Somewhere in the Middle

Don't Blow It

"What the hell happened to you?!"

Evie's heart was already pounding, but the alarm in Pete's voice sent it into overdrive. She'd almost forgotten how terrible Jamie looked, despite the fact that she'd sat up most of the night icing his face while he slept soundly beside her.

She couldn't hear Jamie's response—maybe because he didn't bother to give one—but she heard Pete ask, concern coloring the question, "Does it hurt?"

"It's fine."

The annoyance in that response was clear, and so was Pete's long sigh afterwards.

"Jamie..." he started to say, but Jamie cut him off.

"I'm fine." But Pete interrupted him, too.

"No, you're not fine." He wasn't allowing room for argument, and Jamie seemed to sense that. "You're scaring the hell out of me. This isn't you. You haven't been yourself for months, and I'm not just going to sit by anymore. This is the final straw. One more of these nights, and that's it. I'm pullin' the plug."

Jamie scoffed. "You can't do that -"

"Watch me." Evie didn't know if it were actually possible—if Pete could actually end the tour because of all this—but from his tone of finality, she didn't think it wise to doubt him. "What do you think the fans are gonna think, huh? When you go out on stage with a bruised and swollen face. If you can even perform -"

"I can perform," Jamie defended, and she imagined him crossing his arms.

"We'll see about that," Pete said, and waited a moment. "This can't happen again. Understand? You have one more chance. Don't blow it. Please."

Evie couldn't hear if Jamie responded. All she heard was Pete's next question, following up a long, exasperated sigh.

"Has Evie been by this morning?"

And she was sure her heart stopped cold in her chest.

So many things—questions—flew through her mind. Had Pete gone by her room? Had he realized she never ended up sleeping in there last night? Had he already been to Lucas and Greg? Were they all looking for her? And most horrifying of all, what would Jamie say?

"Yeah." He sounded calm. Way calmer than Evie felt. "She was here about ten minutes ago."

All of her blood ran cold now.

"D'you know where she went?"

"Think she mentioned something about getting coffee."

There was a pause. "Evie doesn't drink coffee."

"Right." There was a more noticeable note of nerves in Jamie's voice now, and Evie lifted a hand to cover her eyes, resigning herself to the fact that she was nearly caught. That she'd have to explain. Maybe Pete wouldn't be too mad... "Yeah, she was getting coffee for me. Cause I'm hungover. And I asked her to."

"That's not what she's here for, Jamie," Pete said, and Evie waited with bated breath to see if she'd have to reveal herself. "She's here to get your ass in gear, and get you on the bus. That's it."

"She offered," Jamie said, and Evie bit her lip, trying not to care—because he was only saying whatever it would take to get Pete off his case. And hers, as well. But it didn't change the fact that she wouldn't have gotten it for him, even if he'd asked. Not this morning. Not after last night.

"Well, next time, get your own coffee. And when you see her, tell her to meet me downstairs." Evie felt abruptly grateful for Pete, for coming to her defense even though she really didn't need him to. She waited, but didn't hear the door close, and sucked in a breath when she heard Pete say, his loud voice more gentle, "Put some ice on that. I'm in pain just looking at ya."