Free Infinite Repeat by Paula Stokes Page A

But he’s looking at something on his phone and not paying attention to us anymore.
    “I bet you’re starving,” Amber says quickly. She yanks me away from Janne toward the table of sandwiches.
    I grab one that looks like roast beef and then gesture toward Amber. “Anything for your sweet little mouth?”
    She rolls her eyes. “Don’t let him get to you. Magazines aren’t exactly lining up to interview me. If they ever do, I’m not going to lie and tell anyone I’m single. But why argue with him when it’s a nonissue, you know?”
    “Right,” I say. Her reasoning makes sense in a nonconfrontational kind of way. I’ve just never known Amber to be nonconfrontational before.
    A guy wearing a backward cap and a Bottlegrate T-shirt enters the room with a case of beer. “You want?” He offers a can to Amber.
    She shakes her head. “Come on. All these people are stressing me out.” She heads for a door in the corner of the room. I follow her through it and we end up in an alley behind the club. We both lean back against the building, looking forward at nothing in particular. Another fast-food-bag tumbleweed bounces past us.
    “Doesn’t it bother you?” I say after another few seconds. “The way he talks about you like you’re a thing?” I take a bite of my sandwich and a few crumbs of bread fall to the ground. A speckled bird comes to investigate.
    “That’s how these people are. Musicians are just commodities to them. We make songs. They sell songs. Everyone makes money.”
    “It sounds kind of soulless.” The bird pecks at my boot. I offer it another morsel of bread.
    Amber shrugs. “Most jobs are soulless when you really think about it. I’d rather put up with Janne and have a job doing something I love than wait tables for the rest of my life.”
    “Oh, you’d rather be someone’s puppet than work hard like my mom, you mean?”
    “Micah! That’s not what I meant at all. Come on.” Amber rests her hand on my arm. “You know this is all I’ve ever dreamed of, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be perfect. And that’s okay.”
    “Which one of us are you trying to convince?” I take another bite of my sandwich and toss the rest of my bread to the ground.
    “You, I guess.” Amber smiles down at the bird as it attempts to fly away with a hunk of bread that probably outweighs it. “I believe it, Micah. I really do.”
    “I hope so.”
    The back door to the club opens behind us and Janne sticks out his head. “Amber.” He beckons to her without even acknowledging me. “It’s almost time to go on.”
    She gives me a quick kiss. “See you after the show.”
    “Yup.” I follow her back inside, watching as she falls in line behind the rest of the band. I want to be happy for her, but I hate seeing her at everyone’s beck and call. Maybe that’s what is really different about her. She’s thinner, blonder, and more polished. But she also seems . . . tame. The Amber I fell in love with would never let assholes tell her what to do.

Chapter 10
    A rachne’s Revenge goes on to some scattered clapping but not much else. The floor section is only half full and people are doing more talking than paying attention to the stage. The two kids next to me say something about how they’ve never heard of them.
    Amber and the rest of the band quickly win over the crowd though. They start with their song “The Island,” a Goth-rock number about star-crossed lovers. The song is full of angry guitar, but Amber’s sultry voice carries over it, thanks to a stellar job by the sound team. Boys whistle. Girls look adoringly at Nate, and I still don’t get it. I mean, he’s the freaking bassist. They could at least go all gaga for Damien. That guy can really shred.
    Arachne’s Revenge launches into their second song, and by the end of the first chorus, the front section of the crowd is all facing toward the stage, many of them swaying along to the music.
    My favorite part of the show is when Amber