Foolish Games (2 page)

“So how did it go?” Riley asked from the passenger side seat when I carefully shut the door behind me.

I reached my hand across and lovingly ruffled his sandy blonde hair. “
You
, my friend, missed out.”

“What? Where’s Lizzie?”

“While you were at Donut Connection buying our breakfast for tomorrow, The Grimm Brothers Band showed up.”

“Shut up! No way.” Riley dropped his mouth open in shock.

“Way,” I sighed while looking out the rearview mirror at the flash of cars circling the parking lot. I guess it was no secret to a
few
people that the band was here tonight.

“Lizzie?”

“She managed,” I bugged my eyes out, “to catch one of the band member’s attention.”

“That hooch! Which one?”

I braced the steering wheel while giving him my most sympathetic look and admitted, “Warren.”

“Ah, no! No!” Riley was clearly devastated. “Wait, what about Ryan?”

“He’s just the opening act.” I shrugged. “The Grimm Brothers Band is
the show
.” Not that Hawkins would ever let anyone ever forget that.

Riley digested the surprising news while we sat in silence.

“Trust me,” I yawned, crawling into the back where we kept a cot, “when I say you are better off.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“It’s not worth repeating.” Or reliving, I thought, glancing up at the metal skeleton of the van as I laid down. I tossed the thin plaid sheet on the cot to the side since it was too hot for that tonight.

“How can you sleep?” Riley asked me. “I want to hear all the details when Lizzie gets back.”

“I’m sure in about, oh,” I looked down at my imaginary wrist watch, “three minutes you will.” I laughed as I pulled the pillow under my head and closed my eyes. Blondes, ha!

I woke up early the next morning since we needed to be on the road quickly to make it to the next show. Granted, I knew the band was still asleep in their expensive suites or were dabbling on the internet in their plush robes. Ugg, the band! I was slowly remembering last night’s hellish elevator ride. Hawkins from four rows back at a concert was charismatic. Though after watching the casual sneer he directed at me in the elevator, I was a wee bit more resentful to be following them around today.

None the less, we weren’t actually with the band. We were the crazy, hippie-living, at times bottom-dwelling, young groupies who helped pay for their pampered time in that big ole fancy hotel that was looming over our beat up van. I opened up the van door and got out to stretch. I looked around at the packed parking lot full of fans and was surprised that I still had yet to see Lizzie strut across the parking lot.

I refocused my attention back to the noisy crowd. If only I could get a few of these girls alone with Hawkins in an elevator, I could diminish the size of the crowd by half. Cutting out half the chatter could do wonders for my migraine. I might not even need the three aspirins I was shoving in my mouth at the moment.

I noticed Riley when he came out of the hotel. He was already on his second attempt to print off the MapQuest directions from the hotel’s internet for our next adventure. He complained that he couldn’t be expected to look up all the directions on his laptop because he’d be too busy writing his reviews, but I didn’t buy a word of it. Surveillance was tight because of who the hotel was housing at the moment, and judging by his expression, I guessed he didn’t succeed in meeting anyone from the band.

A few girls turned to look in his direction, which Riley was oblivious to, and I smiled to myself. He was ripped like a Calvin Klein model and he had a face to match it. Riley was hot. Hell, half the time I had to stop myself from looking at him.

“Did you get it?” I asked, trying to be optimistic as I pulled my hair up into a sloppy ponytail.

“Yeah,” he uttered with pure dejection while opening the passenger’s side door. “Here’s the MapQuest.”

Stunned but relieved, I grabbed the paper and mumbled, “Thank you.” I looked over the itinerary for the day. Sometimes I thought driving was the only sane thing we were doing on this trip which for no good reason reminded me. “Where is Lizzie?”

“Probably still hooking up with Warren,” he said in the same small, pathetic voice.

“Are you okay?”

“
Thank you
, for finally noticing,” he implied with a mocking edge.

“What’s up?”

“I tried to get on the elevator,” he confessed. “After I MapQuested, but not before I got you your bagel.” He passed me the bagel before he turned to slump in the open seat.

“What happened?” I asked while devouring the bagel since the donuts didn’t make it through the night.

