Lost in You (13 page)

We could be together.

The loud chanting reverberates though my body. I get chills when they yell my name. My foot taps to the sounds coming from the crowd. They’re here to see me, which still amazes me. Tonight, for the first time in a long t
ime, I’m leaving right after the show. Alex and I are flying into Jackson. There will be no meet and greet, no radio show winners hanging out with me after the show. I’m taking time for me, something I’ve never done.

I take the stage and the crowd gets lou
der. The songs flow, the clothing and hair changes work, and the fans – they’re happy. When the lighting allows, I can see some of their faces. They’re smiling, laughing and some have tears in their eyes. I know for some of them this is a dream come true. They’ve been waiting years, saving pennies and traveling far distances to see me on this stage. For that, I’m thankful.

Alex meets me at the side, handing me my bottle of water. She’s packed our luggage and ordered a car to wait for us. She takes my hand
and guides me down the hall, opposite of where I need to go. Ian is expecting me in the pressroom. He’ll be pissed when I don’t show, but telling him what I’m about to do will only set him off. It’s not that he doesn’t want me in a relationship, it just needs to be on his terms and with someone he designates the ‘proper’ person.

Sadly, for me, Ian’s idea of a ‘proper’ person is not mine. He’s brought guys around before, but none that I’ve ever wanted to stay. The one Ian wants, the one that he deems good fo
r my image, is my ex and that’s not about to happen.

The driver is waiting by the car when we push open the side door. Alex follows me into the car, and the door slams behind us. Once the driver is in, we’re off.

“Excuse me, where is our luggage?”

“Already in the trunk, Ms. Carter,” the driver says before putting up the partition. I relax as soon as we hit the road away from the venue. Alex holds my hand, a grin spread across her face. She loves it every time we do something that undermines Ian. The
y’re not fans of each other. 

The drive to the airport is quick. I’m pleasantly surprised to find there are no lines at security. With our bags in hand, we run to our gate. We get there with a few minutes to spare. I’m asked for a few autographs, mostly f
rom young girls. Alex declines requests for photos.

We board before everyone else, which I never understood. Being in First Class, people walk by and recognize us, each one staring as they pass by. It would make sense for us to board last. I know people g
et tired of waiting though, so I get it.

I’m surprised to see how booked our flight is. Who knew Jackson was a travel destination? The flight attendant hands both of us a drink while we wait for everyone to board.

“Would you like something to eat?” she hands me a menu just as my stomach growls. Alex starts laughing and asks the flight attendant to come back. I look over the menu and even though I’m hungry, airplane food is so unappealing.

“It looks gross.”

“Not in first class.”

I tell Alex what I want and
she orders it for me. The flight attendant tells us that we’ll get it as soon as the captain gives the okay.

Alex hands me the paper, the same one I thought I left in the hotel. “I called a few that I liked since you didn’t bother to tell me which ones yo
u liked.”

“Alex—”

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t hurt to look.”

She’s right. I look over the list and see that I like them all. Alex knew that though. I look over at her, her eyes closed, but she’s trying not to smile. I bump her arm with mine and she br
eaks out in giggles.

“So, are we taking up residence in Jackson for a bit?”

I want to say no, I do, but I can’t get over how convenient it would be for me to carry on with Ryan and I hope that he’d want me close, at least until he turns eighteen. 

Once i
n the air, Alex and I eat and make small talk with the people next to us. They’re from Jackson and overheard us talking about buying a house. The man is a real estate agent and offers to help me find a house. I take his card and promise to call him. The woman is an interior decorator and Alex snags her card right away.

“You know, that’s the business we should go into.”

“What’s that?” I ask her.

“You buy houses and I’ll decorate and we’ll sell them for profit.”

“Defeats the idea, don’t you think?”

Alex shrug
s and picks up her book and starts reading. I lean back, closing my eyes. I conjure up an image of Ryan and I sitting on my couch, enjoying the privacy of a home. Thinking about him makes me realize that I won’t be able to see Ryan tonight, but tomorrow is a different story.

I startle when the captain comes on to tell us we’re about to land. I must’ve fallen asleep. Moments later, our plane touches down. The only thing I can think about is Ryan. I pull out my cell phone and text him.

I’m in town

I barely p
ut my phone away before it vibrates. I pull it back out and smile.

I can’t wait to see you. Tell me where and I will be there

I can’t hide the elation and show Alex the text message.

“I told you so.” 

Ryan

I think telling
Dylan I’d go to Homecoming with her is a mistake, but I can’t change my mind now. She’s told my mom. If I knew she was going to do that I would’ve said no. I’ve always known Dylan to be sneaky, especially with her parents, but I didn’t expect her to burst in after dinner with magazines to show my mom the dresses she’s thinking about.

I wanted to run into my room and hide under the bed. Instead, I was forced to sit at the table while they gushed over things I have no interest in. I think I took up the art of
eye-rolling every time I heard ‘this is perfect’. My mom should’ve had a girl.

Dylan finally left, leaving me to deal with my mom all by myself. I want to tell her that I really don’t want to take Dylan to the dance and that I only said yes because she’s
my friend and I knew it would make her happy.

But the look on my mom’s face, when she put her hand on my cheek and smiled, I knew I couldn’t say those words to her. I said goodnight and went to my room to wait for Hadley’s call.

Only Hadley doesn’t call, she texts telling me she is in town. The moment I received her text I wanted to jump out my window and run to her. Unrealistic, I know, but I need to see her. I need to know she’s real and that what I was feeling when she was here is still the same. That the simple touch of her turns my skin into flames. I want to remember the burn.

