Star Struck (5 page)

I think of how Beckett tossed me aside after my first audition, and
how he was all over that blond chick at the club. Then I remember how I felt when we sang together, and my stomach tightens. “I just can’t stand how hot and cold Beckett is. It’s not something I want to put up with.”

“Man, this guy really gets under your skin,” Lola observes with a grin.

“Yeah, he does,” I admit. Let’s face it, I can’t keep anything from Lola anyway. “That’s why I don’t think I can join the band.”

Lola’s lips curl downward. “Ryker’s gonna be disappointed.”

“What’s his deal, anyway? Why does he care so much?”

Lola shrugs. “He just wants what’s best for the band, and he thinks that’s you.”

I can tell by the look on her face there is more to the story, but I don’t press. It doesn’t matter. I’m not joining Beckett, and that’s the end of the story.

“When are you going to tell Beckett?”

“I’m not. Ryker gave me his number that first night we met. I’ll call him and he can relay the news to Beckett.” I give Lola a pouty look. “Unless you want to tell him for me?”

“No way.” She throws up her arms in surrender. “And have him shoot the messenger? I don’t think so.”

“Fair enough.” I giggle. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”

It’s a little after nine in the morning when I dial the number Ryker gave me. My fingers tremble, causing the slip of paper in my hand to shake. It rings numerous times before a groggy voice mumbles an almost unintelligible greeting. I feel bad for calling so early. It’s just that I want to get the whole thing over with. I don’t want to think about this all day during classes.

“Ryker, it’s Star. I’m sorry for calling so early.”

Laughing fills the line, causing me to stiffen. “This isn’t Ryker.”

“It’s not?”

“Believe me, it’s not.” The amused tone causes my insides to coil.

“I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number.” My gaze connects with the paper between my fingers, and I wonder if I dialed incorrectly.

“It’s Beckett.”

The words stop me cold. I swallow hard, working to find my voice. “Oh, I didn’t know. Ryker gave me this number
, and I just assumed it was his.”

“Yes, you would think so, wouldn’t you?” He responds dryly. “I
’ll have to talk to Ryker about him handing out my number without asking.”

Anger sparks. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan to use it again.”

“It’s fine, Star.” His voice is gentle, and it surprises me. “I don’t mind you having it. I just want to make sure he doesn’t give it to anyone else. Besides, as a member of my band you should have my number.”

I bite my lip. “About that
—”

“That’s why you called, right?” he cuts me off. “To let me know you decided to join Beckett?”

I’m astounded at this guy’s confidence. What makes him so sure I’m going to say yes to his offer? He must not be used to people turning him down. I smile, thinking how I’ll relish being the first.

“I’m actually glad you called,” he says. “I was up all night writing a new song, and I really think the two of us will sound great on it.
We’ll work on it tonight, okay?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, for band practice. You’re coming, aren’t you?”

I know I should say no. That was the plan, after all. But the thought of Beckett writing a song late into the night with the inte
ntion of us singing it together throws my whole plan out of whack. I clear my throat. “Of course.”

“Great.
See you at seven,” he responds. It’s odd, but I can actually hear the smile in his voice. It causes my heart to soar.

“Okay.” I intentionally keep my tone calm, hoping he doesn’t sense how elated I am.

“And Star?”

“Yes?” I hold my breath.

“Don’t ever call me before noon again.”

“Right
.” I click off, irritated. How does he do that? How can he make me so happy one minute and so infuriated the next? I throw my cell down on my bed and groan. Did I seriously just agree to join Beckett? Man, that guy really knows how to push my buttons. Lola’s going to have a field day with this one.

The door to our dorm room pops open and Lola rushes in, two paper coffee cups in hand. Her hair is a little disheveled
, and pink flushes her cheeks. She’s wearing a cute belted black sweater over skinny jeans and black boots.

“I figured you could use a little pick me up this morning.” She shoves a cup into my hand. The one that only moments ago was holding my cell phone. I wrap my fingers around the warmth of it and take a sip. Chocolaty creaminess swims down my throat. “Hmm. Thanks, Lola.”

“Sure.” She runs a hand down her hair, and the glossy black strands are sleek again.

I touch the long strands of
my brown hair wishing they were as shiny and sleek as Lola’s. Sure my hair is straight and thick, but it’s unruly and has a total mind of its own.

“So, are you going to keep me in suspense all day? Tell me what happened when you called Ryker.”

My face goes hot. “Um…well, I didn’t exactly call Ryker.”

Lola pulls the cup away from her dark red lips. “You chickened out, huh?”

“Not exactly.” My stomach churns.

Lola knits her brows together. “What do you mean?”

“Ryker didn’t give me his number. He gave me Beckett’s.”

“Ah.” Lola raises a knowing eyebrow. “So how did he take it?”

I stall by taking a large gulp of the coffee. After swallowing I say, “Really well, actually.”

“Jerk,” Lola mutters under her breath.

I giggle. “There was nothing to be upset about, since I sort of told him I’d join the band.”

“No way!” Lola almost spills her coffee. “What made you change your mind?”

I shrug my shoulders.  “I don’t know. I was all set to tell him, but then he started talking about a song he wrote for us and I just couldn’t do it.”

“Ooh, he wrote a song for you.” Lola perches on the edge of her bed, her coffee cup still in her hand. “Do tell.”

“Not for me, exactly. He just said that he thought we would sound great on it.”

“Star Evans, it sounds like maybe Mr. Rockstar has a little crush on you.”

I bat away her words. “Please, he so doesn’t.”

Lola smirks. “If you say so.”

