Chapter Nine

"So I have to put up with him for just thirteen shows, right?" I ask not even trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"I thought we were more accepting of him being on tour with you," Willow tilts her head and gives me a sideways look.

I let out a sigh. "I know, I know. And I am, I promise. I'm just still not happy about it. I've accepted it, but I still think it sucks."

"Okay, that's fair . . . for now. But you're going to want to work on changing your attitude about it so that you can actually enjoy this last leg of your tour," Willow points out.

"I know. I've literally heard that from like every person I know. Especially Stephen. Just let me wallow a bit in private with someone I know won't judge me." I put my hands together in front of me, all but begging her.

She rolls her eyes. "Fine, but only for a bit, then you need to snap out of it. Promise me," Willow says firmly.

I nod but don't meet her eyes. "Fine, I promise," I answer as I scrunch my face in disgust.

"Archer's here and on his way over for rehearsals," Stephen walks in and announces, his hand against his ear as he listens to someone on his earpiece.

"Remember, you promised," Willow looks at me with her eyes wide.

I roll my eyes and turn my gaze towards the door.

Sure enough, within a minute, the door opens, and I see that tall boy with chocolate hair and matching eyes walk through.

He has a big grin on his face. For a second, I feel my heart twitch at his smile. For only a second. Then I'm back to business mode before I can even fully register whatever I was just feeling.

"Hi everyone!" Archer announces from across the room shyly. "I'm so happy to be here."

"We're happy to have you," Stephen answers before he looks at me, eyes wide in an expectant way.

Willow elbows my side. "Oh yeah, happy that you're here," I mumble, but keep my show smile plastered on my face hoping he buys my fake excitement.

"Let's get started then," Stephen says as he leads us over to where a few microphones and instruments have been put out. "Let's start with the songs that you guys are going to perform together at the end of the set."

Archer nods his head quickly and smiles.

I reach for my guitar and hand the extra one to him. I turn and face where the audience would be if I was on stage. Stephen directs Archer to where he'll be standing on my left side.

I put my guitar strap around me and position my left hand on the neck of the guitar as my right hand gently strums the strings with the glittery purple pick.

"Um, actually . . ." Archer starts as he shifts his weight uncomfortably.

"Yeah?" I ask, trying not to sound as annoyed by his interruption as I feel. I'm not so sure it worked though.

Archer shifts his weight again and hesitates, looking between Stephen, Willow, and me. It takes everything in my power not to shout at him to spit it out already.

"Is there . . . uh . . . any way that I can stand on the other side of you?" He asks, his voice dropping to a whisper when my eyes narrow in on him.

I instantly turn towards Willow. "I tried."

"I think we'll just wrap it up for today," Stephen announces as he runs his hand across his forehead.

"Thank goodness," Willow says as she lets out an exasperated breath.

"Yeah, imagine how I feel," I whisper to her.

She looks like she wants to say something else but Archer steps up behind me before she can.

"Can we talk really quick?" he asks, his brown eyes soft like a puppy's.

"Ummm," I start before I turn to Willow. I widen my eyes at her, silently begging for help, but she turns her head away from me.

"Sure, I was just leaving. I have an errand to run. Text me later, Ali," Willow says as she walks away.

"Traitor," I whisper harshly before slowly turning back to Archer. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Well, first, I just wanted to say that I'm so happy and excited to be here with you on this tour," Archer starts.

"You said that already," I point out as I raise my hand to my face and pretend to examine my nails.

"Yeah, right, I just wanted to make sure you really understood that," he responds as he shifts his weight a bit, trying to catch my gaze. I, however, continue to ignore it, pretending there's something more interesting on my nails.

"Okay, is that it?" I ask, starting to take a step away from him.

"No, I just," he pauses for a second as he pushes the hair that fell onto his forehead back off his face. "I just know that you are less than thrilled that I'm here. We started off on the wrong foot."

"Oh you mean how you literally jumped on my toes by writing your songs," I throw at him finally meeting his eyes.

"Well, I wouldn't put it that way."

I let out a snort.

He stares at me for a second before continuing. "I just want us to get along and have fun on this tour. I know I'm probably your least favorite person right now, and I guess I understand that. I think we can agree to disagree on how we feel about my songwriting, but I just really hope we can get past that enough to enjoy it all. I know you've performed a bunch of massive shows, but this is my first one. It's something I know I'm going to remember forever, and I'd like to have fond memories of it. With you. If possible," Archer finishes all in one breath. He probably realized that if he stopped for even a second, I would've jumped in.

I try to process what he's saying before I respond. I'm channeling my inner Willow and trying to figure out what she'd say or what she'd want me to say to him.

Needless to say, I'm struggling. All I can think about is how this all started and how at rehearsal he seemed to have an opinion about every move we made. I know I'm probably just being over sensitive to what he does because I'm annoyed with him, but that doesn't mean it isn't irritating.

"I hear what you're saying," I start, "And you're right. It is something you're going to remember for the rest of your life. I remember every detail of my first tour. But just because this one isn't my first, doesn't mean I'm not going to remember it, too. I know we're going to have to compromise on things, but I think you also need to keep in mind that I'm the headliner here."

He looks at me, his face blank. I'm trying to read what he's thinking, but he's holding a pretty good poker face. I can already feel myself getting defensive about whatever he says next.

"You're right," he finally answers.

My brows scrunch together as his words completely throw me off guard. I pause for a second, unable to respond.

"This is your show." He takes my silence as a cue to continue. "If anyone is doing the compromising, it should be me. I'm sorry I got carried away back there. I'm just used to doing my music my way. I'll work on that," he says, as he nods and looks at me expectantly.

I stare at him for a few seconds. He keeps his eyes locked on mine, eyebrows raised as he waits for my response.

I know the right thing to do would be to let him off the hook and promise to work on it as well. I should tell him that I'm going to work on being more willing to change how I do things to accommodate him. But, that's not going to happen. He needs to earn that. He doesn't deserve to be handed the privileges that I earned from all of my hard work. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into all of this, and he's going to have to learn that the hard way.

"Okay, sounds good," I say as I turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing dumbfounded watching my retreating frame.