Phone Calls From a Rock Star (2 page)

I flipped through the room service menu and
frowned at my options - everything was too fancy for my taste. I
had a craving for something sloppy and greasy, and I knew I
wouldn’t get it here. Besides, I didn’t want to share my food with
the twenty-some extra people. Let them raid the vending machines
down the hall.

I threw the menu on the table and pushed my
way through the throng, glaring at the blonde shamelessly flirting
with my brother in the corner. Neither one took any notice of me,
so I lifted Seth’s keys from the top of the television and squeezed
back through my room. I slipped quietly out the door and ran to the
elevator. Freedom was a sweet victory - until I stepped out in the
cool night air and cursed my brother for not giving me enough time
to change out of my thin t-shirt. Although it was August, the late
night breeze drew chilly goose bumps on my flesh.

I jumped in Seth’s car and headed for the
main strip. I knew there were a couple fast food joints, and that
was exactly what I needed. Some people were addicted to drugs,
others to alcohol, but for me, it was junk food.

Deciding that a Big ‘Un, a double
cheeseburger from my favorite Burger Kastle, with all its messy
goodness sounded wonderfully delicious, I turned into the
drive-thru. I placed my order and checked for accuracy on the
screen like a good customer. I kept my window down because I’d only
have to roll it back down in a few minutes anyway and I’d hate to
burn out the power window motor thing—if that was possible. Seth
would have a fit.

I fiddled with the radio while throwing
occasional glares at the car two ahead of me who was holding up the
entire line. He must have ordered a hamburger with no ketchup, no
mustard, no onions, add two and a half slices of cheese. One of
those sorts who disrupt the entire drive-thru natural balance.

I huffed in impatience and played with the
radio knobs again, trying to find the perfect song to fit my mood.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the Frustrated Drive-Thru Customer
station anywhere.

A loud bang startled me,
and I looked up in time to see a guy dressed in jeans, a dark
hoodie and a baseball cap run out the back door of the restaurant.
He pulled the hood over the cap as he darted around the dumpster in
an obvious attempt to get away from something. He sprinted toward
my car.
My car!
The first ever Burger Kastle burglar wants to use my car as
an escape vehicle. Okay, so technically it was Seth’s car, but I
don’t think he really cared at that moment.

I instinctively hit the power lock button as
he reached the passenger door to lock the already locked doors but
hit the unlock button instead. The stranger yanked the door open
and dived inside, ducking out of view.

“
Drive,” he ordered. “Now,
woman. Damn it!”

“
But I didn’t get my food
yet,” I answered, brain swirling in total confusion.

“
Please, get me out of
here. I’ll buy you anything you want, I promise,” he begged in a
high, desperate voice.

“
What did you do in there?”
I asked as I pointed at the door. The entire ridiculousness of the
situation hadn’t penetrated. I guess Seth was right when he said I
had a thick skull.

“
Nothing, now will you
please get me out of here before they find me?”

“
But,” I began, brow
furrowed. “If you robbed the BK I’ll get a reward for turning you
in—maybe a lifetime supply of Big ‘Uns.”

I heard before I saw a horde of teenage
girls stampeding around the corner of the building. They stopped as
though they were one entity, and all looked anxiously around – one
of them even peeking in the dumpster. If they were looking for the
robber then they had another thing coming—I was getting all the
loot myself.

“
You’re kidding me, right?”
I stared seriously at his dark face. I couldn’t make out his
features because the combination of the baseball cap and the hood
shadowed it. He let out a long sigh. I knew that sound. It was the
same one Seth used on me when I pushed him a little too far. He
lowered the hood and removed his hat.

I gasped, hand to my chest, before hitting
the gas, swerving in time to miss the vehicle in front of me, and
squealed out of the line. I turned quickly into traffic and drifted
away from the restaurant.

His climbed onto the seat and dug the heels
of his hands into his eyes. “Thanks. I really appreciate this.”

