Over It (The Kiss Off #2) (9 page)

“Are you quite finished?” I asked.

“Absolutely.”

He slid the door open, gave a final wave and scurried inside. With the door closed again and the curtains drawn, his jovial smile fell. He was just as embarrassed as I was. And frustrated. He let out a sigh, pecked me on the forehead and flopped onto the bed next to Jeri, Mads and Nikki.

“What the hell just happened?” Jeri asked.

Ty patted the bed next to him and I sat down beside him, his arm around my waist.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Jeri, tell Poppy about Lana.”

And with that, the subject was dropped.

"Yes, right. So, Lana has turned into a crazy person," Jeri said. "Swear to God, I love her, but Tommy broke up with her a couple of days ago and she flipped out. She's turned into a psycho, I don’t know what to do. She’s my best friend but it’s like it flicked a switch in her and I swear, she’s on the verge of 'I'm going to come back to stab you in your sleep' type of psycho."

"Our Lana?" I said. “No way.”

"I wouldn’t believe it either except it’s happening. I didn’t know she had this side to her. I've
never
seen her like this."

“It sucks,” Ty said, playing with my hand and entwining our fingers. I leaned against him and stroked his hair with my other hand. “I love Lana,” he continued, “but she’s making their break up weird and crap for all of us.”

"Jeez," I said. Tommy must have done a number on her.

Jeri sighed.

“Poor Lana,” Nikki said.

I had to agree.

Jeri raised her eyebrows.

“She’s obviously heart broken,” Nikki continued.

Everyone was quiet for a moment. She was right, of course Lana was heart–broken; she and Tommy had been together a long time; years. It was actually kind of surprising that Jeri wasn’t more sympathetic, but I guess we’d missed the atomic explosion and had simply arrived just in time for the fallout.

"I always saw it in her," Mads said. We all looked at her. "What? The crazy was totally in there, the crazy under the surface. She's had the capacity to turn rabid wolf on him this whole time."

Nikki snorted and rolled her eyes.

Oh no.

Mads stood up straighter and put a hand on her hip. "You think I'm lying?"

"Yeah," Nikki said, stepping closer to Mads, mirroring her stance. "I think you're lying."

This was bad.

Jeri blinked at them, not sure what had just happened, and I stepped in the middle. "Okay girls, back to your corners."

They both glared at each other.

"How about we change the subject, huh?” Jeri said brightly. She looked pointedly at Ty. “Why don’t we talk about Ty’s stalker, instead?"

"Say what now?" I said, swivelling around to face him.

“Aargh,” Ty groaned. He closed his eyes exasperatedly and threw a pillow at Jeri.

She caught it and hit his legs with it. “Don’t ‘aaargh’ me,” she said, grabbing his foot as he tried to kick her.

"Give it a rest, Jeri. She's not a stalker."

"God, alright, a 'super fan'," Jeri said, flicking her fingers in air quote marks. I got the feeling they’d had this conversation before. "Whatever. Seriously, though.” She turned her attention to me, Nikki and Mads. “She's a stalker."

"It's just this girl who's really into the band," Ty explained, "and she follows us around sometimes. It's nothing."

"
All
the time," Jeri said.

"It's not a big deal!" Ty said. "It's flattering. And I haven’t even seen her today so it’s not
all
the time, Jeri."

"First stalker," Mads said, "You've made the big time."

Ty sighed but seemed to decide it wasn’t a battle worth fighting. He climbed to his feet on the mattress, bounced a couple of times on the Egyptian cotton sheets them jumped off the bed. "Come out and meet the guys," he said. Hauling us up off the bed, one by one, he ushered us out of the bedroom.

Someone died in the game just as we walked out. Archie and Seb finally turned around to see who the new arrivals were and their eyes lit up when they saw me.

Before I had the chance to duck for cover, Archie had lumbered over the back of the couch, Seb had pushed one of the strangers out of the way and I was dive tackled by the both of them, flattened with an "oof" into a Poppy–shaped mark on the carpet.

