Over It (The Kiss Off #2) (22 page)

Even Hamish was back, but I hadn’t even woken when he arrived, I must have been that exhausted. My stomach fluttered uncomfortably as I saw Nikki lying on her side facing toward me, Hamish’s arm draped over her; snuggled up and spooning her. Wasn’t sure what I’d missed there, but I had a pretty good idea. I looked worriedly at Mads’s peacefully sleeping form and wondered just how much drama we were in for when she discovered Hamish had chosen Nikki.

I love Mads. I do, but lordy she’s draining.

The neon green of the alarm clock between the beds read 5:37am, so it technically wasn’t the middle of the night, but the ass crack of dawn. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, but through the gap between the curtains the sky seemed a little lighter, a brand new day about to begin.

I slowly and carefully reached for my lyric book on the nightstand and flipped through the ideas we had come up with last night. Thank God I had written them down because as I paged through, I had no recollection of a single word.

When you look at me I smile

Because what we had wasn’t worthwhile

You were like a tornado

And that’s too destructive for me, oh

So instead I gots my girls with me

And we going, we going to paaaarty.

Huh. So maybe last night I hadn’t been at my most poetic. I grabbed the pen and scribbled it all out and tossed the book back on the nightstand. I scrubbed at my face with my hands, trying to wipe away the sleepy fog, and slid silently out from under the covers, careful not to disturb anyone. I grabbed the guitar, and padded across the thick carpet to the balcony and slipped out the glass door. The room was surprisingly soundproof, it seemed. I leaned against the railing and looked out at the grounds, listening to the hum of electricity, air conditioning units hard at work, voices traveling from open windows and the movement of trolleys and carts as the morning crew swapped shifts with the night staff.

Beyond it all, I could hear the faint roar of the ocean as waves crashed on the private beach beyond the tree–line. The sky stretched as far as I could see, the darkness of night fading to a blue–grey at the horizon as the sun slowly made its way toward the sky. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been up and awake to see the sun rise. It was beautiful. I sat on the wrought iron lacework chair and propped my feet against the railing, watching the sky turn orange, the clouds shades of gray and blue with orange streaking through from the sun as it rose. I took deep breaths of the cool breeze that rustled tree leaves down in the manicured gardens. The wind pulled a couple of leaves from their branches and twirled them in the air before gently placing them in the pool. Someone would have to fish those out before the first guests descended. They probably had time.

I sighed, only half awake, and plucked random strings on the guitar. What was this song going to be about? I had to narrow it down, but what if they didn’t like it? What if I chose wrong?

I ran through a couple of Debutante Dolls songs in my head and strummed, winging a whole new song on the fly.

It’s Friday night

And I feel alright

We’re going out tonight

Oh, oh, oh

I sighed. Did I really want to write something so meaningless? I guess something like this would be a party song, and that’s what they wanted, so…

DJ’s hot and the music’s tight

Then you turn up and start a fight

And I’m like ‘Baby, that’s just not right’

Oh no, no no…

Ugh, no
.
Maybe. Who was I kidding?
No
.

I leaned my head against the seatback and rubbed my eyes wearily. I looked around the hotel grounds; the lawn; the outdoor restaurant seating; the topiary dolphin. I looked at the pool and noticed someone sitting on a lounger reading a magazine.

Oh, hey – it was Lana.

I scrolled through my cell contacts list, hit dial and watched her check the readout from behind her shades.

“Hi,” she said, sounding surprised.

“I see you…” I said, standing and walking to the balcony rail. She sat up and peered around.

“Up here,” I waved my hand high above my head until she saw me and waved back, a smile lighting up her whole face.

“Isn’t Ty in the penthouse?”

“…Yes,” I replied.

Lana was silent for a moment. “You want to come down?” she asked. “Or I could come up…”

“My friends are sleeping,” I said. “I’ll come to you.”

I snuck out of the room and joined her poolside on the sun loungers, a magazine draped across her lap.

“What are you doing up so early?” I asked as I sat down, guitar, lyric book and pencil beside me.

She patted a suitcase with her purse sitting on top of it. I hadn’t noticed it beside her. “Going home,” she said. “Going home. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d wait out here.” She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head, scraping her long platinum hair back from her face.

“Oh, wow…” I didn’t know what to say. “Are you okay?” I asked.

She thought for a moment, staring at the magazine, avoiding my gaze, and then said, “Yeah. I am.”

“I saw Tommy on the phone last night…” I said carefully, not sure if I should even be broaching the subject. “So I kind of thought-”

“Yeah, we talked. He changed his mind about us; he wants to get back together,” she said. Before I could reply, she added, “but I said no.”

