Chapter 12
SATURDAY
An unfamiliar smell invades my senses as I rub the grit out of my eyes: the musky, unmistakable scent of man.
I open my eyes to see a messy halo of dark hair centimetres from my face.
Reeling away from him, I feel my hand instinctively fly to my chaotic and sleep-disturbed fringe in an attempt to flatten it. It looks deranged in the morning, and I desperately wish for a mirror. Or any of my make-up.
I slowly turn to check my phone for the time so as not to disturb him. Nine-sixteen a.m. I haven’t missed Hennie’s call time, thank God. There will be no hell to pay this morning.
Sunlight filters through the dark roof of the tent; it’s horribly humid in here already. I can feel my body clammy with sweat underneath Elliot’s hoodie.
He lies completely still, facing away from me. After trying to rearrange my fringe one more time, I reach over to gently nudge his shoulder.
No movement.
I grasp him a little more tightly and give him a light shake.
Nothing.
Crikey. He’s a heavy sleeper. I’m envious of his ability to sleep through noise. The morning chatter of the campers around us begins to grow louder.
‘Hey,’ I whisper.
Just as I’m about to say his name, I notice his frame jolt before turning completely still. His head lifts off the pillow and he looks over his shoulder to take me in, his eyes disbelieving.
‘Morning,’ I murmur, as I run my fingers through my hair hesitantly.
He just stares at me with slightly wide, bleary eyes before blinking hard and running his hands across his face.
‘Morning,’ he grumbles.
I can’t resist giving him an overly-sympathetic look. ‘Yeah, I know. It was all real I’m afraid. Did you sleep well?’ I ask, with maybe a little too much enthusiasm.
‘Yeah, fine.’ He sighs and sits up slowly before stretching his arms behind his head, revealing a small sliver of his back underneath his top. I force my eyes back up to his no-longer-perfect hair.
‘You’re not very talkative in the morning, are you?’ I prompt.
‘No.’
‘So you’re not a morning person? I’m staggered. I’m actually struggling for breath.’
He glares in my general direction before gesturing at his toothbrush and toothpaste and stepping swiftly out of the tent.
I scoff. ‘Oh no, you go ahead! I’ll just sit here and soak in my own filth.’
His deep voice rings through the walls of the tent.
‘We’re still on a truce, go shower if you want to.’
He’s got a point. I stand up to stretch my aching legs. ‘Fine. But I’m taking the stick.’
His head pops back inside; his hair is still pointing in several different directions and his eyes hold a slightly pink tinge. I can’t help but want to completely take him in. His current state screams ‘I have just awoken’ and there’s something unbearably cute about it.
‘You want to take the drumstick with you to shower? Really?’
I shrug with false nonchalance. The idea of leaving the drumstick alone with Elliot isn’t something that thrills me. He tilts his head in disbelief.
‘You’re just gonna take it?’
‘I don’t see why not,’ I reply. ‘In fact, it’s the least you can do to let me.
I’m the one who just spent the night sleeping in an unfamiliar bed.
I need more of my stuff.’ Without further explanation, I spring up and pull Elliot’s hoodie over my head, before tossing to him.
He catches it easily with one hand, staring at me questioningly.
‘I don’t even know where you’re camped.’
‘Exactly! That’s why it’s perfect. I’ll just see you back here when I’m ready. I really need to go back to see Hennie and get myself together.’
He releases a rough sigh. ‘You know, if you don’t return and you’ve duped me, you’ll only have to answer to the gods of fair deals and agreements,’ he says, waving his toothbrush at me as he speaks. ‘Not to mention your conscience.’
‘Don’t you point your toothbrush at me and make threats about the torment of my own conscience. I’m very capable of following through on an agreement. I will be back here. Just give me an hour.’
He seems much more awake now, toying with the hoodie in his hand before throwing it towards his bag in the corner.
‘Fine. The ten a.m. agreement is null, I’m just trusting you to come back.’
‘Well, you’re making an excellent judgement,’ I say airily, then turn to see he’s sticking out his hand for a handshake, an unreadable look on his face.
I pause, then slowly take his hand to shake it. His eyes search mine imploringly, seeking something out.
Obviously he has no need to worry about me stealing it. He’s right. I would be tormented by my conscience. But he’ll just have to see that for himself.
I run back to my tent for my wash-bag and then to the showers, which are mercifully quiet.
By the time I return, Hennie is standing outside of her tent with her hands on her hips.
Her silver-blonde hair has already been tamed to a beautiful smooth sheen with two thin plaits framing both sides of her face, which currently looks furious.
‘Where the fuck have you been?’ she shrills.
‘In Elliot’s tent, we discussed it at length? Are you feeling alright?’
She waves her phone frantically in front of me. ‘Your phone, your phone. Have you not looked at my messages?’
‘I left it in my tent to shower. Why? What’s going on?’
‘Possibly a miracle.’ She has her arms out to steady me. ‘Okay, wait. You might want to sit down.’
That sentence alone spikes my heart rate. ‘We’re in a field, Hen. There are no chairs. What’s going on?’
‘Are you ready to hear something big? Perhaps life-changing?’
I am now quite frightened but nod anyway.
‘Queen Ego have set up a treasure hunt for VIP meet and greet tickets for a show in Canada within Firecrest festival. You could meet them.’
‘You what?’ My brain short-circuits and I stare at her blankly. ‘What? But we’re not even in Canada? Are we? Where am I?’
‘Whole trip is included. Look,’ she says, holding out her phone. It’s a screen shot of Queen Ego’s Instagram story from over an hour ago:
Firecrest Festival <3 We had one of the greatest shows of our lives yesterday.
We were blown away by your support. As a little thank you, we’ve set up a treasure hunt inside Firecrest to win FOUR VIP meet and greet tickets for any show at our upcoming Canada tour.
Flights and hotel expenses included for all winners.
There will be 6 clues and 2 days to find them. Those who know Crest Fest well will possibly have an advantage, so team up if you can.
And with that… here’s the first clue:
Ask what you will, at this festival heaven – he will give his answer before eleven.
Blinding lights under green and blue, the next clue will be waiting for you.
You’ll have to hurry, and remember first,
All the numbers will be reversed.
Good luck!
I blink at the screen, expecting the words to vanish. ‘Oh my God?’
‘I know.’
‘Oh my God,’ I repeat uselessly.
‘You could meet them, Nora. You could behold Aga’s face in all its beauteous glory.’
I stare at her and nod, trying to absorb this information. She grips my hands which brings me back to earth slightly. ‘You will meet them. You have to win these tickets, Nora. No one in the world loves this band more than you do. This is your chance.’
In milliseconds, my mind goes from static to violently present.
An actual opportunity to meet my heroes is within my grasp.
I would be able to look at them and have them look directly back at me.
I would be able to tell them what their music means to me.
How it had held me and rebuilt me. I could thank them in person. My face goes hot just imagining it.
But then a horrible scene of me face-to-face with my four heroes and struggling to put a sentence together appears in my brain.
What if it went terribly, and the experience stained my view of them forever?
What if I said something unforgivably weird?
The idea of them rolling their eyes in exasperation as I walk away from them fills me with an awful and unshakable horror.
‘You know what they say though… that you should never meet your heroes? What if it’s true?’ I ask, my voice almost shaking.
She grins from ear to ear, her brown eyes alight.
‘Oh, fuck that. Let’s win them.’