As I stared, stunned, up at the ceiling, I spotted Ty and Tommy bent at the waist, laughing, Mads sucking her lips together, trying not to giggle, and Hamish and Nikki wondering what the hell had just happened.

"Hi Poppy," Archie said, his long red hair dangling in my face as he and Seb lay in a heap on top of me. They wrapped their arms awkwardly around me and Seb smooshed his cheek against mine.

"Uh..." I couldn’t feel my arm. I thought that was probably a good thing.

"What's news, Longstocking?" Seb said.

One of my arms was pinned underneath me and the other had flailed out to the side in the fall. I reached out and patted Archie on the back of his neck and Seb (I think) awkwardly on the back.

"Nice to see you guys too."

"You grabbing for my ass?"

I clenched my hand into a fist and started punching him in the back instead. "Get off me!"

"I think that's enough of that," I heard Ty say and Archie let out a strangled sound as he was heaved off me by the back of his shirt. Seb rolled off, sitting next to me, wiggling his eyebrows at me with a Cheshire cat grin on his face. I sighed witheringly and Jeri hit him in the head with a couch cushion.

“You know Lexie De Graff is here, right?” Seb said, excitement in his eyes. “Your all–worship–all–the–time idol?”

“Wait,” Ty said, narrowing his eyes. “How does
he
know you love Lexie and I didn’t?”

“Because I watched the Poppy Longstocking channel before it became cool,” Seb said. “I watched every episode and you didn’t.”

Episodes. I’d never really considered my YouTube videos, my songs and rants and updates as being episodes. It was cool that Seb, a then total stranger, had watched all of them. Bit weird he knew more about me than my boyfriend did, though.

“You’re
her
super fan,” Ty said.

“Yes, yes he is.” Jeri perched herself on Seb’s knee and curled her arm casually around his shoulders.

Seb looked confused. “We all knew that though, right?”

"Ty tells me you guys have a super fan of your own," I said, taking Ty's hand and letting him pull me to my feet. I dusted down my cargo pants only to find there was nothing to dust down. It seemed housekeeping were good at their job.

"That girl who follows us around?" Seb asked. "No, Academy of Lies doesn't have a super fan. Your boy over there does.” He pointed to Ty.

"Like I said," Jeri added, "stalker."

"Yeah, she's everywhere," a familiar voice said. He flicked a glance nervously at me and pushed his brown hair out of his eyes. He flapped his hand around in the air at me in a nervous wave.

“You,” I said. I don’t know how I hadn’t recognized him on Skype. He was one of The Himbos.

With two steps, Ty was in front of the guy and had him struggling in a head lock. He mashed his fist into the guy's hair.

"Gordo’s never touching my stuff again, isn’t that right Gordo?” Ty said, jerking backward as the guy flailed. “Seriously, though Poppy, she's harmless. There’s nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried," I said, plastering a confident smile on my face. "I trust you. And I’m well aware that you have a million super–fans." Images flashed in my mind of magazine spreads in which skanky girls had been mauling my boyfriend. I'd been stupid enough to believe the stories back then. But I had to learn: I may not like it, but super–fan girls in love with my boyfriend were simply a part of life when dating a rock star. I had to trust him.

Whether this super–fan could be trusted, who knew, but it didn't sound too serious.

"This, by the way," Ty said, motioning to the guy in the head lock, "is Gordo, and these guys..."

I looked around at the three other guys standing with us. They were wearing chino shorts and skinny jeans, fitted tees and short sleeved shirts buttoned to their necks in checks, sky blues and mint greens. Two of the guys were total bottle blonds (I would know). “…Are just some strays we picked up on the road.”

