was a mandatory training session and everyone that was going to be on the tour had to go. And of course I’d gone to the wrong meeting room.
“ . . . about to start.” It sounded like Aaron, but I couldn’t see anyone.
“It’s useless for me to sit in a meeting about epilepsy.” That was definitely Zach. “I’m not going to be assisting anyone.”
As I rounded the corner, the two boys were standing outside of the meeting room doors.
“So you’re not going to come inside?” Aaron asked.
Both of them glanced toward me as I walked up.
“Sorry,” Aaron said, moving off to the side. “They’ve already started but you should be able to slip inside.”
Zach’s gaze was fixed on the ceiling, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
“Got it, thanks,” I said, as I stepped around them.
There was a woman standing at the front of the conference room, a PowerPoint presentation up behind her. I tried to discreetly slide into a seat next to Mackenzie in the back. She had her feet kicked up on the chair in front of her and her phone in hand.
“You’re late.”
“I realize.”
The presentation went over the most common types of seizures and how to assist each one. It explained when to call for a medical emergency and what steps to take postseizure. It was overwhelming, and by the end of the training, I didn’t feel ready to handle any sort of emergency situation. When the presentation finished, Mackenzie leaned over and whispered, “If someone has a seizure in front of me, I’m calling 911.”
Then Jesse stood up. “Thanks for coming, everyone. We want to take an extra few minutes to go over Zach’s specific condition. With Zach, we don’t worry about grand mal seizures too much; he’s only ever had one. Zach suffers mainly from partial seizures.”
The presenter handed Jesse the remote, and he flipped back to the slides that went into seizure details.
“With a partial seizure, he doesn’t lose consciousness or seize,”
Jesse explained. “It can happen at any time, but the first sign is that he seems spaced out. If you’re unable to capture his attention, that’s when you know something’s wrong.”
Leaning forward in my seat, I tried to study the text and memorize the details. I wanted to make sure I was as informed as I could be. Not that I anticipated ever being alone with Zach, but I don’t want to be the person in the room and fail him.
“He may nod if you ask him a question, but it’s more likely he’ll just stare at you in confusion,” Jesse continued. “Depending on how coherent he is, he might try to stand up. Make sure he always remains seated. But it’s also important to stay hands off.”
I pulled out my phone to take bullet point notes.
“He’ll remain in this state—not speaking, staring straight ahead, for a few minutes. Just stay calm—that’s extremely important. You’ll know that he’s coming around because he’ll ask for water. He likes ice-cold water, says it helps clear his head. He usually still can’t hold complete conversations at this point, but he’ll be able to answer simple questions. That’s when it’s safe to get him somewhere that he can lie down, as he’ll have a raging headache and will be very tired. He’ll undoubtedly fall asleep afterward, but it’s still not safe to leave him alone. By that time you should have been able to let one of us know, and we can handle the situation from there. But absolutely do not leave him alon
e, as he may wake up confused and incoherent and then we have a safety risk.”
Mackenzie leaned over, glancing down at my notes. “Send those to me after?”
I nodded.
“Safety risks are always a big concern,” Jesse continued. “During a partial seizure, don’t let him get up and walk around. If he’s doing any activities, make sure he stops. The most recent example I have is that Zach was doing the dishes, and during a partial seizure the dish dropped to the floor and shattered. So we had broken glass on the floor and couldn’t really explain to Zach what was going on. Ross ended up getting glass in his foot. It wasn’t ideal.”
“An obvious solution would be to wear shoes around broken glass,” Aaron said, causing a bit of laughter from around the room.
“It’s a lot,” Jesse said. “And we understand that. We’ll always try to be there the moment we hear of the situation, which is why I’ll be writing our phone numbers on the whiteboard. Please make sure you save them, and if you need anything at all don’t hesitate to call.”
Aaron stood up. “Jesse’s the best person to call. Ross would be a last resort, as he tends to crack under pressure.”
And suddenly I had three-quarters of the Matthews brothers’
phone numbers.
“Too bad,” Mackenzie said, flashing me a smile. “It’s missing the one phone number you care about.”
I’m going to kill Connor.
SEATTLE, WA
CHAPTER 5
The next week of rehearsals was a whirlwind. The talent was trying to find their rhythm for the tour, and as opening night approached, it was still pretty messy. Between the early-morning call times and the late-night meetings, I’d hardly seen Connor, Mackenzie, or Skyline.
Aside from my morning runs, I hadn’t really had time to explore the city. So on the morning of opening night, I decided to do so; after all, if I was going to be touring the United States, I wanted to actually get out and see it.
“Make sure you have your phone on you the entire time,” Mom said as I loaded up my backpack. “And your location had better be turned on.” She picked up her phone. “I’m checking right now.”