I stared at the road in front of me,
startled by the identity of my carjacker and a little befuddled by
the entire situation. My tired, hungry brain began to shut down and
no coherent thoughts entered my mind. So, as usual, I spoke the
only words I could comprehend at the moment.

“
You owe me a Big
‘Un.”

Chapter Two

It took my bewildered mind a couple minutes
to grasp the situation. It was like my entire head went numb and I
couldn’t seem to jump up and grab on to reality. I didn’t know
exactly what I was doing as I continued to drive to nowhere in
particular. Finally, after a few awkward moments, I managed to lift
one shaky hand off the wheel to point at him.

“
You’re Jake
Johnson.”

He grunted and continued to sulk in his
little corner of the car. “Great. First I’m nearly mauled by a
bunch of crazy fans, and then I jump in the car of a groupie. Can
this night get any better?”

“
Hey!” I shouted, startling
us both. “That’s not nice. I’m not a groupie! I don’t hang out
hoping you or one of your little friends will toss me a lock of
your chest hair. If you even
have
any.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized how
immature I sounded, but I blamed it all on my still stunned mind
and empty stomach.

He laughed, his voice as deep and rich as it
had been hours earlier on stage. I watched out of the corner of my
eyes as he appraised me then relaxed his shoulders. “Sorry. Didn’t
mean to insult you.”

I bristled, doubting his apology was
sincere. “Well I don’t flounce around after tour busses offering
myself up to the first rock star I meet, if that’s what you
think.”

“
Who uses the word
‘flounce’?” he asked. His tone was a cross between amused and
flabbergasted.

“
I do. It’s called
expanding your vocabulary. You should try it sometime.”
So there
, I wanted to
add but that darn maturity thing got in the way.

He shook his head and turned it back to the
window. “I do expand my vocabulary. I write music you know.”

“
You call ‘I like you best
when you work your magic below my chest’ expanding your
vocabulary?” I uttered.

“
Actually I call it
artistic,” he snorted. “What would you call it?”

“
Pornographic,” I sneered.
That particular song always made me blush – especially in mixed
company. But I’d never, ever admit that to him.

“
What do you know about
writing lyrics, huh? You’re obviously not a fan.” He scowled out
the window, arms folded neatly across his chest in a pout. The
light from the street lamps flickered across his face, one minute
illuminating his features and the next casting them in the shadows.
My nervous heart kicked up a notch.

Baby! I wanted to shout. Instead, I opened
and closed my mouth a few times. “I am too a fan,” I said in a near
whisper.

“
Well you could have fooled
me,” he said. “Especially the way you rip apart my
songs.”

Was he for real? I made one little comment.
Couldn’t he take constructive criticism? I sighed, feeling a little
sorry for him. “Not all of your songs. Only one or two -the vulgar
ones.”

“
Vulgar? What is so vulgar
about my music?” he demanded, facing me again.

“
Do you want me to
sing
them to
you?”

He laughed hollowly. “Sure. Be my
guest.”

I glanced at him, hoping he was kidding. He
wasn’t. A knowing smirk was plastered across his face. I quickly
turned back to the road, embarrassment thundering in my ears. “Well
too bad because I am not going to sing. You know what I mean,
anyway. They’re your songs; you should know the words.”

Finally a little animation filled his face
as he scooted as far up on the seat as the seatbelt would allow.
Hey, when did he buckle up? I’d have to give him a little credit
for thinking of safety. Not that I wanted to, but it was only fair.
“Do you ever really listen to the words? Do you know what the songs
are about?”

“
I…” I stammered. I didn’t
quite know what to say. I didn’t want to come off as some sort of
know it all…hussy, but then I’d already revealed too much naiveté’
as it was. Some of that stuff, well, let’s just say I’d need a
dictionary and perhaps a drawing or two to get the
meaning.

“
I thought so,” he replied
smugly. “They’re not all about sex, you know. If you’d listen you’d
know that most of them are about how the guy doesn’t always just
want a physical relationship. Sometimes he wants more than
sex.”