I hate waiting. I hate knowing that she’s two hours away and that I can’t be with her. I pace my room, listening for my parents. I’ve grown weary of them since the incident at
church. They didn’t ask me about Hadley, I wish they did. I wanted to be able to say I’ve met someone that I want to get to know better.

But they don’t ask.

They just stare.

They walk around and look at me out of the corner of their eyes. My dad will sha
ke his head or mumble something under his breath as he walks by, but nothing else. Don’t they care? I held a girl’s - no, a woman’s – hand in church. Someone they don’t know and have never seen and they can’t be bothered to ask me who she is.

My mom, asid
e from Dylan coming over, hasn’t said anything to me. She hasn’t asked about my homework or my work schedule. She hasn’t even asked me how school is going. It’s like I don’t exist. I’m afraid to interrupt her. If she’s not cooking, her nose is buried in her Bible and I know not to bug her while she’s reading. Yet, she’s always reading and probably praying for my salvation.

I look at my phone; she hasn’t texted back. I wish I knew where she was staying because I would go there. I don’t care how long it tak
es me to walk. Knowing Hadley is at the end of the road waiting for me makes it all worth it.

But is she waiting? I second-guess her and myself. What if she’s here to tell me we can’t be anything but friends, especially after her manager saw the pictures o
f us? Pictures I still haven’t seen and would like to. I’d like to have at least one picture of us together. A memory.

The thought of her not wanting to be with me eats away at me, like a thousand fire ants biting and pinching into my skin. The itch is th
ere, the desire to be something to her, yet I’m afraid to scratch because of who she is.

Guys at school talk about her. I hear all about the things they want to do to her. I don’t know if this is normal, I’ve never liked a celebrity before. The only person
I can ask is Dylan, but I’m afraid of what she might say. I know she doesn’t like me talking to Hadley. The look Dylan gave me in the courtyard was evidence enough. I wonder if Dylan feels like this is her fault. Does she not want me to be happy?

Hadley c
an make me happy. I know this deep down in my heart. I don’t care about the girl all the guys are fawning over. They don’t know the
real
Hadley. They only think they know the one who stands on stage night after night singing her heart out.

They don’t know
that she likes to be held or how soft her hair is. They don’t know what her lips taste like or how they mold and fit perfectly against mine. These are secrets that I know about her and intend to keep.

When my parents’ door shuts, I know this is my cue. I
have to text her. I can’t wait any longer. Tomorrow is too far away. I need to see her now.

I need to see you.

I pace back and forth, no doubt wearing a hole into the carpet with my hand in my hair, tugging at the ends. I keep looking at my phone, counting the seconds, minutes, until I see her name appear on my screen.

What’s taking her so long?

She doesn’t drive. Or maybe she does. I’ve only ever seen her get into a car and Alex was driving, but maybe Alex isn’t with her this trip. No, I’m sure she is. They are inseparable. Why isn’t she texting me back?

I look at my message, it says
delivered
. I know she got it. Unless her phone is off. No, her phone is never off. Maybe her manager came with her and is keeping her busy.

I don’t know. I
don’t know anything right now. 

My parents’ door opens and closes again. There are faint footsteps. They stop in front of my door. I step carefully to my bed and sit on the edge. I slide as quietly as I can onto my mattress, cautious of alerting whoever i
s standing at my door that I’m awake.

They’ve never done this. At least, that I’m aware of. I can’t tell if someone is still at my door or not. My phone vibrates in my hand. Hadley is calling me, her gorgeous face lighting up my screen. I can’t answer it,
not now.

I hit ignore and immediately feel my stomach drop. She’s going to think I don’t want to talk to her and that’s not true. I need to tell her before she has these thoughts.

Parents are up and standing at my door.

She’s going to run for the hills.
I would if I received a text like that. There are more footsteps and another door opens and closes. I can make out some movement. A light comes on, illuminating the hallway. Shadows pass in front of my door, but they don’t stop. Maybe they were just checking to make sure I’m asleep.

Call me soon. I’m at the church ;)

I look down at my phone and re-read the words that she sent. Relief washes over me. She does want to see me and couldn’t wait, but does that mean she’s here to break-up? I won’t let her, I can’t. She makes me feel alive. She makes me feel things I’ve never felt and I want to explore those feelings with her.

I have to sneak out. That is the only answer.

I’m on my way.

She’s worth getting in trouble for. That is what I tell myself. She’d do the
same thing for me. I get up, not worrying about the noise. I pull up my blinds and slide my window open. Getting out is the easy part. I hoist myself up and onto the windowsill and jump. I look back, half expecting my bedroom light to be on. I slide my window shut, leaving just enough of a gap so I can open it later.

I walk along the house, peering around the corner. I don’t see any movement. Nothing to alert me that someone is out there lurking around like me. I duck under the kitchen window and turn the
corner, hurrying along the side of the house. My shoes squeak in the wet grass, likely leaving footprints marking my escape.

When I get to the front, I look at the picture window. I notice there are candles burning in the living room. They’re red, casting
an eerie glow. Never have I seen my mom burn a candle. I didn’t even know we owned any. I look harder, stepping closer. My mom is sitting on the floor, a book in her lap, probably her Bible.

I turn away and run as fast as I can until I’m at the end of th
e street. I don’t know what I just witnessed, but I definitely don’t want to see it again. I slow down and jog the rest of the way to the church. I wonder if my mom will check on me. I sort of hope she does so that she’ll at least talk to me.