Fangirl (26 page)

But her mom, who only found out her daughter was in Vegas after getting dozens of Facebook messages from her friends alerting her, didn't strangle her the second she saw her. This
did
surprise Josie.

Considering she was basically behaving like the devil's spawn, Josie expected her mom to scream and shout and take away every privilege she enjoyed—besides eating and sleeping. But, much to Josie's pleasure, she didn't totally freak out. At least, at first.

But when Josie walked into her bedroom the first thing she noticed was that her computer was gone. Just then, her mother followed her inside and shut the door behind her.

Josie dropped into her bed, landing face-first into a puffy
white pillow.

“I am not perfect,” her mom continued. “Far from it. And I don't expect you to be, either. But what I do expect from you is to show some respect for me. Some basic respect. But put aside the fact that you lied to me. Do you realize how dangerous it was for you to do what you did? You could have been lying dead on the side of a desert road somewhere and I would have no idea. The fact that you showed such poor judgment is just . . . is just . . .” Josie had never heard her mom so upset. “Just so not you! That is not the girl I raised. That is not the Josie Brant I know. And that drug-addict neighbor of ours, she is definitely gonna have hell to pay.”

“She's not a drug addict!” Josie shouted. “She doesn't even do drugs.”

“That's not what I'm told,” her mother fired back. “That's not what the rest of the world has to say.”

“Maybe I don't care what the rest of the world thinks.” Josie got up from her bed and squared off with her mom. “Maybe I don't care what anyone thinks for a change. At least D listens to me. She respects me.”

“If that girl had a respectful bone in her body she never would have driven you to Vegas,” her mom said. “And while we're on the topic of respect, Peter Maxx clearly has none for you either. It's so sad that you were too blinded by hormones to see that one coming too.”

Josie felt the urge to throw every available piece of anything within her reach in her room at the nearest wall.
She opted instead to hurl more words at her now panting mother.

“If
you
had a respectful bone in
your
body you wouldn't dismiss everything I have to say and blame my feelings on ‘hormones.' Maybe that's why I just needed to get away. Maybe I just wanted someone to take me seriously.”

The next morning, Josie sat catatonic on the couch watching MTV reruns with Connor, lyrics dancing inside her head.

Who were you? Who was I?

Trusted you, now not nobody

Certainly not a guy

“You probably shouldn't go on the Web for a while,” Connor said. “It's pretty brutal.”

“Thanks, Conz, I appreciate it. And, hey, I'm sorry I've been such a raging bitch lately.”

“That's okay,” said Connor, adding with a giggle, “Mom still thinks it's hormones. She told me that again last night.”

Josie grunted.

It was not even 9:00 a.m. but Josie had already showered, fully unpacked her suitcase, and taken down every Peter Maxx poster on her wall and thrown it in the Dumpster out back. Anyone who would automatically eject someone from their life without even listening to what they had to say didn't deserve her attention.

She remembered once seeing the investigative special
“Celebrity Obsession” on the Hot Hollywood channel, which reported a recent nationwide study found that one in three people fit the definition of a “celebrity worshiper” and that with access to celebs like nonstop paparazzi and Twitter, people can be deluded into thinking they are closer to celebs than they really are.

“Josie, Dad's on the phone!” Connor yelled from the hallway outside her bedroom.

Josie rushed to the phone and grabbed it from her mom, who flashed three fingers and whispered, “Three minutes.”

“Hey, Dad,” Josie said, out of breath, walking back to her bedroom for some privacy.

“Hi, baby.”

“I take it Mom told you.”

“She did.”

“I messed up, Daddy.” Josie began crying. “I messed up real bad.”

“It's okay, princess,” he said soothingly. “At least you're not in jail like me. Things could be worse.”

Josie pushed a giggle out through her tears.

“How's it going in there?” she asked.

“Honestly, it's horrible, Josie. I want to get out of here as soon as possible. I'm not a criminal. I don't belong in this place. It's so hot and crowded in here. But your mom has been a saint, coming to visit me twice a week. Being locked away makes you appreciate everyone, everything, on the outside a helluva lot more.”

“I wish I could come visit, but Mom says I gotta be eighteen.”

“Trust me, you're not missing much. Being allowed inside jail is one privilege you should be happy about not having. I will see you soon enough.”

“When?”

“My lawyer is trying to get bail reduced so we can afford to post it. Hopefully soon.”

“I hope so, because I miss you, Dad.”

“I miss you, too.” His voice cracked with emotion. “Sounds like that boy broke your heart. It happens. Guys can be hard to figure out, trust me on that one. I'm far from an expert on relationships, as you know, but did I ever tell you about the first time I had my heart broken?”

“No, you forgot to share that one.”

“Well, her name was Bailey, and she was the cutest little thing who lived down the street from me. She had long blond hair and big old blue eyes. I was so taken by her. She apparently didn't have good judgment because she let me take her to our freshman dance and even kissed me. I told her I loved her and she said she loved me.”