“It wasn’t pretty,” he sighed. “They escorted me out.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, well, at least no one in the band saw it,” he recalled brightly. “But you know who did? Yeah, half the crew and almost the entire staff of the hotel; I’m sure of it. Three bodyguards, and almost,” he paused with a fake smile, “the fine police officers of whatever county my miserable ass is residing in at the moment.”

“Good times.” I nodded.

“Good times.” He nodded back.

I swung open the side door and grabbed a jug of water while listening to Riley ramble off a few more probable witnesses. I propped open the back where the engine was located while he continued telling me the vivid account of his story. Gosh, he was band crazy. Maybe it would have been better if Riley hadn’t missed that elevator ride last night with Hawkins. Then he would have used all this wasted fixation and attention on something more constructive like helping me take care of the van. I knew it did wonders for me when I was trying to block out unpleasant thoughts like being in this parking lot. But, as things were now, Riley and Lizzie just assumed this old van would miraculously endure the road like it was a Hummer or something. As if the van could make it on their sheer will and determination alone to follow the band around to every corner of the country.

Hunching down near the back, I twirled off the cap to the radiator. Tilting the jug, I carefully poured in the water until it was filled. I twirled the cap back on and proceeded to check the oil when I heard a small gasp from Riley before the fans started screaming around the parking lot.

I wiped the sweat off my brow before I turned to ask, “What is it?”

Riley pointed frantically over at the long, sleek tour bus that the band was slowly crossing over to from the hotel. A few bodyguards were positioned around the sidewalk to keep the fans at bay. I looked for Lizzie among the crowd, but my eyes were drawn to the only person staring back at me. I hardly recognized J.T. Hawkins without the sneer across his face. I noticed he was the only person who was seemingly unfazed by the cheering crowd around him as well.

I quickly took in his dark, disheveled hair, unshaven face, and pursed lips while he took a sip of his coffee. Yet what I noticed most were those penetrating blue eyes that had not moved off of me. Me, as in the only person that was seemingly unimpressed by his mere presence. The only one who was dressed in a white wife-beater, rolled up pink sweats, and a pony tail that was tilted off my head. Good times. I sighed as I curled my lip and fixed him with the most vicious glare in my arsenal of deadly looks. He seemed only amused by my behavior as he suppressed a smile,
not
insulted like I had hoped for. Note to self: must work on my deadly looks.

Realizing that Riley had stopped talking, I looked over at him. Riley seemed to have noticed the nonverbal exchange between the two of us before I slammed the hutch shut and looked away. I busied myself with wiping the oil off my hands with an old rag.

“Why is J.T. Hawkins looking at you like you’re the morning special?” Riley gawked.

“I don’t know.” I sighed as I continued to look away from the bus. “Last time I checked, he only preferred blondes.”

“Really!?” Riley ran a hand threw his sun kissed hair absentmindedly. “Oh, my god! I have to get his autograph!” He frantically grabbed up a black sharpie from the dashboard and the MapQuest sheets from my seat.

“Wait, not the directions!” I yelled after him as he ran like a freaking girl over to the crowd.

Crossing my arms, I glared over at the McDonald’s across the street, ignoring the end of the world worthy pandemonium that was right there in front of me. I waited for the sleek tour bus to leave, noticing that a few fans were actually running behind it. Seriously, it was their own stupidity if they got hit. I saw Riley break from the crowd to run over to me. Waving the once perfectly clear, crisp MapQuest sheets over his head manically, he announced, “I got J.T. Hawkins’ signature!”

I grabbed the sheets and looked them over. “Wonderful,” I sighed. “Now I can’t see what exit to take.”

“What is wrong with you?!” He grabbed the sheets back from me while jumping up and down. “He chose me!”

“What do you mean he chose
you,
you dancing nancy?”

“Wel,l I walked over there,” he announced dreamily.

“You walked?” I questioned.

“Whatever, stop interrupting or you won’t be invited to the wedding. Anyway as I was saying, I
quickly
walked over.”

“Ah, huh.” I humored him while he replayed the details of the story to his liking since I could still remember his shoes kicking his ass because he was running so fast.