“
Sorry,” I muttered. “I
guess I missed that.” I turned my shameful eyes back to the
road.

“
You would,” he
grumbled.

The guilt I’d felt moments go moved aside
and allowed anger to take its place. It roared inside my head and
demanded I set it loose on the man. “Hey! That’s not fair. How can
you judge me when you don’t even know me?”

“
Sorry,” he said and again
I doubted his sincerity.

“
And how about the songs
about drugs? What are they about?” Ha. I had him this
time.

He sighed and shook his head. I’m pretty
sure he rolled his eyes too but I missed that part - I was trying
to pay attention to the road. “What would you have us write about-
rainbows and butterflies? Spoiled little girls whose hearts get
broken when Mr. Popularity doesn’t ask them to the prom?”

The sting behind my eyes reminded me tears
were near. I didn’t want to break down in front of him so I
swallowed extra hard and concentrated on the road. I hated that I
was such a crybaby at times—especially when I was angry. “You
pretend you know me when you don’t. How about you stop being so
judgmental and try being a little grateful? I could have left you
behind to be mauled by your hormone-crazed fans.”

His eyes bored into the side of my head but
I kept my chin up, pretending not to notice. The tears were still
there, but I was doing a wonderful job of containing them. “You’re
right,” he whispered. “Really, I’m sorry.”

I chanced a quick glance at him, and he gave
me a brief smile. I returned it and stared at the dark road.

“
Where are we?” he asked,
eyes drifting to the shadows outside his window.

“
I’m not sure but I think
I’ll turn around. I need to find another Burger Kastle.”

“
You need to what? How can
you think of your stomach at a time like this?” His voice rose to
the ceiling, and I wondered if he’d ever hit a note that high. So
much for that smile. His hands were planted on the dashboard as
though he were bracing himself for a crash.

“
I haven’t eaten in hours.
And hours. I’m hungry,” I protested. I was tempted to knock on his
head to see if it was hollow. “I need a greasy burger. It’s like a
crack addiction except for me, it’s fast food.”

“
Wonderful,” he muttered,
staring at the sky. “Opinionated and a junk food
junkie.”

“
I am not opinionated!” I
wanted to fold my arms over my chest and huff but someone had to
steer, and he wasn’t volunteering. Not that I was
asking.

“
Listen to you ramble,” he
snorted.

“
I do not ramble,” I
fumed.

“
You haven’t shut up since
I got in this car,” he said as he gawked out the window, attempting
to hide his laughter. It wasn’t hard to tell what he was up to –
his entire body was shaking. He was getting to me and he knew it,
and it only fueled my anger.

“
Be nice. Don’t make me
pull over.” All the blood in my circulatory system flooded my face
and I knew, even though it was pretty dark in the car, he could see
it. Did I really say that?

I must have because he was beside himself in
laughter. He leaned against the door as his body trembled, and his
face turned as red as mine had to be. “I…can’t…believe…you said
that,” he guffawed. “I haven’t…heard that…in a long time!”

“
Yeah well my blood sugar
must be very low.” I muttered irritably. We were heading back down
the main strip, and I couldn’t locate a single Burger Kastle except
the one where I rescued Mr. Laugh-It-Up. I didn’t think it would be
a good idea to return to the scene of the crime so I found an
all-night burger stand instead. I made sure the doors were locked
as I placed our order and collected our food, not even bothering to
ask him if he’d like something other than a burger.

I decided to drive to this cool place I’d
found one night while I was waiting for my friend Annie to come
home. It was a tall hill that overlooked a sprawling corn field.
Sounds corny, no pun intended, but it really wasn’t. It seemed as
though you could see for miles, and it was so tranquil that I often
went back when I needed somewhere quiet to think.

I drove through Annie’s subdivision,
ignoring the huge, brightly lit houses. Jake peered absently out
the window as the greasy cheeseburger scent filled the car and made
my stomach rumble.

“
Where are you taking me?”
Jake asked.