New York: Allie's War, Early Years

When I looked at Cass, she raised an eyebrow.

"What did you do?" she said sarcastically.

From her tone, I could tell she didn't think it was me who had done something.

I answered her anyway.

"I honestly don't know," I said, watching Jaden leave.

***

A few hours later, I really was drunk. Cass talked me into a few more shots, and given my mood, I let her. Not my finest moment, but for the most part, it didn't matter...I didn't see Jaden after he'd disappeared backstage anyway.

Now Cass was jumping up and down in kind of a weird dancing pogo stick thing along with about seven other people standing near the front of the stage.

She laughed and grabbed my arm when I handed her a beer, trying to get me to join her in the mass of sweating bodies and flailing arms. Her dyed bright red hair was stuck to her forehead, giving her almost a China doll look with the deep black eye-makeup and bright red lipstick she wore. But she'd already dragged me out there with her twice and I wasn't ready for round three yet. I also didn't want to lose my seat at the bar with Jon while the place was starting to fill up for real.

At the thought, I glanced towards the door. The line was growing out there. I knew a lot of people would be coming to see Eye of Morris, not just the headliners, especially given all the radio play they'd gotten over the past month. I probably only had about thirty minutes before Jaden would be in the thick of it and surrounded by other people.

The band onstage now was decent for an opening act. Under normal circumstances, I probably would be out there with Cass.

"I'll be back!" I promised her, extricating my arm.

"Promise?"

I grinned, shouting over the sound of the throbbing bass speaker.

"Of course! You know me!"

Cass shook her head, snorting a little after she studied my face.

"Don't let him off too easy!" she shouted. "I mean it, Al."

I rolled my eyes. But I found myself turning her words over in my mind anyway as I walked away. I knew from her perspective I should be pissed off, but I just wasn't feeling it for some reason. I couldn't decide if that made me reasonable or an idiot.

We'd gone back to the hotel to change our clothes and both of us were fairly dolled up. Well, street-culture dolled up, anyway. Meaning, I at least wore make-up, washed my hair and had on a form-fitting skirt I happened to know Jaden liked...although I wore combat boots below it, not wanting to get my feet squashed when I got up close to the stage. I also had on one of my more expensive blouses, a see-through lace thing that clung to my body over a spaghetti-string tank, and I'd put my hair up. As an afterthought almost, I also wore my best pair of earrings, emerald tear-drops that my father had given me, and that matched my eyes.