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Excerpt from Isabel Palmer’s tour diary - Boston, 17 March 1992
Haven’t had time to write anything for a few days, so I’m squeezing in a few minutes before soundcheck etc. Adam’s birthday (13th) was amazing. Party at a club… Great place, huge crowd, such a fun night!
Also-- here it is, St. Patrick’s Day, and here we are, touring with an Irish band. No doubt there’s gonna be some serious celebrating and drunkenness tonight! And there’s another show tomorrow night…
- - - - - -
Personal Journal excerpt - 17 March 1992
I think I’d better start writing some of this in a separate notebook… I’m okay with people seeing my travel diary, but not my private thoughts about Adam. I keep thinking back to his birthday, when we were kissing in that dark room… my god, that was amazing. Was that the start of something? We’ve had lunch a few times since then, but I don’t want to say anything else yet, not until I’m more sure.
- - - - - -
It was a chilly Boston morning, the streets decorated for St. Patrick’s Day and crowded with traffic. Shoppers were rushing around, buying groceries or hardware, many already in their green scarves or plastic leprechaun hats. Taxis were everywhere, racing and dodging pedestrians and other vehicles, or taking sightseers to local attractions. One of these was enroute to Fenway Park with two excited passengers - young women, one blonde, one dark-haired, both taking a little time away from the massive, chaotic thing that was U2’s ZooTV tour to go on a quick side trip. They held a brightly colored and slightly unnerving-looking gnome statue between them; the driver just looked at the gnome in the rear view mirror and shook his head. As they neared their destination, the dark-haired woman pointed out the window.
“There it is, Em! Picture time.”
“Great! Sir, would you mind waiting a few minutes?” Emma asked. “We just need to take a picture, then we can go straight back.”
“Yeah, okay, lady.” The driver pulled over in front of the ballpark and left the engine running.
Emma got out and reached for the boxy Polaroid she’d been carrying. “Awesome! I’ve got the camera, Iz, can you grab Chuck?”
Izzy tucked the gnome under one arm and they got out of the taxi, then stood surveying the scene. After a few minutes during which they both looked around and muttered and Izzy held up the statue experimentally, Emma spoke.
“What do you think? He needs to have the Fenway sign in the background.”
“Yeah… maybe on the hood?” Izzy set the gnome down on the hood of the taxi, turning it first in one direction and then in another.
Emma moved quickly around to the other side of the vehicle, crouching carefully down to avoid traffic, and squinted into the camera’s viewfinder. “Not bad! Turn him a little more towards me… that’s it! Great!” She snapped a picture and the two got back in the taxi. “Thanks a lot, sir! We need to go back to Boston Garden now, please.”
The driver grunted and pulled away, grumbling something about bad traffic and idiotic drivers. Emma held out the developing picture for Izzy to see.
“It looks fantastic!” Izzy laughed. “That’s perfect!”
“The sign is in just the right spot,” Emma agreed. “Just have to write ‘Boston’ and the date on it.”
“Great job, Chuck.”
Chuck just grinned silently in response.
Before long they had arrived at the venue. A long row of semi trucks took up much of the parking lot behind the building, and a small group of die-hard fans was already gathered in front, chattering noisily and pointing at the tour banners. Emma paid the taxi driver, Izzy grabbed the gnome again, and they headed for the crew entrance, pulling out their ID badges as they walked.
“That was so much fun,” Emma said. “We have to do that in as many cities as we can. We could make an album of pictures of Chuck.” She grinned. “Start it off with the picture of him in Larry’s dressing room.”
“Ha, perfect! And we can always take a picture of him in the hotel if we can’t get away in any particular place. Or backstage. Hey, guys.” Izzy nodded hello to a pair of crew members who were stationed at the door as they entered the building. The two young men were standing by a crate that held a large plastic tub almost overflowing with bright green fabric shamrocks.
“Hey, how’s it going? Here, grab a few shamrocks,” one said, with the slightly weary tone of someone who has repeated the same lines many times. “They’re for all the crew. Take a bunch, we have loads of these things.”
“Wow. So I see,” Izzy laughed, and grabbed a handful.
Emma took some more. “Prepare for shamrocks all over everything.”
Back in the wardrobe room, Izzy put Chuck the Gnome on a worktable and dropped the shamrocks beside him. Emma added hers to the pile, then stashed the camera in her bag and started rummaging in a small supply case.