My head jerked back an inch with surprise. “
Really
?” Images flashed into my mind of that groupie all up on Tommy in the elevator. “You know what? Good for you,” I said.

She looked up from her magazine and blinked at me a couple of times. “I didn’t think you’d say that.”

“I like Tommy,” I said quickly, “don’t get me wrong, but…” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to finish that sentence. He probably hadn’t been cheating on her. But they’d been together so long; for him to be hooking up with randoms the day after they broke up, it made me wonder if he’d even loved her at all.

It was none of my business.

“I guess it was all just a big shock; I was scared of change or something. But now that I have a bit of distance from the whole thing, I’m trying to look at him from the outside, look at us, our relationship…

“He just assumed I was going to be around all the time, you know? That wherever he was I’d be there for him when he felt like some action. Like what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be didn’t matter to him anymore. It used to, but now…”

I sat in silence, listening, as her words hit too close to home; hit me in the heart.

“We were going to go to college together, did you know that?” she continued. “Before Faux Hawk signed them and they dropped out. We wanted to go to Berkley. I got in, too.”

“You got in to Berkley?” I asked with a happy smile.

She nodded excitedly.

My own smile drooped as I remembered that she hadn’t actually gone.

“I could have gone without him,” Lana said, “not that I wanted to, but I didn’t because he asked me to come with him here; come on this big rock stardom adventure. He begged me to.”

I could imagine this side of Tommy. I hadn’t seen it often, he was kind of a macho guy, but sometimes I’d caught a glimpse of his tender side when he was alone with Lana and thought no one had been watching. I’d seen him kiss her fingertips and her nose. Slow dance under a streetlight at 3am while everyone else went into the 7–11 to buy candy bars and pee. I wondered when she’d last seen that side of him.

“Was the big adventure worth it?” I asked.

She thought for a minute. “It’s been eye–opening, I guess. How fame changes people.”

“Yeah,” I said, staring at the guitar, running my fingers gently across the strings.

“I’m kind of looking forward to college,” she said with a happy sigh. “Getting back to my own life.”

She stopped talking for a moment and stared at the pages of her magazine like she wasn’t even seeing the pictures. “And it’s true. I’m glad he dumped me. I’m not his slave. I’m more than a vagina on legs, you know?”

“Damn right I know,” I said. “You’ve done a lot of thinking this past twenty–four hours.”

She sat up straight and gave me a bright smile. “What else was I going to do? And you know what? I feel good. I feel… I don’t know. Empowered.”

We both sat back silently and stared ahead of us. The sun had risen and a couple of people had sat at the restaurant’s outdoor tables, enjoying the quiet of the new day.

Lana nodded toward the guitar across my lap. “How’s your song coming?”

“Not good.”

“When does it need to be done by again?”

“Twelve hours and counting.”

“What have you got so far?”

“Nothing good,” I said and slammed the back of my head against the seat a couple of times with frustration.

Then I stopped and looked at Lana. Really looked at her.

She quirked an eyebrow uncertainly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Lana had just broken up with her boyfriend and she was feeling good. She was feeling strong, she was feeling empowered. Wasn’t that like the definition of girl power or something?

“I think I’m looking at my inspiration for a girl power, independent woman kind of song.”

“Me?” Lana asked with a flattered smile.

“Yeah, you,” I said.

She beamed at me, then tossed the magazine into my lap. It was open to a double–page photo spread of Kendra from the Debutante Dolls, looking drab; make–up–free and with her hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head. The headline splashed across the pictures declared
Been Here Before: Kendra’s Divorce Woes. “I Married a Sex Addict!”

“Jesus,” I said, staring at the page.

Lana tapped the main, unflattering, image. “I bet she’d be on board with a song like that.”

I grinned at Lana, my stomach fluttering, chest clenching with excitement as inspiration began to boil within me.

I might just be able to do this after all.

After I don’t know how long, I did it: I had a song. After all that angsting, I had a song and while I sat there with Lana it had practically flooded out of me fully–formed. I needed to work a little on the bridge but for the most part it was done.

And it was good, I thought. Was it good? I honestly couldn’t tell. I thought it might be.

It had to be.

Fans had started crowding the fence–line again so I figured it was time to go back inside. Lana and I walked back into the lobby. She walked me to the elevator and pressed the button for me.

“I guess this is it,” I said, looking at her case beside her. “The adventure’s over.”

She nudged me with her hip and said, “I’ll see you at home.”

“Promise?” I said.

She wrapped me in a warm goodbye hug. “Promise.”

