I think about her every time I play it. We’ve been on the road for a month now. Kevin started us out with this folk rock band called the Tenenbaum Revival. They have a lot of radio hits right now, and I really dig their sound. They’re from Denver, and the lead singer is married to the bass player. I envy their lives, the way they get to be together. It’s easy when your paths are the same, I guess.

I called Avery the night before our first show. She didn’t answer, but I figured she was busy with her shift. But she never called back. I sent a few texts, and at first she’d respond—simple things like smiley faces and “happy for you” notes. But I quit sending things a couple weeks ago. Maybe this time apart has made her start to think that everything was a huge mistake. If she wants to forget me, maybe I should let her.

I miss Max. I found a book at this little trading post in Utah. It was all about rocks from other planets. He’d love it—probably memorize it. I bought it with the intention of sending it to him, but every night I just flip through the pages and think about him and Avery, wondering if she’s working or getting to tuck him in. I wonder if that girl in the playground ever became Max’s friend.

“Mace, we need to do sound check in thirty. You know where Ben is?” Matt asks, popping his head in the green room.

“Probably giving his paycheck to a hooker,” I say, causing Matt to chuckle. “I’ll go look for him in a few.”

We’re in Reno tonight. Probably the smallest show we’ve played. Kevin wasn’t lying, this tour is different, and I really believe there is a recording deal waiting for us at the end of this. We have a couple weeks left before Kevin decides if he wants to tack us on to some more shows.

Ben has behaved, for the most part. Only once or twice did I have to drag his ass to the bus out of some nightclub or bar. He’s had a few flings, probably five or six different girls, but so far he’s kept them out of the bus. I think if we weren’t bunking with the other band, it would be a different story.

I walk out to the lot, and notice a few groupies hanging out over on the other side of a fence where the busses are all lined up. During our first few shows, the women were always hanging around to see Ryan, the lead singer in the Tenenbaums. But they’ve started screaming for me when I walk out, too. It feels pretty surreal, and there have been some pretty tempting offers, not gonna lie. But I keep waiting for that hint of reddish blonde hair in the crowd. I keep waiting to feel something—a pull, I don’t know, something.

The girls scream as I climb into the bus, and I wave once just to show them I appreciate them—and I do. I hope they want more of our songs, want to buy our albums, and come see our shows over and over. But I don’t want to sleep with them. I guess maybe after a while I’ll get over that, and then maybe I’ll want that, too.

“Ben, get your ass up! We tune in twenty!” I say, kicking at the bathroom door, hearing him sniffle and move around inside.

“Hang on,” he says, and I hear the sink for a few seconds before the door finally pops open. Ben’s eyes are wild, and he keeps rubbing his arm along his nose; I know the second I see him he’s f**ked up. He’s been like this before. It’s been a while, and he’s never completely fallen into full-on addict, but he’s dabbled—usually when some stripper hooks him up, or he shacks up with the wrong girl. I’m sure that’s the case tonight.

“Fuuuuuck, dude? What did you do!” I say going into the bathroom to search for what I know is there. There’s a small bit of powder left on the sink counter, so I grab a handful of toilet paper, wet it and wipe everything clean.

“I’m fine man, really. Just a little hit,” he says, his arms twitchy and his whole f**king body keeps jumping around. He sits on one of the benches in the living room area and looks at me, his whole foot bouncing up and down. “I might have overdone it, maybe a little.”

“You think so?” I yell, leaning back against the other bench seat, pulling my hands to my temples and rubbing. “You think you can play through this?”

“Yeah, I’ll be good,” he says, edgy as shit. I shake my head, and pull the blind back to look out the window; just making sure we’re really alone. The last thing I need is someone walking in on this. My phone buzzes once, and I know it’s Matt or Josh wondering where the hell we are.

“Look, I’ll just tell them you’re not ready yet for tune. We can do that without you. But f**king get it together,” I say, watching him stand and look around the bus, like he’s searching for something.