Ty had told me they'd been hanging out with the guys from another Faux Hawk Records band, The Himbos, who also did a lot of power pop and punk rock but hadn't quite hit the stratosphere of super stardom like Academy of Lies had yet. They’d been opening for the Academy all across the country. I tried really hard not to glance at Mads and see if she was drooling on the floor.

"Ty has actually told me all about you," I said, “all of you, I mean.”

"Lies, lies I tell you!" Gordo said. Wrenching himself free of Ty, he lost his balance, tripped over the back of the couch and disappeared from sight. We could hear him breathing heavily, but he didn't reappear. "Don't believe any of it."

But it was too late. Ty had mentioned they were good guys, laid back, fun to have around.

I kinda believed every word.

The next morning, I woke up sticky. Lying on twigs and small rocks covered over in plastic digging into my back, the level of ache increased at the same pace as my alertness.

I peeled off the sleeping bag, which clung to my bare arms and squinted at the nylon ceiling, through which the sun was shining somewhere high in the sky. Inside the tent, everything was tinted orange – Mads and Nikki's empty sleeping bags, the pile of luggage and toiletries in a mound in the middle. The shadows that passed right beside me, within inches: all orange. I scooted a little closer to the pile of clothing as the soft tread of feet on grass and leaves passed right beside me.

That was disconcerting. Slowly, I crawled toward the tent flap, unzipped the door and started to climb out but my foot snagged on the lip of the doorway and I sprawled face first into the grass.

Of course, Hamish was standing outside the tent and witnessed the whole thing. I could tell by the way he exploded with laughter and didn't even offer to help me up.

He held a plastic mug to his mouth and with an 'I can't believe I just witnessed that' shake of the head, he said, "Classic Douglas," and chugged the rest of his drink. “I forgot you were such a spazz.”

I wanted to get up and push him over but instead, checked my knees and elbows for bruises, cuts or grazes. I was okay.

"Oh my gosh, are you alright?" a female voice asked, rushing over. I squinted up at her and a beautiful girl with cream blonde hair shielded me from the summer glare, a halo forming around her head.

"Morning, Astrid," I said.

"Here." She took my hand, pulling me to my feet.

That wasn't embarrassing at all.

I looked at her white shorts and apricot tank that she looked perfect against her tan. Her blonde hair was wild with beach waves today. Kind of looked like mine on a good day, but better.

"Thanks," I mumbled, scrunching my toes uncomfortably into the grass. Maybe I should have changed out of my Piglet pajama shorts and Rainbow Brite tank top before leaving the tent.

Hamish handed me a mug of coffee.

"Wow, thank you," I said.

He shrugged. "Don't look so surprised. You act like I'm this big jack ass."

Well...kind of. "I wouldn't say
jack ass
..." Truth was I couldn't peg him at all. He certainly wasn't nerdy, weedy Hamish anymore – he had reinvented himself as a beer–guzzling, douche bag frat boy who laughed at girls when they fell down instead of helping them up. I took a sip of my coffee. But then he turned around and was all thoughtful and did things like this.

Three college–age girls appeared out of the bushes that led to the beach, each with wet hair and towels thrown over their shoulders, making no attempt to conceal their skimpy string bikinis.

I watched Hamish watch them as they passed.

He said, "Hello,
ladies
." Then he went and did things like that. Ick.

He’d said it in such a creeper way as they walked by that it made me shudder with repulsion.

Astrid grimaced, but the corner of her lips kept pulling up in an amused smile.

I could
not
figure him out. I looked around the camp site.

"Where are Mads and Nikki?"

I was pleased to see that they were both gone. Potentially together. Potentially not fighting. Potentially making friends?

"Wow," Hamish said. "You're a heavy sleeper. You didn't hear their cat fight this morning?"

All my potential hope deflated like a balloon.

"Do you know what they were fighting about?"

"Nope," he said, "all I know is whenever they caught me looking, they gave me these big smiles then went back to practically tearing each other's hair out. It creeped me out."

So it seemed it was a tie for Hamish's affections, then.