My stomach flutters from her words. I know I shouldn’t want them to be true. Beckett’s all wrong for me. Besides, he’s an arrogant jerk. I’m usually super practical, and I always go for the good guys. Why is it that I can’t seem to temper the attraction I feel for Beckett?
 

I slide into a seat at the very back of the large lecture hall just as my history class starts. Professor Johnston doesn’t waste any time, but immediately starts his lecture. I fumble around in my backpack, my fingers brushing over my notebooks and
papers. Grasping my history notebook, I yank it out. I quietly unzip the front pocket and reach inside to protract a pen while the professor drones on. Just as I sit upright and open my notebook, the dark haired girl to my left bends toward me. “You’re her, aren’t you?” she whispers. “The girl with Beckett?”

I’m startled by the question, thinking how I just decided
to join less than an hour ago. Does news really travel that fast? “Um…yeah, I guess. I mean, I’m in the band if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’m Stacy.” She says with a smile.

“Star,” I respond, leaning closer to the girl, but keeping my eyes fixed at the front of the room to make sure we’re not caught by Professor Johnston. “How did you know that I was in the band?”

“Oh, I was at the bar the other night when you two sang together.” The girl clutches her chest, a dreamy look cloaking her face.
“You’re so lucky. I would give anything to have Beckett sing to me like he did to you.”

My cheeks warm. “He wasn’t singing to me. We’re not…um…we’re not together really. I’m just the backup singer.”

“Still. It’s every girl’s dream in this town. Beckett is like one of the biggest local bands here in Seattle.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. They play everywhere.” Stacy smiles. “But why am I the one telling you this? You’re in the band, right?”

“Right.” I squirm uncomfortably in my chair as her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew Beckett was good
, but I didn’t realize they were also well known. A part of me is excited by the prospect, but the other part of me is sickened. What have I gotten myself into?

6

Beckett

I should be mad at Ryker for giving out my phone number, but I’m not. It was actually nice to answer the phone and hear Star’s voice on the other end, even if it was way too early in the morning. I stumble into the dirty kitchen and fumble around for the coffee maker. I fill the pitcher with water and then scoop some coffee grounds into the filter. Then I push it on and lean against the sticky counter, running a hand over my head. Footsteps pound down the hallway, causing my pulse to spike. Who’s here?

I push myself off the counter, the hair on the back of my neck prickling. I reach across
the counter for the set of knives, and fish out the largest one. Then I inch forward quietly. When a shadow casts on the carpet, I jump forward.

“Shit, man. Are you gonna stab me?”

Startled, I drop the knife. It clatters to the floor, landing mere inches from my bare feet. “Tate, what are you doing here?”

“I live here, bro.” Tate pushes past me, his long hair brushing over his shoulders.

“Since when?” I lean over, retrieving the knife before one of us steps on it. “I haven’t seen you for months.”

“I was working out of town
.” Tate opens a cupboard and pulls out a coffee mug. His flannel pants hang low on his hips, a tattered wife beater tank top hanging over it.

“You better not have brought any drugs into our apartment.”
I toss the knife back on the counter.

“I’m clean, man.”

“I hope so,” I mumble.

Tate turns around to face me. “You know I haven’t used since…”

I shake my head, not wishing him to say it. We both know the event he’s referencing, and neither of us wants to rehash it. “Yeah, I know.”

“So I hear you’ve got some hot chick in your band now.” Tate smiles while pouring a cup of coffee.

“Who told you that?” My stomach knots. The last person I want Star to meet is my brother.

“Mom told me.”

“You talked to Mom? When?”

“Last night. She told me all about what’s been going on with you.”

“Surprised she even knows,” I say pushing past Tate to get my own coffee.

“Lighten up on her, dude. She just wants a better life for you, you know.”

“Yes, I know she and dad want me to quit music and do something more stable. Too bad for them, it’s my life.” Reaching into the cupboard, I pull down a mug. “It’s not like I’m going to make the same mistakes you guys did.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’ll make different ones.” Tate laughs in that condescending older brother tone.

I just roll my eyes and take a sip of my drink. The last person I need to take advice from is Tate. He’s one of the main reasons I live my life the way I do. I try to do the exact opposite of him. 

“So tell me abou
t this hot chick. You doing her yet?”

For some reason this angers me. “No, I’m not.”

“Whoa! How long has she been a part of the band?”

“Just since this morning
, actually, but she auditioned a couple of weeks ago. Then she and I sang together the other night.”

“And you still haven’t slept with her? That must be some kind of record for you, huh?” Tate nudges me in the side. “So
, I’m guessing she’s not hot then.”

“Oh
, no, believe me, she’s hot.”

“Is there something you want to tell me, bro?” Tate scrunches up his forehead. “You’re still into chicks, right?”

I sigh, frustrated. “What exactly did Mom tell you? I didn’t even know she knew about Star. And I know she didn’t say she was hot.”

“No, she just said that Ryker mentioned her,” Tate explains
, and now it all makes sense.

“Yeah, I bet he did.”

“Oh, I see. So she’s doing Ryker.” Tate slaps me on the back. “I’m proud of you, dude. You finally adhere to the guy code.”

I shrug him off. “I’m not adhering to any code. Ryker isn’t doing her. I think he’s into her friend.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“Nothing. She’s just a girl in our band, end of story.” I head toward my room
, coffee mug still in hand. Warmth seeps into my fingers. “I’ve got a lot to do today, so we’ll have to talk later.” I pause. “Are you going to be around awhile this time?”

Tate nods. “Yeah, I am.”

“Cool.” Even though I was irritated when I first saw him this morning, I have to admit that I’m glad he’s back. When he took off I was kind of worried. Tate and I may have our issues, but I don’t want to lose him. I know exactly how it feels to lose someone you love, and I never want to experience it again.