“Where’s the tape? Chuck should celebrate the holiday too.” She arranged a few shamrocks in a wreath on Chuck’s hat and taped them down. “There, perfect.” She picked up a few more and started twisting them together into a chain.
“How’s this?” Izzy asked. She had threaded a couple of shamrocks through her earrings so they hung down against her neck.
Emma grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. “Looks good. Festive.” She looped the finished shamrock chain around her neck. “Here’s mine.”
Izzy nodded approvingly. “Equally festive.”
“Festive yet fashionable,” Emma said. “Because people are gonna expect that from our department.”
“So I guess we can’t just stick one in a buttonhole, huh?”
“Oh, no. No no no. Anybody can do that. And probably will.” Emma grinned. “But not us.”
“Of course not.” Izzy agreed, and then started giggling. “You know what, we should stick them in all the guys’ pockets.”
“Great idea! Let’s do it.”
“I’ll go get us coffee, maybe some donuts, then we can get to work.”
“Are you going to put more chocolate Kisses in Adam’s pockets while you’re at it?” Emma asked with a smile.
“Another great idea, I think I will.”
- - - - - -
Elsewhere backstage, the band was welcoming friends and family who had flown in from Ireland for the holiday: Bono’s wife, Larry’s girlfriend, a few other old friends. A conference room near the dressing rooms had been cleared out and set up as a private lounge for the band and their guests; a table had been laid out with food and a selection of drinks. Everyone was talking and laughing, catching up on the latest news.
Adam was enjoying seeing them all again, of course, but he just didn’t feel as happy as he knew he should. He had to admit (if only to himself, and perhaps not even then) that watching his friends with their long-term partners made him feel a little… sad? Jealous? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was, he kept wondering, Why can’t that be me? He sipped his tea and sighed. Stop thinking about it. No time for this now.
Trying to shake the mood, he got up and left the room for a moment, using the nearly empty teapot as an excuse. As he approached the catering area, he saw Izzy walking away, a couple of paper bags in one hand. She looked around her, dodging some equipment, and saw him, and smiled and waved. He smiled back, and something tickled at the back of his mind… a vague thought, a question… then it faded away again. Adam watched her thoughtfully for a moment, then rejoined the others in the lounge.
- - - - - -
As the afternoon went on and people started streaming in, the feeling of anticipation kept building, filling every corner of the arena until it was almost tangible. The crowd could hardly keep still, talking excitedly and cheering anytime a tech or a stagehand appeared. Backstage, well-practiced routines were underway; final details were being double checked. Everything was coming together.
Later that afternoon, the girls started checking to make sure the band’s stage clothes were all ready. As they hurried from one dressing room to another, each carried a discreet handful of shamrocks.
“Okay, the plan is underway,” Emma said, grinning and waving a few shamrocks as she passed Izzy in the hall.
“Same here.”
Izzy had hoped to catch Adam in his dressing room at some point before the show started, but she was having no luck. They never seemed to be in the same place. Either he was hanging out somewhere else with their visiting friends, or she was running around doing errands. When she checked his outfits for the final time, she took Emma’s suggestion and stuck a few chocolate Kisses in his pockets along with the shamrocks.
It was just as successful as the first time she’d done it. As he passed by on his way to the stage entrance, Adam stopped in the wardrobe room just long enough to hand Izzy a small piece of silver foil. “I’m enjoying your Kisses,” he said, then left again with a wink and a smile that was as bright as Izzy’s own.
“You two are almost annoyingly adorable,” Emma observed.
When Bono passed by a few minutes later, he tossed a shamrock to them and flashed a wicked grin. There was no time to do more than smile back, though… it was getting too close to showtime. And, being a holiday, the show tonight was already on track to be even more exciting than usual.
The first indication was right before the show started. The opening act was waiting to go on, the band was nearly ready, various crew members were hovering around completing their tasks… and then the pre-recorded music faded out. The next sound was that of bagpipes… a whole group of them, apparently on the far side of the arena. The crowd was noisy, exuberant and appreciative, cheering almost nonstop from the moment the pipers started playing.
As the sound swelled up and echoed through the venue, quite a few of those gathered backstage stopped what they were doing, listening with bemused or interested expressions as the sound grew louder and moved closer. Bono looked especially pleased; this was his idea, no doubt.
