Page 82 of The Way Home

Ignoring him, Jamie was now using his phone to navigate, turning the screen away from Caleb’s line of sight.

“J, you don’t need to hide your phone. I have no idea where we are.”

The rain was getting heavier now, and Caleb was starting to wonder if Jamie was just lost and too stubborn to admit it.

“J, it’s okay if—”

“Do you see a green light?” Jamie asked suddenly, eyes scanning the old brick buildings.

Caleb glanced around. The bars down this alley looked run-down, and most didn’t even look open.

He frowned at a dilapidated old building. “A green light?”

“Yeah, like a—oh,there!”

Jamie tugged him across the cobblestone, pausing just in time to let a biker pass. Approaching a somewhat grungy door, he pulled it open and ushered Caleb inside.

A tall, bored-looking woman eyed the two of them for what felt like seven full minutes before finally speaking.

“Password?” she asked in a thick German accent.

“Erm…” Jamie tapped his phone screen and read aloud, “Low fidelity?”

She quirked a surprised eyebrow, blew a bubble with her gum, and waited until it popped before pushing open a small, hidden door behind her.

“Enjoy.” She sounded like she hoped they both fell down the steps and died.

Jamie ignored her and excitedly pulled Caleb through the hidden doorway. It led down a dark hallway that smelled of weed.

“Jamie, what are we—?”

“Hurry!”

The further down the hall they went, the louder the music became. The sound of people started filtering through the stone walls.

With a nervous smile, Jamie led down a narrow flight of stairs. “It’s a speakeasy.”

No fucking way. Caleb loved speakeasies, and Jamie, decidedly, did not.

Caleb grinned. “Jamie, this issick.”

It got darker and darker as they descended. Once they reached the basement, it took a second for Caleb’s eyes to adjust. He felt Jamie’s arm reach for him, wrap around his bicep, and pull him close.

When his vision adjusted, he took in a large, open room. A bar was set up in the corner, where two bartenders were shaking drinks loudly. An enormous DJ table was set up on a small stage. The rest of the room was all high-tops and dance floor, with about fifty people crammed into the small space.

“Is this a concert?”

“Yeah. If you bought a ticket, they sent you the password.” Jamie said, holding up his phone. “It’s an artist you like.”

Caleb looked around. “Who?”

“Uh.” Jamie squinted down at his screen. “Julo Banks?”

Whipping his head around, Caleb reeled. “Wait, how do you know about them?”

“Because they were your most played artist on Spotify last year. I checked.”

Caleb’s chest swelled with so many emotions he thought he might cry.