It was 115°F when we finally arrived in Phoenix, and I started to wonder if maybe all of its citizens were a few fries short of a happy meal. I mean seriously, who would willingly live in a place that it was considered normal for it to be in the triple digits during a summer that went on for the majority of the year? I imagine air conditioning companies made a killing here. Just during the short transition from leaving the trailer and entering the small office building next to the amphitheater, the back of my shirt started to stick to me from my perspiration. Not to be negative, but I could already tell that tomorrow's concert was going to suck. I wasn't even taking into account the stage lights and the hundreds of bodies that would emulate little furnaces as far as the eye could see.
After confirming our accommodations with the amphitheater management, we rushed back to our respective trailers to reduce our exposure to the harsh rays of the Phoenix sun. Sam had tried to convince me to go and hang out with him this evening, but with Chris coming to tomorrow's concert, I wasn't really in the mood. I felt a little queasy and confused as all of my questions regarding Chris' sudden bail out came flooding back along with additional questions regarding Sam.
I really wanted to sort out my feelings since how I felt about Sam now extended beyond the physical. I had spent practically every moment for the past week with him, and after Vegas I felt like I knew things about him that made him more... just more. He wasn't just the sexy temptation he'd been prior to the tour. He was the small town boy that came from a family of seven that loved to take risks, and travel, and experience life. I had been so sure that Chris would always be my choice hands down, but now? Now, I wasn't so sure.
Unfortunately, I didn't have any more time to mull over my problems, because I heard "Breathe into Me" by Red blasting from my pocket, which signified that my friend Cynthia was calling me.
"Yellow!" I said with forced cheer. I really didn't want my internal battle to be known since I knew Chris was with them. The last thing I wanted was for her to ask me what was wrong.
"Your wolf pack has arrived! We're checking into the hotel right now, tell Crystal and Gabe to come over too. I don't feel like making three phone calls."
She gave me the name and address of the hotel and the three of us piled into a cab to head to the hotel.
"There's Bob!" Crystal cried as the cab pulled into the hotel parking lot.
Bob was the name of Cynthia's car. Yes, she named it. Don't knock it though; my laptop's name is Bob2. [a/n true story. No relation though. Bob1 was outdated so an upgrade was required and Bob2 came into existence]. I looked at poor Bob and grimaced at the crappy paint job. Seven words: Never get a paint job in Mexico. That is unless you know for a fact that the detailer does good work prior to handing your car and your money to them. I shook my head in consternation; she got so defensive when you talked about the paint job saying, "Hey, it was my friend's dad! He did a good job on her car so I thought he'd do the same on mine."
Yeah well, obviously not.
As we made our way through the lobby toward the elevator, I whispered to Gabe, "Why did Chris come with the gang?"
Gabe shrugged nonchalantly, "I guess Chris and Powell go way back. Powell must've mentioned their travel plans to Chris and invited him along for the ride. I wouldn't be surprised if he was trying to counteract the estrogen levels." Gabe snickered after the last part and I hit his arm jokingly.
"Ha. Ha. Such a comedian Gabe! Maybe you can tell jokes at our next concert instead of singing and playing the drums."
The elevator doors opened and Chris was standing right there with his hand on the elevator button.
YOU ARE READING
Love & Lyrics (Editing)Romance
Previously titled: Payback's a Bitch. After discovering her boyfriend is cheating on her, Elizabeth Andrews decides a little payback is in order and sets out to even the odds. She starts the band Poetic Justice and begins a journey of love & lyrics...