“What’s up with you?” I eye him as he walks into the den. He’s got huge bags under his eyes like he’d been on a bender the night before but he was with me, symphony’ing it up with the parentals. “Amber called me late last night.” “Oh?” I scoot up from where I’m lying on the couch, then I scoot back in a display of nonchalance. “What’d she have going on?” He snags the bag of Chips Ahoy! I have resting on my throw and crams about three in his mouth. Through crumbs he mutters, “Oh, she’s singing backup in this band with her brother-in-law and Sean.” “She is?” This must be connected to what Sammy said the other night. I feel kind of hurt she hasn’t mentioned it, but it’s not like she has to tell me anything. Backup in a band is a pretty big deal though, and I don’t know, but I feel kind of responsible for getting her onstage. Like maybe I would be someone she would tell. “Yeah.” Devon grabs another cookie. “Some kind of blackmail. She wouldn’t give me the details.