Izzy and Emma paused in their work for a moment to listen, their expressions entranced, before reluctantly going back to the job at hand. Later, once the show was well underway, they finally had time to talk.
“Oh my god, I would not have expected bagpipes,” Izzy began excitedly.
“I know, right? That was amazing!”
“The crowd sure loved it.”
“I’m pretty sure this is the loudest audience so far,” Emma laughed.
Another surprise came almost halfway through the show, near the end of Angel of Harlem, when another voice suddenly replaced Bono’s.
“Hey, what...?” Emma said, a curious look on her face. “I’m gonna take a quick look,” she continued, and dashed out into the main area, reappearing a few minutes later.
“So?” Izzy asked. “What are they doing?”
Emma grinned. “Larry and Bono switched places for some reason. Larry is singing, and Bono is playing the drums. And he’s acquired a hat from somewhere.”
“Larry sings?”
“I guess so!”
Their question was answered a few minutes later, when Bono’s voice tried to rise above the cheering, saying something the girls couldn’t completely hear about ‘Larry Mullen… tonight… first time ever.’
“First time ever what?” Izzy asked.
Before Emma had time to do more than shrug, the same voice began singing again, this time stronger and rougher:
I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town
Dirty old town
The two looked at each other, and without a word both went to find a spot where they could look out at the stage. They were rewarded with the sight of Larry standing at the microphone, singing, a grimace of concentration on his face. They listened for a few moments, straining to see and hear everything, then went back to the wardrobe room.
As soon as they were back, Izzy spoke. “Wow, he sounds great!”
“Larry can really sing,” Emma agreed. “That growly voice is actually pretty sexy.”
“Wonder why he hasn’t sung before?”
“Probably took them this long to talk him into it!” Emma laughed.
“No doubt!” Izzy agreed. “So, is everything ready for the encore?”
“Yeah, should be… first the hat and the vest for Running to Stand Still, and then the whole Mirrorball Man outfit. I’m just going to go double check.”
Izzy nodded. “Great, I’ll start clearing things up here then.”
- - - - - -
A couple of hours later, things were finally winding down at the venue. The audience had poured out onto the streets, their singing blending with the general party atmosphere. The laundry had been picked up, the cases and other gear were packed and ready, the semis were being loaded. Chuck the Gnome had been safely stashed in one specially marked wardrobe case.
It was late, but almost nobody was planning to go back to the hotel yet, so the celebration was moving on to other locations. Most of the crew were searching out spots to test Boston’s reputation for being the best city for St. Patrick’s Day parties.
Adam stopped by the wardrobe room again to give the girls a quick wave. “Hope to see you both later,” he said with a smile, but his eyes were on Izzy.
The band and their guests piled into a couple of cars and headed off to a favorite pub. Quite a few people from the crew planned to follow. Izzy and Emma were catching a ride with Janice, the wardrobe supervisor, who was enthusiastic about the night to come; “Seeing an Irish band celebrating St. Patrick’s Day is a thing you shouldn’t miss,” she said with a grin.
“I don’t think there’s any chance we were going to disagree with that,” Emma replied.
Izzy grabbed her jacket and followed the others to the parking lot. “Absolutely not,” she agreed.
The drive to the pub was slow going. The sidewalks were jammed with groups of people singing, dancing, dashing between cars. Here, a group of students in green t-shirts exited a pub, singing snatches of the music that echoed from inside; there, a couple in matching hats and face paint waved to someone across the street. It was one big, boisterous party spread out over the entire city… exciting to be in the middle of, unless you were driving. “Same thing every year… everybody running around in the street, blocking traffic,” their driver sighed.
In spite of the delays, it wasn’t too long before they arrived at their destination - a corner pub in an out-of-the-way area. A sign hanging from a large gnarled stick identified it as The Druid’s Staff. The driver let them out by a side door; “Not open to the public tonight,” Janice explained. Inside, the place was dimly but warmly lit by vintage lamps; dark wood, leather, and brass were everywhere, and old photos and travel posters adorned the walls.
As with Adam’s birthday party, the entire place had been reserved, and there was a large crowd; there were shouted greetings all around as they entered. The pub had several rooms, each equally noisy with conversation, laughter, and the clink of bottles and glasses; traditional Irish music swirled under and through it all. The band and their party were sitting at a large corner booth at the back of the main room; most of the other tables were occupied by tour crew members, with the addition of a few (as Janice put it) ‘industry-type guests.’
