Free By Degrees by Elle Casey Page A

clean our shit up … in how long?   A year?”
    “Thirty days.”
    “Thirty days,” he deadpans, looking at me like I’m nuts.
    “That’s the deal.”
    “Good luck with that,” he says, dropping his head back on the cushions and closing his eyes.
    I leave the salon, sliding the door closed behind me.

Chapter Nine

    SCOTT IS MORE NERVOUS THAN I am.   I slap him gently on the arm.   “Would you please chill?   You’re going to freak us both out if you keep doing that.”
    He’s bouncing up and down and flicking his hands around.   I don’t tell him, but whenever he does that it reminds me of his brother.   Austin used to do it before a show; he said it limbered him up and got the blood flowing.   I should have known Austin was in trouble when he stopped doing it and just sauntered out onto the stage without caring.   There were so many signs I ignored.   Or maybe I felt powerless to control them.   Either way, it was no secret Austin was in trouble and I didn’t do anything to stop the train wreck from happening.   I was too weak and afraid. But not anymore. Now I’m in complete control.   I will not let Tarin down.
    Scott’s bending his head left, right, front, and back, like he’s exercising his neck.   “I can’t chill out.   What if he flips?   It could get seriously ugly.   You know I hate scenes.”
    “We’ve been through this several times with other people and it always worked out.   Why are you so jittery this time?   You’ve never done this before.”   He looks lost, so I grab his hand and yank it once before letting it go, trying to pull him back into our reality.
    “This one is different.”   He looks at me, real fear in his eyes as he grabs my arm with two hands.   “Can’t you feel it? Tell me I’m not crazy and that you feel it too.   It’s like … a tingle in my butt cheeks or something.”
    “Ew. Bad visual. And for the record, you are crazy, but I know what you mean.   He reminds me … of … stuff.”   I shake Scott off as I look away, hoping to see people walking through the door; but it remains closed.
    Scott isn’t done pestering me.   “It’s Austin, right?   I know he reminds you of Austin.   He reminds me of Austin and I haven’t even met him yet.”   Scott’s bouncing again.   “This is fucking nuts, man.   Nuts with a capital T for testicle.”
    “He has the same intensity as Austin, but other than that, there’s no similarity.”   I’m not sure I’m being exactly honest about that, because I sense the possibility of a lot of other similarities, but I don’t want Scott fixating on that stuff.   He needs to keep his head in the game just like I do, and he’s even more sensitive about Austin’s death than I am.   Austin was his hero and his only sibling.   Aside from his dad, I’m his only family now.
    The door opens and people begin to filter in to Mel’s living room.   The relief that washes over me is calming, and it gets me back to the place where I need to be mentally.   We’re here for the big meeting followed by a buffet dinner in the garden after.   This is where the last group of people will be let in on our plans, surrounded by all the others who’ve already been notified.   Tarin has promised to come and to be on time.   Ricky assured me he’d get him here.   I look at my watch.   He has fifteen minutes left.
    “You don’t really believe that, do you?”   Scott stops bouncing as he stares at me.   “Don’t play hardass with me.   I know you see it too.   It’s more than just their intensity that’s the same.”
    I sigh.   “Maybe they have the same intensity and their music style is similar, but that’s it.”
    Scott snorts.   “And they’re the same size, same color hair, and same attitude.”
    I shrug.   “Maybe.”
    He crosses his arms over his chest.   “I’m calling you out.   Truth.”
    I press my lips together and scowl at him.   We have an agreement, so I cannot deny