"Nikki's at the shower block," he continued, "and I think Mads went into town for breakfast."

"What's wrong with what we brought?" I asked.

"Maybe she felt like more than sugar–free Cheerios."

"We didn't bring sugar?"

"Not that I could find."

I groaned and tilted my face to the sky and was suddenly blinded by a radioactive level of bright. It was like the sun was pissed at the world today, glaring us little earthlings into submission. Or maybe it was just super happy and all like, ‘sunshine for everyone!’ Either way, it was intense.

“It’s hot,” I said, blinking at the ultraviolet circles that floated in my vision. I patted around in the trunk and felt up all the bags of food, looking for the Cheerios. Just as I was about to give up and was leaning toward Oreos for breakfast, Hamish walked over and whacked the box against my chest. So close.

“No shit,” he said. “I’m going in the water. You coming? Astrid?” He motioned toward the sandy path between the bushes. I looked around the camp site. Hey, yeah. It was almost deserted, with either campers snoozing the morning away or, as Astrid suggested, down at the beach to start Bay Fest: Day One off right. Noises drifted toward me on the balmy, salty breeze: the roar and crash of the ocean, the occasional gull cry and the odd yell and laugh of people having fun.

“Can’t,” Astrid said, “I was just passing. See you later, though?”

We waved goodbye as she cut through between some tents to her site.

Sweat prickled along my arms and a lone bead tickled as it travelled down my back. I tossed the Cheerios back in the trunk and strode back toward my tent. “Give me five minutes.”

After I texted both Nikki and Mads, Hamish and I flip–flopped our way through the brush and along the path to the beach. It started out as grassy dirt with a little sand, then deeper sand, then over a dune and suddenly there it was; the beach spread out in both directions, golden sands with a volleyball net set up over on the left. Off in the distance to the right, closer to town, was a lifeguard station and activities stand with kayaks, windsurfs and paddleboats stacked against the wall. Beach towels and bags were scattered across the sand in little groups, mostly deserted aside from the odd person laying out.

The water was where the action was. I watched as a group of girls turned their backs on an incoming wave and jumped. They laughed and screamed as the wave rolled over them. Body boarders sailed by on the crest and dodged skim boarders and young families at the shore. Further out past the waves, small yachts and fishing boats lazed about on the glittering ocean, bobbing gently.

So this was Tallulah Bay.

Hamish suddenly stopped, dropped his towel and kicked off his flip–flops, looking around. Seemed we were parking here, then. I dumped my stuff, checked my cell (but there were no replies), peeled off my clothes (and checked all the ties on my bikini were still tied) and kicked off my flip–flops.

A girl was laying out on her towel twenty feet away, reading a book. She glanced up at us and I smiled at her behind my sunglasses. My gaze automatically flicked down to her chest and perfectly bronzed stomach. Perfectly bronzed, perfectly
flat
stomach. I surreptitiously glanced down at my own body. I wasn’t doing too badly but my flat stomach was a bit softer than hers.

Hamish threw off his tee shirt and dumped it on top of my bag. He gave me a quick shove and as I face planted into the sand, he ran off toward the water. I heaved myself to my feet and gave chase. As I looked around at other beach goers I recognized some and slowed to a stop.

“You,” I said.

The one closest to me turned around and blinked in surprise. “And
you
,” Gordo said.

“Hey Himbos,” I said as they all wandered over in their board shorts. “What are you doing here? Are you allowed to fraternize with the ticket holders?”

Gordo looked confused. “Why not?”

“Because you could be torn limb from limb by rabid fans,” I said. “Duh.”

“That’s a burden we don’t have to worry about just yet,” one of them, Lyle, said with a half–smile.

“Oh.” I nodded. “You can but dream. You coming in?” I started backing toward the water, slowly increasing my speed until I spun around and sprinted toward the shoreline, looking for all the world like I was being chased by five thugs in board shorts.