I quietly opened the door to our room and found Hamish and Nikki exactly as I’d left them, but the bed I had shared with Mads was empty. A head poked around the curtains and Mads waved to me from the balcony. I carefully placed the guitar, pen and book on the bed and tip–toed over to join her.

She slid the door open with one hand, a novel in the other.

“’Morning,” I whispered.

“I didn’t even notice you get up,” she said, sliding the door closed behind me.

I glanced back into the dark room at the snuggling couple; my muscles stiffened as Mads caught me, and craned her neck around to see.

Shit.

I watched her rat’s nest of bed hair until she turned back around, facing me again.

“Sorry,” I said quietly and nodded my head behind her. “About that.”

She shrugged and sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”

I quirked my eyebrows at her, sceptically. It didn’t matter? When did this happen?

“Even if I
was
really into him, like I’d have a chance after my complete and utter meltdown yesterday,” she said.

Not that I could read Hamish’s mind or anything, but that’s what I’d think too if I’d gone as postal at the beach as she had.

“Can I tell you something?” she whispered, holding her cell up to her face and pressing the screen on. I hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding it. She seemed surgically attached to that thing this weekend.

“Hit me.”

“I’ve kind of been texting with Dev a bit.”

“Oh, really?” I asked.

“Just like, twenty or thirty texts,” she said, “that’s all.”

“
Breaking News Alert
. Since when?”

“Last night.”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. “But we were-”

“After you passed out.”

“Can you tell me about that?” I asked. “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“I’m not surprised. You were mid–sentence and your words went all slurry and quiet and your eyes rolled back in your head a bit and you were out.”

I balked at her. “Did you check I was breathing?”

She waved my concern away. “You were alright. Anyway, I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“Dev!” She slapped her hands over her mouth and we both looked through the door and checked for movement. Through the glass we heard Hamish fart. I assumed it was Hamish. Our shoulders shook as we both did that trying–to–be–silent wheezy laugh that can give you a sore throat if you do it too long. The more we tried not to laugh out loud, the harder we failed, and in the end the laugh came out my nose in snorts.

I scratched an itch on my shoulder and I forgot what was funny because pain ripped through it like it was on fire.

Mads winced in sympathy as I swore like a sailor. “How’s your sunburn today?”

“
Mostly
okay,” I said, sitting up and inspecting my arms, chest and shoulders. “Except when I forget and do something like that. Aside from right now, it doesn’t hurt too bad. I’m going to peel like a cicada though.”

“That’s hot,” Mads said. “Can I ask you something else?”

“If it’s ‘do you think as soon as I get home I should go and see Dev and offer to be his friend and be there for him if or when he wants to talk or whatever’, then my answer is: ‘you bet I do’.”

Mads smiled. “That wasn’t my question, but it was a good answer. My question was actually about Nikki.” She paused and gazed out at the pool, the trees, the sky. “I pushed her too far last night, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You did.”

She grimaced. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?

Wait… where was this coming from? “I don’t know. Do you care?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, really,” I said, “do you want her to?”

Mads scrunched up her face like she was in pain and squirmed in her seat. “Okay, so it’s kind of hard for me to admit this, but…”

“Out with it.”

“Maybe I don’t think she’s the devil. Maybe she’s not
that
bad.”

“Shocking,” I said, shaking my head.

She gave me a withering look. “The way she stood up for herself with the whole slut thing last night, and everything else I put her through. And she
has
been trying to bury the hatchet this weekend. Not in my back, either, which is cool.”

“She
is
cool.”

“And though I still think my ideas were totally better, she did have some good ideas for your song. And we both know her taste in clothes is kind of rad. Do you think she’d buy it if I told her that everything was just, like, hazing? A friendship test?”

I just looked at her.

“No?”

I still didn’t say anything.

“Shit,” she said. “I have to apologize, don’t I.”

I smiled, which made Mads groan. “I’m proud of you, Mads,” I said, leaning forward and patting her arm.

She yanked her arm out of my reach. “Shut up.” She sighed, brooding. “This is going to suck.”

She gazed down at the grounds and something seemed to catch her eye. “Hey, check it out. The fans are up early,” she said, nodding down to the garden and pool fence. A dozen or so girls had amassed there, full of hopeful innocence at the chance of spotting their favorite band.

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “They’re why I came inside, actually.”

“Do you think Ty’s stalker is one of them?” Mads asked.

Hmm. It was a good question. I hadn’t heard a peep about her from him all last night, but I suppose at the club we’d had other things on our minds. And besides, he knew how I felt about her so he’d have to be a moron to tell me if she was around.