“Ah,” Emma said with a grin, “them again.”
“Yep, can’t avoid them.” A smartly dressed woman across the room waved in their direction, and Janice waved back. “And neither can I, I see. Excuse me, you two, I need to go get some business discussion out of the way. Grab a drink, have fun.”
“Done and done.” Emma nodded in the direction of the bar. “Shall we?”
“I think we shall.”
A few minutes later, happily in possession of a couple of bottles of Guinness, they scanned the room, moving carefully between tables and greeting friends. A few girls they knew from Merchandise were sitting together at a nearby table; they called Izzy and Emma over to talk for a few minutes. The two crew members who had been passing out shamrocks earlier were now throwing them at random tables. Rob waved and said something they couldn’t quite hear on his way towards the side door.
Before long they were pulled into a group that was spread out over a few tables that had been pushed together, the discussion covering everything from the show to what food to order. The shepherd’s pie was reported to be very good, but popular opinion was running toward fish and chips. The waitress brought a few plates of the latter to their tables, and Izzy’s mind was made up.
“Wow, that looks fantastic, Okay, fish and chips for me too, please.”
“Make that two more,” Emma added.
Popular opinion turned out to be absolutely correct. The conversation was reduced significantly while a large part of the group tucked into flaky battered fish and perfectly cooked chunks of potato, then gradually resumed as plates were emptied. Finally everyone settled back with another round of Guinness, comparing favorite moments of the night in a jumble of voices.
“Had to be Larry singing,” one girl said. “That was a surprise.”
“Yeah, that was great!”
“It was, but mine was the bagpipes. That was wild.”
“I know, right?”
“They were both high points.”
“Yeah, hard to choose,” Emma agreed. “How about you, Iz?”
“If I had to pick one, I guess it’d be Larry singing,” Izzy answered. I wish I could say it was getting some time alone with Adam, she thought. Between the usual work of the show, the special visitors backstage, and the random holiday goings-on that had started even before the show ended, she hadn’t really had time to talk to Adam all day. She had hoped she would have a better chance here, but now she realized with some frustration that it probably wasn’t going to happen; too many people crowded around the band already.
She turned to look back at their booth. The guys were enjoying the celebration with their guests, while another waitress cleared away empty bottles. A few well-dressed girls were sitting with the band, most likely up-and-coming models or B-list actresses, trying to rise through the ranks by being seen with a major rock band. One sat next to Adam, almost on his lap. She was pressing as close to him as she could, her long blonde hair spilling down his shoulder. She looked thrilled; he looked like his mind was somewhere else. She suddenly leaned against him, her lips against his ear, whispering something. He smiled - a vague, preoccupied sort of smile - and kissed her cheek. She giggled.
Izzy sighed and rolled her eyes. She had seen girls around him before, of course; there always seemed to be fans hanging around somewhere, so that sort of situation was hardly anything new. Still not something I want to watch though, she thought . Nevertheless, she couldn’t resist stealing another look.
The girl definitely was interested in Adam, but he didn’t seem to feel the same. He looked away from his companion, looking around the room distractedly, and his eyes met Izzy’s. His expression changed instantly. He grinned and beckoned as if he wanted her to join him.
As much as she liked that idea, Izzy couldn’t imagine what she would say to him, not right now, not with that girl hanging on him. She shook her head a little, then turned back to the rest of the group.
Emma had noticed where her friend was looking. She gave Izzy a little nudge and a mischievous grin. “Hey,” she said in a half-whisper. “Looks like she’s starting to be irritating. You should go rescue him.”
Izzy just shook her head and laughed a little. “Oh, please. He doesn’t need rescuing. He enjoys the attention.”
“Not as much as he’d enjoy your attention.” Emma tapped Izzy’s arm with her fork to emphasize her point. “Am I right, or am I right?”
Izzy glanced back at Adam and the girl again; nothing had changed.
“I’m right,” Emma said. “You know I am.”
Izzy made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a hmmph . “Well, let’s just find out,” she said, and pushed back her chair. “I think I’ll just go outside for a few minutes and say hi to Rob.” Her tone was deceptively casual; her expression said, I have a plan.
“Good luck,” Emma said. “We’ll be in here discussing dessert options.”