“And he reached out for
my
paper while completely ignoring the other fans in front of me.” He grinned from ear to ear. “He
chose
me!”

“Oh, I got it now.” I nodded. “You’re just so smoking—”

“HOT,” Riley chimed in as we both laughed.

“Well, lookie here.” Riley let out a low whistle and I glanced over to see Lizzie strut her stuff across the parking lot. She made Gisele Bündchen
look like an inexperienced debutant in comparison.

“Well, hello, y’all little people.” She flashed her dazzling smile before she slinked past me into the open door of the van and laid down on the cot.

“Oh, god, I’m so tired. Wake me up when we get there,” she moaned.

“Oh, I know,” Riley nodded as he shut the van door, “being a ho is such hard work.”

“That’s right, Riley, I’m so good at what I do,” Lizzie gloated. “I should get paid for it.”

“I wish you would then you could stop mooching off of us,” I joked as I got in the driver’s seat and closed the door.

I looked over the directions covered in dark sharpie while shaking my head. I waited for Riley, my co-pilot on this derailed train wreck, to fasten his seat belt beside me. He grabbed the directions from my hands to cradle them again. I shifted the van into gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

“I’m so glad we’re finally leaving,” I muttered under my breath.

“You’re just upset.” Lizzie giggled. “Rules, hee hee.”

“Why don’t you just do what you do best, Lizzie,” I sighed, “and lay back down.”

“What’s this?” Riley asked.

Oh no, could we please not go over the nightmarish elevator ride again.

“J.T. Hawkins is pretty full of himself, isn’t he?” Lizzie winked at me through the rearview mirror.

Rolling my eyes, I exclaimed, “Thanks for throwing me under the bus last night!”

“Geez, I was just kidding. When are you going to live a little?”

“What’s this about Hawkins?” Riley asked.

“Oh, right.” Lizzie smiled. “It’s a match made in heaven.” She waved her hand across the sky from below. “They both seem to share the same lovely outlook on life.”

“I’d say thank you, if you were anyone else,” I added.

“Think they both know it all—”

“Just the stuff that matters.” I sighed.

“And here’s the real clincher,” Lizzie whispered to Riley, but still loud enough for me to hear. “They’re both not getting any.”

“J.T. Hawkins isn’t getting laid?” Riley asked in horror.

“Well, not last night from what I could tell. Even though Joie was with me in the elevator…” Lizzie drifted off.

“He turned you down?” Riley gasped.

“Oh, god,” I groaned while looking out at the highway. “How many more miles?”

“He turned her down?” Riley turned in his seat to ask Lizzie.

“Are we there yet?” I continued to have a conversation with myself.

“Shit, you don’t think he’s batting for Riley’s team, do you?” Lizzie contemplated.

“Do you?!” Riley turned to ask me enthusiastically.

“I don’t know? Why are you asking me? I’m clearly not good enough for him, though it’s not like I asked or anything.” Pushing the focus off me for once, I added, “And besides, whatever happened to Ryan?”   

“Oh, he’s still on the tour,” Lizzie said lightly.

“Yeah, that was the point.” Riley laughed.

“I’m moving up to the big leagues, guys.” She examined her nails with not a care in the world. “Oh, listen.” Lizzie crawled forward to turn up the radio dial. “It’s them on the radio!”

Soon the van was filled with music by The Grimm Brothers as Riley serenaded the two of us far beyond the city limits. We followed the song up with their debuting album that catapulted the band into the lime light a few years ago. Lizzie danced in the back as Riley pecked away on his laptop writing what was supposed to be last night’s concert review for the Grimm Brother’s official website (the only legitimate reason any of us had for following the band around) but out of the corner of my eye it looked like he was just surfing the web.

I gazed out at the Appalachian Mountains which jetted up on either side of the faded gray highway. Though I was on autopilot most of the time, the drive was a bit trickier than I would have liked. But by now I had become used to the cars that were steadily passing us by as we went up each hill because the van only went one speed: slow. It wasn’t long before Riley looked up from his computer and sighed heavily.

“I know,” I groaned. “This van doesn’t like steep inclines whether they’re up or down.”