“Do you know what she looks like?” Mads asked. “That one looks like she could be a bit of a weirdo, don’t you think?”

“I doubt it’s her,” I said. “Sounds like she’s fairly normal, you know? She’d have to be, since he’s so chilled about the whole thing. I don’t think he’d be so chill if she looked like a female uni–bomber or like she had a few screws loose.”

We watched the girls at the fence for a while, in their band tee shirts, holding homemade banners, magazines and markers. And cameras and cell phones. Lots and lots of cameras and cell phones. Mads thought the stalker could be the super–tall blond one who towered over the other girls, whereas I thought the petite Spanish girl with the hair to her ass had potential. At least I thought she was Spanish. They were so far away we couldn’t see their faces, but she was either Hispanic or just really, really tan.

There was a muffled thump inside and we both looked into the room, but there was no movement.

Silence. Had we both just imagined that? Then the thumps started again. Four bangs.

“Is that the door?” Mads asked.

Oh, right.

I hurried into the room, tip–toed past the sleeping beauties and over to the door. The chain was latched, so I opened it a crack and peeked out.

It was a tall, somewhat lanky but very handsome musician, his hair still damp from the shower, and he was carrying a keyboard.

“Hi,” I whispered.

“Hi,” Ty whispered back.

I motioned behind me. “Nikki and Hamish are still sleeping.” I was pretty surprised at that, to be honest. Clearly I was doing a better job of keeping my voice down than I thought. My mom would be so proud of me. Oh crap. I should give her a call.

“Hold on.” I unhooked the chain and stepped out into the hallway in my PJ shorts that you could barely see under my long, loose tank.

“Sorry, didn’t know if you’d be awake,” Ty said.

“I’m up. Mads and I are just talking.”

“Cool.” Ty nodded. “Listen, we’re heading out, I’m supposed to be in the car by now, but I’ve been thinking. I was thinking about it all night…”

“Mmm?” I said, non–committally crossing my arms against my chest.

“You were right last night, I was acting like a jack ass.”

I bristled at the mention of it, memories of the idiotic fight flooded back into my mind. My blood pressure rose as I tried to push down my anger and frustration at the whole thing.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “you were a jack ass. We completely wasted our time going out to make everything better, because it’s not. It’s worse.”

“I’m sorry spending time with me was such a waste,” he said sarcastically, just like he’d said last night.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” I said. Were we going to go around on this one again? If he wanted to be a dick and twist my words around, so be it. This was one hell of a way to start the morning, though. “I have one day left to write and record an amazing demo and I wasn’t able to think because of all the fires that have to be stomped out every time I’m near you,” I said.

He didn’t reply.

“What did you guys decide, anyway? What’s the big game plan for fall out from last night?”

“No comment.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“No, I mean that’s the game plan,” he said, “no comment. Ignore the questions. Brush it off like it never happened until it’s over.”

He had to be kidding me. It was alright for that to be
my
game plan, but after the multi–hour crisis meeting last night… he was a big star. He had to do
something
.

“Seriously?” I asked. “How long did it take you guys to come up with that?”

“Whatever, Poppy. I’ve gotta go. Here.” He handed me the keyboard without even a smile. “Thought you might need it for recording.”

“Thanks,” I said cordially. “This is brilliant, actually. Where did you get it?”

“Richard, one of the session guys, loaned it to me. He brought a spare. He needs it back tonight though, of course, but not until bump out. You’ve used Studio Time before?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. I’d dabbled in it when editing my videos for YouTube. It was pretty nifty recording software.

“Good. Just use the keyboard for drums and bass and stuff. Piano…”

I smiled weakly. He didn’t.

We just stood there, tensely staring at each other for a minute. He was helping me, but the set of his jaw, the coldness to his eyes… he didn’t necessarily want to. He was just a decent guy, was all.

“This is important, Ty,” I said. “This could be huge for me.”

“And I thought you came all the way here to see me.”

“I came to have fun with my friends
and
see you,” I said. Wait…was that helping my point? “And are you seriously telling me if an opportunity like this came along you wouldn’t have jumped at it?”

He rubbed his hands through his hair so hard that it stuck up everywhere. He’d need a stylist to fix that mess before he went on stage today.

“I think we need to cut this out for a bit, Poppy.”

“What?” I asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t deal with the drama anymore.”

“
You
can’t deal with the drama?” I asked, incredulous. “I’m the one who can’t deal with the freaking drama!”

“I think we need to take a break.”

I glowered at him, clenching my hands around the keyboard in my arms. “Fine,” I said. “Sounds good to me.”