With a conspiratorial grin at Emma, Izzy headed for the side door, making sure to meet Adam’s gaze again with a brief, enigmatic smile and what she hoped was a come-hither glance.
There were a few people scattered here and there outside, mostly standing around in the alley talking. She spotted Rob and Jeff leaning against a wall a little apart from everyone else, passing a thin cigarette between them. Rob nodded in her direction and said something to Jeff, and they both waved at her to come over.
“Hey, guys,” Izzy said. “How’s it going?” The distinctive, pungent scent of the smoke drifted towards her, and she thought, Aha, haven’t had any of that in awhile.
“Good. Just having a smoke.” Rob took a long drag of the cigarette and passed it to Jeff. “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be in there, flirting with Adam?”
Izzy shrugged. “Well, you know, I would, but he’s already occupied.”
Jeff made a dismissive noise and passed the cigarette back to Rob. “Oh, you mean that silly thing acting all fluttery beside him… “ He did a passable imitation of the girl’s gestures, and Izzy and Rob laughed.
“She seems like a pain. You can tell he’s just putting up with her because he has to.” Rob offered the cigarette to Izzy. “Here, want some?”
“Sure, thanks.” She raised the cigarette to her lips and inhaled deeply. Good stuff, she thought. “Maybe he won’t be putting up with her much longer,” she added at last, and passed the cigarette back.
“He knows you’re out here, huh?” Rob said. “Cool. You said you were kissing at his birthday party, right?” He took a long drag and passed it to Jeff.
“Heh, yeah.” Izzy grinned, remembering.
“Well, so don’t wait, go get him, kiss him again.” Rob said. Jeff nodded in agreement and offered the cigarette to her again.
“I’d love to, if it wasn’t so crowded.” She took another drag and handed back what was left.
Jeff took the end of the cigarette and quickly swallowed it. “Don’t even worry about that. Just go up and tap him on the shoulder, and when he turns around, just lay one on him. Like this.” He tapped Rob’s shoulder. Rob obligingly turned to face him, and Jeff stretched up a little and planted a noisy kiss on his lips.
“Simple as that,” Rob said with a grin.
Izzy had to laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The side door creaked as someone else came out into the alley. Rob looked up at the sudden noise, then turned back to Jeff with a Meaningful Look. “Well, I think it’s time we went back inside.”
“Yeah, good idea,” Jeff agreed. “Later, Iz.” The two moved off through the shadows.
“Hey, wait, you guys, what…” Confused, Izzy turned to watch them go and found herself face to face with Adam.
“Alone at last.” The welcoming grin was back.
Izzy felt a little secret thrill at that. “Hey, hi! What brings you out here?”
“I wanted to see you. It’s been such a busy night, I haven’t even had a chance yet to tell you that I like your earrings.” Adam tugged gently on one of the shamrocks that still hung from Izzy’s ears.
“Thanks.” Izzy smiled as Adam’s fingers brushed her neck.
“So I thought I’d just come find you after you passed by with that mysterious glance. Besides, you were watching me earlier.”
“Hmmmm, maybe.”
“Why didn’t you come over?”
“I didn’t want to intrude,” Izzy said. “You had plenty of company already.”
“Not the company I wanted.” Adam took a step closer and raised a hand to stroke Izzy’s cheek. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. “That girl was trying much too hard,” he continued. “She didn’t interest me.”
“Is that so?” Izzy asked softly.
Adam’s voice was equally quiet. “Not the way you interest me.” He leaned in close and pulled her against him, and his lips met hers in a long, slow kiss. She wrapped both arms around him, not caring if anyone in the alley saw. She wasn’t even aware of the cold anymore, just his warmth and his scent and the butterflies she always felt when she was near him.
When they finally broke off the kiss, Izzy had to take a moment to catch her breath. Adam brushed another light kiss against her forehead and she let out a happy little laugh.
“Wow… well,” she said, “thanks for clearing that up.”
Adam’s arms were still securely around her. “My pleasure,” he said. “Come back in and sit with me, we’ve chased away the hangers-on. I’ve missed talking to you today.”
Izzy didn’t even have to think before agreeing. As they walked back to join the rest of the band, Adam’s hand was lightly on her lower back, to steer her safely through the crowd. He gestured for her to sit down first, then slid in next to her on the leather banquette and draped one arm over her shoulders… and suddenly the butterflies in her stomach were back. All her brain could come up with was, Wow!
