Chapter Two
LUCAS
Her hand tightens, brightly painted nails digging in so hard it feels as if she’s about to break skin. “I take it this is a big deal?”
“Lucas!” She gasps as loudly as she dares herself to be in the staff room. “Of course, this is a big deal! No one’s even heard from half the group since they split up twenty years ago. They don’t have a social media presence or anything.”
“How would you know that?” I raise my eyebrow, half wishing I hadn’t. Because I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
“I follow all of them, silly.” She takes her hand off mine and shifts her attention back to her phone. “Well, the ones who have accounts, that is.”
“Of course you do,” I mutter, picking up my sandwich.
While I haven’t heard the name True North since college, I should have assumed that Julia never forgot about them.
Ever since social media became popular, she’s always trying to show me what some actor or singer is doing.
I’ve learned to just nod and add a “hmmm” or “oh?” when needed.
My feed is full of hockey and skiing, which Julia cares about as much as I care about her feed.
“Oh, there’s so much to do. I’ll have to set a timer for when the tickets go on sale, book hotel rooms, and plan the route. Oh, and the outfits!”
“That’s great,” I say, taking a bite of my ham sandwich.
I really should have kept the Danish for after my lunch. Anything I eat now will be seen as a disappointment.
“Oh, and it’s during the summer. Even better! I won’t need to worry about it being during the school year. You know I hate taking time off,” she continues as she scrolls on her phone.
“Uh, huh.” I take another bite.
Yup, this sandwich isn’t as exciting as my Danish.
She keeps talking, but my mind wanders to whether I have enough time to order another Danish and coffee before lunch ends. Teaching math to middle schoolers is no joke. There should be a caffeine budget built into the salary package. Or maybe a fancy espresso machine right here in the staff room.
“What do you think? It’ll work, right?” By the look on her face, I was supposed to be paying attention, which I was not.
“Uh, yeah,” I add, hoping that whatever I’m going along with does, in fact, work.
“Perfect. So I’ll get us the tickets and figure it all out. Do you mind if we go in your truck? It’s comfier, and we can put more things in it. I want to do some shopping since we’re going to be in Vancouver anyway.”
“You want to borrow my truck?” Now, I’m really confused.
“Well, I mean, I can drive it if you want. I assumed you would want to drive it.”
Reaching for my coffee, I hesitate before taking a sip. “You want me to drive you to Vancouver?” I try to catch up and fill in the pieces that I missed as I take a sip.
“Well, you’ll be driving us. I mean, we’re both going to the concert.”
I spit out my coffee, nearly choking on it.
I’ve gained the attention of everyone in the staff room, some looking on curiously as others sit in stunned silence that I dared to break the unspoken rule about loud noises in here.
“Sorry,” I mutter as I frantically pull out the napkins from the bakery bag and start wiping up my mess.
“What do you mean, I’m going with you to a True North concert? ”
“Who else would I go with?” She gives me her big puppy dog eyes.
Not those. Anything but those.
“What about Mandy?” I ask, looking back at my sandwich. Maybe if I don’t look directly into her eyes, I won’t be tempted to give in to what she wants. Which is the exact opposite of what I want.
“Mandy? No. She never liked True North. Are you kidding? She would always make fun of me for listening to their music. She was firmly into the grunge scene, remember? She was all about dark clothes and plaid.”
“No, I don’t remember.”
If I’m honest—and I would never repeat this out loud—I never paid attention to anyone other than Julia in high school. Or since, really.
“And there’s no one else?”
Her shoulder drops with her face, and a sad pout crosses her lips. “Sorry, I should have known you didn’t want to go.”
Well, I’ve done it now.
“I’ll go,” I huff, daring to take another sip of my coffee, making sure not to spill or spit it out this time.
“You will?” The smile returns to her face, as does her hand on my arm.
“Yeah, I will. You get the tickets, and I’ll take care of everything else,” I say begrudgingly.
“Even the outfits?” she jokes.
“What outfits?” I ask, afraid of her answer.
“Millennium outfits, of course.”
“No outfits.” I shake my head, already regretting my decision. “There will be no planned outfits.”
“You can’t go to a ’90s concert and not have outfits!” she exclaims in a whisper. “But, also, thank you. You really don’t know how much this means to me.” Her words come out fast and furious as she launches herself at me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
Once again, we are the center of attention in the room. Carefully putting my coffee down, I place it out of reach from any potential flailing arms before I wrap one arm around her, holding up my other hand in a silent apology for once again disturbing the peace of the staff room.
“It’s nothing,” I say, patting her back.
“It’s not nothing,” she says, pulling back.
There are tears in her eyes, her cheeks turning bright pink once she notices the questioning glances and knowing smiles.
“You know I never got to see them in concert because my parents wouldn’t let me go that far.
This is big. No, it’s bigger than big. It’s huge.
No, epic! Seriously, a once-in-a-lifetime event, Luc. So thank you.”
And now I know I’m in trouble. There’s no way I can deny her this. It’s not just about a road trip or seeing a concert. It’s seeing the concert. I know how much this band meant to her all those years ago, and clearly still does. So there’s no way I’m getting out of this. I may not have a choice.
That’s not entirely true. I could say no; but seeing the excitement on her face and the gratitude in her eyes, I know deep down I wouldn’t want her to experience it with anyone other than me.