“Dad, that sounds like a
sweet
story, silly.”

“Oh, well, just let me finish. So, anyway, two days later she leaves me a letter in my mailbox—this was before e-mail—and it said, ‘I don't like you anymore. I am breaking up with you. Sorry. See ya, Bailey.' My mom saw me standing in our front yard crying my eyes out and later that night when she was putting
me to bed, I told her I would never, ever fall in love with any girl ever again. My mom just rubbed my forehead and told me something I will never forget. She said, ‘Kyle, sometimes for your heart to be open to love, it has to be broken by love. It is a gift in disguise.'”

Josie choked back tears. It was quite simply the most adorable thing her father had ever told her.

“I just wish I was there to hug you and hold you,” he continued. “Every daughter needs her dad, even if he is a screw-up, like me.”

“I'll be okay, don't worry,” she assured him.

“I've had a lot of time to think about things in here. And one thing I realized is that I have been trying really hard for the last few years to find happiness, a new passion to replace hockey, a new woman to replace your mother—something, really, to numb the pain of ending my career. Looking back, it was kinda hard to be thirty-five and washed up. So that's what the drinking was about and, well, that's what growing the pot out on the farm was all about, too. I just thought I could make a quick buck—for all of us, not just myself—and it was easy to do.”

“You don't have to explain, Dad. I get it.”

“You're right. I should shut up. Hey, you're gonna laugh, but I've actually been reading a lot in here too.”

“You're right.” She giggled. “I am so laughing!”

“Well, it's true.”

Josie could hear a guard yell, “Time's up!”

“Listen, Josie. I gotta go. But I wanted to tell you that one of the books I got from the reading cart was a basic guide to Buddhism. And, well, I read something in it that I want to tell you, because it made me think of you. It says that the first truth of Buddhism is: ‘Life is suffering.' I take that to mean that life's not perfect, and people aren't perfect. In fact, life hurts and you will feel suffering because of that. So what I wanted to tell you is that, um, there's no way you can go preventing life from bringing you pain, but what we can do, what you can do, is travel the path of dealing with the suffering better. Suffering is just part of the journey. So I know that you're feeling a lot of pain right now, but I want you to know that if you believe that it will get better, and that you just learn from your mistakes and move forward by making positive changes you will feel happier and, then, the next thing you know—”

The phone went dead.

You can run

You can try to run from all the pain

But the truth is that hurt is the push you need

To make a change that keeps you from going insane

Josie got up from her bed, walked out to the kitchen to her mom's Dell computer, and turned it on.

She deleted her Twitter and Facebook accounts.

Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete.

She pressed the delete key over and over and over, a ritualistic cleansing of all the cyber-toxicity.

Off the grid: where Josie believed she could go to limit her suffering.

Before completely shutting down the computer, Josie went to delete her Gmail messages. When she scrolled to one entitled “Christopher Playlist,” she clicked it open and inside sat several links that Christopher had sent her two days after the arrest out on the farm. She had forgotten to listen to the songs. But now she did.

“Just the Way You Are”—Bruno Mars

“Last Beautiful Girl”—Matchbox 20

“Secrets”—OneRepublic

“Lonely No More” (Acoustic)—Rob Thomas

“The Big Bang”—Rock Mafia

Christopher had played “The Big Bang” for her before, but now, after listening to it after all the other tunes he had sent her, she realized during the bridge of the song that Christopher was trying to send her a message. . . .

Take it from me, I don't wanna be

Mummified

Sometimes I feel so isolated

I wanna die. . . .

So baby, bring your body here

Next to mine, next to mine. . . .

She had heard “The Big Bang” a lot before on the radio and seen the video for it, the dreamy one where Miley Cyrus appears angelic in it. But as Josie listened to the thumping bass
and drums and the passionate voice, the lyrics took on an all-new meaning.

Some people like to talk

But I'm into doing

What I feel like doing

When I'm inspired

So, if we take a walk down

The beach tonight

I bet we could light up the sky . . .

Christopher had gone out on a limb and, since she hadn't even taken the time to listen to the songs, Josie felt like she had done the equivalent of snapping that limb in half and letting him fall to the ground like an overweight coconut.

The song wasn't quite yet over, and with the cell he had loaned her, Josie texted Christopher.

hey amigo! Sorry I've been so MIA. Been crazy.

But I miss u like crazy. We gotta talk. Need an

old-fashioned amigo chat sesh asap!

When he didn't text back right away, Josie texted again.

I finally heard your playlist! OMG. So sweet. SO SWEET. Let's talk, C-Lo!

When Christopher still didn't text, she walked back to the living room and flicked on the TV. But who was she kidding? She couldn't focus on anything. She needed to talk to Christopher. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe Ashley was right about them being destined to be more than just friends. Maybe it took making the mistake of chasing Peter to make her realize
that the boy she really should be with was with her the entire time. But she didn't know if this was the case or not. It was a thought, a possibility—something she had never considered until now.