I tried not to give in to sadness, but I was very much reminded of the fact that I was here alone. I didn’t have any friends with me. And the only people I could call family would make the hugest scene if they saw me here.
Maybe I’d meet some new friends here. Flirt with a few cute boys. Have the time of my life.
Be positive, Emma.
But trouble stopped me the second I got to the front of the line.
I held my lanyard out for the guard to scan, and a chime sounded.
“Step to the side, please. Someone will be along in a minute,” he said in a bored tone as he gestured to the side of the entrance.
I blinked, confused. I hadn’t even gotten to the metal detector line yet. What did I do? “But I—is there something wrong with my pass?”
“Someone will be along to help you in a minute,” he repeated before shouting, “next!”
I moved to the side he’d indicated, dazed. What was going on? Why weren’t they letting me in?
My earlier feeling of anxiety returned full force. I looked around guiltily. I hadn’t done anything. I hadn’t even gotten inside yet, and I was already in trouble. I started inching toward the exit, hoping the burly security guy wouldn’t notice.
I was starting to think I would never have a lucky day again in my life.
“Hey! Hey, you!” a man shouted behind me over the cacophony of the crowd and whatever band was playing in the distance.
Ice slithered through my veins. I didn’t have to look to know that he was talking to me.
I turned slowly and saw a big, hulking guy approaching. He paused next to the security guy, did that whole manly handshake, back slapping thing, then turned to me.
“You ready?” he asked, tipping his head.
It took me way longer than it probably should’ve to place him.
But then it clicked. The diner yesterday for breakfast.
He was sitting in the back with the cute guy who had maybe hit on me.
But still, he was a stranger.
I shook my head slightly. “Where am I going with you, and why?”
He jerked his chin. “That pass there lets you cut the security line. Come on.”
That was a non-answer if I’d ever heard one. But I was intrigued, so like a ditz, I followed him.
“I’m Roscoe, by the way,” he said when I got near enough to hear him over the chaos.
“Emma,” I returned.
“Emma,” he repeated with a nod. “You ready to rock?”
That feeling of foreboding didn’t really go away as I nodded but hesitantly walked with him to the side of the security line.
“Give Jack your bag, so he can make sure you’re safe. Then we can go join B.”
I handed the new security guy my bag, and he pawed through all my stuff. My wallet, my cell phone that I barely got a charge in before calling for my ride, my water bottle, my feminine products for just in case, and my sunscreen—they all got quickly examined before he handed my bag back.
“She’s good to go.”
He didn’t even glance at my bulky jean jacket, tied around my hips.
