The After Girls by Leah Konen

notes. She moved into the upper octaves, but she still stayed soft. Climbing higher, her fiddle seemed to weep. She was almost done.
    Her eyes caught Ella’s once again, but she looked away as soon as she could. She willed herself to get through this without breaking down.
    In moments the fiddle solo was over. She let her arms fall. She leaned into the mic again. She and Max would sing the last two lines together.
    Every season, every day, I will hold you dear.
    Even though you’re far away, I will hold you dear.
    The strumming stopped, the crowd quiet for a minute, and before the applause even started, before they even knew it was over, she felt a tear tip over the edge.
    She wanted to run, she wanted to flee the stage; she didn’t want anyone to see her like this. She hadn’t been able to cry since Astrid died, and now here they were, her first tears falling, right up on stage.
    Not now, she thought. Not now.
    But it was no use. She felt more tears coming, strong.
    Before she could move, the lights cut out. She was bathed in darkness. She couldn’t see a thing. She couldn’t help it, she let her shoulders fall as the sound of movement rung around her, the impatient yells of “What the hell?” from the crowd.
    She let them come; she let her body shake. She felt an arm around her shoulders, and when she turned she could barely make out Max’s face.
    A gruff voice rang out on the intercom. “We are experiencing technical difficulties. Please wait patiently, and do not try to leave.”
    Max’s arm squeezed her tight. “It’s okay,” he said, rubbing his hand down her arm. “You were perfect,” he said. “You were great.”
    And she felt his finger underneath her chin, tipping her face up to his. He pressed his lips to her lips, and she tasted the salt of her tears when she parted hers.
    He pulled back in a second, and he wiped his thumbs beneath her eyelids, along her cheeks. “I’m okay,” she said, turning towards the back, rushing to get the last bit of tears off her face.
    And then she heard the crackle, followed by a long buzz, and in a minute, the bright red lights were on her again. Carter looked at her, his eyes serious and sad, and mouthed, “Are you okay?”
    And she nodded, because she was. She felt a chill run down her spine as she realized that no one had even seen.
    Max leaned into the mic. “How’s that for a dramatic end?” he called with a swagger. “Stay put. We still got a couple more for you.”
    Before she knew it, he was strumming again.
    But she couldn’t help feeling that someone was looking out for her.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Ella was trying to pull herself together. River Deep’s set was done, Sydney was busy with Max, Ben was deep in conversation with Carter, and Jake hadn’t even shown up (not that she’d expected him to after her dramatic exit). Now it was just her and her thoughts.
    I miss you, too.
    All she wanted to do was go home.
    Ben turned to her and gave her a quick smile, the,
I’m having a great time, I’m not ready to leave yet
, smile. She briefly considered pulling him aside, telling him it was time to go, telling him what had
happened.
But she didn’t know how. She’d double-, triple-checked, but the message was gone. Like it had never even been there. How could she explain that? So she smiled back in spite of herself. His beer was already three-quarters gone. Maybe he’d be ready soon.
    There was an empty stool beside her, and she felt a pang in her stomach, because she could almost see Astrid sitting next to her, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. The two of them could have been talking now, Ella making up stories about the people around them, Astrid acting as the listening board.
    “That couple in the corner,” she’d say.
    “Which one?”
    “The blond with the boy who looks like he could be her brother.”
    “Maybe they are brother and sister.”
    Ella would laugh, smile. “They’re not.”
    “So what about them?”
    “She tried on six