"What?" Ramses stops what he’s doing. "Gonna miss me?" A roll of cable in his hand, he cracks a smile. "We’ll be reuniting in a week anyway. After your private gigs."
"You wish." Then I can’t help it. I ask, "You seen Wendy?"
Ramses’ face does nothing. He gestures at one of the buses. "Slept with the crew again," he says with a pause that seems full of more than just the words. He looks at me like he’s sizing me up. I know he is. He can’t be loyal to both me and Jett. He’s gonna have to choose sides one of these days if things go sideways.
"They were fighting last night again," he adds. "Saw them outside. Fucking loud."
"She leaving with you guys?"
"Don’t think so. I’m flying solo anyway. Jett has some business in town. Heard he was going to stick around. Something about a sponsorship. Dude’s always plotting world domination." Ramses sets down a massive snarl of cable, turns, and continues working, shoving the next coil into a trunk like he means it.
I wonder what kind of business a dumb fuck like Jett Vice could have in Germany. I think of Wendy, of last night, and get an almost sick feeling that it’s too late.
But I’m asking anyway, "You know what they were arguing about?"
"Same old shit." Ramses makes a sound in his throat. "I mean, he’s my homie and we’ve been doing this thing for so long, but dude ain’t relationship material. And Wendy is too nice a girl to leave him."
There’s an awkward silence, the two of us standing there all the cables and questions tangled around us. Then Ramses shakes his head, laughs, shrugs like it doesn’t matter. This whole scene. This whole life. I almost laugh with him. But I don’t.
I start to leave, and Ramses supplies, "Don’t look so surprised."
I don’t know if he means what he’s saying—or what he’s not saying—and I think he likes it that way. Mysterious.
"I’ll try not to."
"Later."
My frustration turns into something like relief as I pick up my pace. Knowing they slept in separate beds makes it a little less stressful. My booted feet carry me down the line of buses, trailers, all the places she could be until I get to the destination.
I halt in front of the door and wait, listening.
I could come off like a stalker. That’s a real possibility.
But she did kiss me last night. She initiated it. So now I have all these questions.
Why?
How?
Does she remember it?
Was it some sort of revenge against Jett?
And unless I talk to her, these thoughts will continue to plague my brain.
It takes me a few minutes to work up the nerve.
I don’t know if she’s alone. Or if she wants to see me.
She did run away yesterday.
Perhaps she realized her mistake.
Maybe I need a few strings.
Nope, that didn’t sound like a mistake.
I take a deep breath and knock.