As we got thigh high into the water, Hamish splashed at me, so I dive–tackled him until we both came splashing down.

The water was clear and cool, but not cold. It was perfect. We all splashed each other and threw clumps of wet sand around. I was floating on my back, bobbing on the tide when the group of tweenage girls I’d noticed earlier made their way back toward shore. Not watching where she was going, one of them with a face full of freckles just about drowned me. I surfaced, my throat and nose burning as I hacked up salt water. As I was about to give her the evil eye and recommend she get herself a walking license, I saw the horror on her face and thought twice about it.

“I’m–so–sorry! So–so–so–so–sorry!” she said.

Sigh. I couldn’t very well yell at a kid when she was already apologizing.

“Yeah, alright,” I said, rubbing my eyes. I wondered if I had yesterday’s mascara down my face.

“Learn to walk, Kaley,” one of her friends said, squeezing her shoulders reassuringly.

Kaley cringed. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Don’t worry about it.”

One of her other friends leaned in to another and cupped her hand over her mouth. Eyes on me, she whispered, “Is that Poppy Douglas?”

She may have whispered it, but we all totally heard it.

The four of them looked at me thoughtfully. One girl tilted her head to the side, squinting. Another’s eyes lit up in recognition and, it wasn’t quite a gasp, but she definitely breathed in quickly. Any second they’d glance at my friends and freak out when they realized it wasn’t just me, but The Himbos as well.

“Hey guys,” I said to Hamish and the boys, “let’s go in deeper, hmm?”

“I’m really sorry!” she called out again as I waded through the water as quickly as I could, wading in up to my waist. We jumped over and dove through waves as they reached us. The girls watched us go, whispering excitedly.

“It is, it’s really Poppy Douglas!”

“Oh my gosh do you think Ty’s around somewhere?”

“Who are those people with her? Do you think they’re famous too?”

Maybe Lyle was right and they really weren’t famous yet. I started to relax as the girls continued on their way back to the beach.

Gordo ambled over and stood by me as I watched them go. He propped his arm on my shoulder and leaned on me.

“That was close, huh?” he said.

“Yep. This is why-”

Then he pushed me over. Was
everyone
trying to drown me today? As I came back up, it was on. Each man for himself; we churned that ocean up, splashing and spraying sea foam and dunking each other under. Hamish threw seaweed at me and Lyle, so we ganged up on him by lifting our feet off the squishy sand and kicking water at him. We got him good, too. We gave each other high–fives and were drenched from behind as a wave crashed on top of us. Hamish and the other Himbos laughed and cheered and high–fived, themselves. Hamish rose his arms in the air, claiming victory as we sputtered and dragged our hands through our hair, shoving loose locks out of our faces.

Bay Fest. This was the best idea ever. There was nowhere else I wanted to be right now. It could only have been better if my girls and Ty had been part of it.

After a while, we all calmed down and called a truce, floating quietly, peacefully, in the rocking water.

“Hola amigos!” I lifted my head out of the water and found both Nikki and Mads wading toward us. Yes! What were they doing here together? Were they friends all of a sudden? I hoped they were friends.

They both smiled extra brightly at Hamish and snuck each other covert, super–suspicious glances. Couldn’t at least one of them drool over one of the shirtless rock stars, instead? Chicks love boys in bands. I know this for a fact.

“You found us,” I said happily.

“You want to know how?” Nikki asked, glancing back at the beach.

I paused. “Do I?”

“There’s a little group of girls sunbathing and talking about,” Nikki took an exaggerated deep breath and started talking in one long, run–on sentence, “how THE Poppy Douglas is out in the water and she didn’t even get mad or anything and she and Ty are SO cute together I hope they never break up ever–ever–ever and where do you think she got her bikini from probably a brand just gave it to her because she’s famous and that’s what they do and it’s so cute and looks so good on her don’t you think yeah I think I think so too so cute.”