“Hey everybody, this is Isabel, the girl I went to find,” he announced, then added with a laugh, “Isabel, this is everybody.” There was a chorus of hellos. Izzy was feeling more shy than she had in quite some time at the idea of hanging out with the band AND their friends, but managed a warm smile and a polite response.
“Izzy! Good to see you,” Bono called out, and raised his wine glass in a salute. “There were a few young ladies visiting with us earlier, and our Adam was simply not happy. He would not be satisfied until he had gone and found you.”
Izzy blushed a little and grinned. “I’m glad he did.”
The rest of the evening seemed to pass much too quickly. She listened with fascination as the group discussed old times and current news. Sometimes Adam drew her into the conversation, other times he spoke quietly, just to her, and laughed in that boyish way that always made her melt. All too soon, they were on their way back to the hotel, she and Adam smiling at each other and holding hands in the dark car.
Best job ever, she thought.
- - - - - -
Personal Journal excerpt - 17 March 1992 - late 17th/early 18th
Finally back from the pub. Have to write a few lines before I crash. What a night! Adam kissed me in the alley, and I felt like I was going to explode or melt or something. We went back inside, I sat beside him at the band’s booth (!!) and he put his arm around me (!!)… I didn’t expect that, still too happy to say much more. He kissed me goodnight at the door of my room… wow, wow, and wow! Something else might have happened (ha) but we’re traveling tomorrow and I have to get up and pack. So much to think about, but I’ve gotta sleep!
- - - - - -
Excerpt from Isabel Palmer’s tour diary - Boston, 18 March 1992
On the way from Boston to someplace in NJ. Ow my head. Last night was wild. Band had special guests… Bono’s wife, Larry’s GF, also bagpipers, who knows who else. Much partying after show. Boston was going crazy. Back at hotel very late. To confirm: St. Patrick’s Day + Irish band + Boston = buses full of grumpy hungover people. Sunlight, ugh.
- - - - - -
Izzy tossed her pen down, pulled the hood of her sweatshirt farther over her eyes, and collapsed on her bunk, her back to the window. “Urgghh,” she groaned. “Can somebody turn down the sunshine?”
“Turn it down?” Emma grinned at her wearily from the next bunk. “What, like with a volume knob or something?”
“Yes. It’s so bright it’s almost loud.”
Jeff and Rob had grabbed two upper bunks across the aisle from theirs so they could talk, although Izzy seemed reluctant to do so in her current state, and Jeff was asleep with his head on an open book.
“The sun does actually make noise, you know,” Rob offered. “It has sound waves. They’re just at frequencies too low for people to hear.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” Izzy said. “Wow, what a crazy night. Don’t think I slept more than a couple of hours.” She pulled a water bottle out of her backpack, uncapped it, and took a long drink.
“It was the busiest I’ve seen backstage so far, that’s for sure,” Emma said with a yawn. “All those extra people running around. Bono’s wife said hello to me when I was helping get his first outfit ready. She seems nice.”
“The Pixies were pretty cool, too,” Rob added.
“Oh, yeah! And, bagpipers. ” Izzy grinned from under her hood. “They were so amazing. What a sound… and those shamrocks ended up just everywhere. I think even a couple of the cameramen were wearing shamrocks.”
Rob tugged on the shamrock that was twisted into his ponytail. “We still have a bunch of those things left over. Gotta figure out something to do with them.”
Jeff’s sleepy voice came from the next bunk. “However many of ‘em didn’t get thrown around last night, anyway.”
“I feel like my head got thrown around last night,” Izzy groaned.
“You’re not the only one,” Jeff said. After a pause, he called out to the bus in general, “Hey, how many feel like their heads got thrown around last night?”
The replies seemed evenly divided between “Me,” and “SHHHH.”
“Thought so,” Jeff chuckled.
“It was an even more eventful night for some of us,” Emma said. She grinned and reached over to tug on Izzy’s sweatshirt sleeve. “Wasn’t it?”
“Don’t know what you mean,” Izzy replied, struggling to hold back a laugh.
“Yeah, right,” Rob said. “We saw that kiss in the alley. Way to go.”
“And you got to sit with the band,” Jeff added.
“No comment,” Izzy replied with a smile. Soon the smile lapsed into a yawn, and she settled down on her bunk to wait for New Jersey.
Yep. Best job ever.