The Heartbreakers (4 page)

He stared at me, brows raised, as if I had just offered the answer to my own question. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

His response made me blink. “Okay, well, I guess I understand,” I said, even though I didn’t. Why wouldn’t he want me to know who he was? “Now I know who you are. Thanks for stopping by.” I started to shut the door.

“Hey, wait!” Oliver stuck his foot out to stop me.

“Is that the food?” Drew called out. The bed squeaked as he got up to see what was going on.

“Hey,” Oliver said, poking his head into the room to greet my brother.

“Ah, hi.” Drew scratched the back of his head. “Don’t I know you?” After staring at Oliver for a second longer, I watched the realization wash over his face. “You’re that guy from the band. Stella, what are you doing? Let him in!”

Closing my eyes, I let a sigh hiss out of my mouth. When I released my grasp on the doorknob, Oliver stepped in beside me. His arm brushed against mine just like this morning, and the contact made me suck in a sharp breath. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as everyone stared at each other.

Finally my brother spoke up. “So no offense or anything, but what exactly are you doing here? Wrong room number or something?”

“No,” Oliver said. He glanced at me before continuing. “I came to talk to your…girlfriend?”

“Sister,” Drew corrected and shot me a curious look.

I watched for Oliver’s reaction, but his face stayed composed. “Right, sister. Anyway, she mentioned in the elevator that you guys wanted an autograph so I thought—”

Before Oliver could finish his sentence, Drew cut him off. “Wait, you two met in the elevator?”

Dang it. Now I would have to explain everything. If Drew found out from Oliver that we actually met while I was getting coffee, he’d be beyond ticked. “Actually,” I began, already regretting my words. “It was this morning.”

Drew still looked lost, so Oliver clarified. “At Starbucks.”

“Wait, so we stood in line all day for an autograph when you had already met him?” Drew asked, gaping at us like we were insane.

I threw my hands up in the air. “I’m not Cara, Drew. I don’t have posters of the Heartbreakers hanging on my wall. I didn’t realize it was him. If I’m going to listen to a band, I’ll listen to a good one like the Sensible Grenade or Bionic Bones.”

Okay, so Cara was right about the weird underground music stuff—of course, that didn’t make her ignorance of punk-rock legends excusable—but the bands I listened to were much more talented than the Heartbreakers.

Oliver cleared his throat. “Um, okay. Low blow.”

My brother looked like he was going to explode, but he took a deep breath, put a hand on my shoulder, and turned to Oliver. “Could you excuse us for a moment? I need to talk to my sister.”

“Sure,” Oliver said as he shrugged his shoulders. “I just came to invite you up to our room.” He handed me a spare room card. “Just give this to the man in the elevator. He’ll let you up.”

When the door shut and Oliver was gone, Drew spun around to face me. “What the heck is wrong with you?” he demanded. “Why did you keep insulting him?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t mean to, but he was getting on my nerves.” Well, that was somewhat true. Oliver didn’t do anything that was irritating, but the sudden feelings I was experiencing around him were. He made me giddy in a school-crush sort of way, and that was mortifying.

Drew’s mouth formed a thin, straight line. “We drove down here for Cara. Not you, not me, but our sister.” Ashamed, I looked away from his intense glare. “Rocket…” he said, lifting my chin to face him.

It was Drew’s nickname for me, short for “bottle rocket.” He said it was because when I got agitated, my temper flared without warning, but the explosion was never very large, and my anger fizzled as quickly as it had been ignited. Whenever I got worked up, he used the nickname as a gentle reminder for me to cool down.

“Okay, okay!” I said, twisting away from him. He was right—I had gone all Fourth of July on Oliver and wasn’t thinking clearly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Apologize,” Drew said sternly.

“I’m super sorry?”

“Nice try, Stella. We’re going up there to get an autograph, and you are going to apologize to Oliver.”

Just the mention of his name made butterflies pulse through my stomach. I was going to have to talk to Oliver Perry. Again.

When we stepped inside the penthouse, my stomach was a jumbled-up mess. I’d insisted on waiting for our pizza to arrive before leaving. I’d hoped the extra time would help me calm down, but instead, a watermelon-sized rock formed at the bottom of my stomach and I wasn’t able to eat a bite.

“Hello?” Drew called out. The door slammed behind us, and the thud resonated through the silent suite, announcing our presence along with Drew’s greeting.

When nobody answered, I hesitated. “Now what?”

“Maybe they’re at dinner.”

“Well, if no one’s here,” I said, eager to leave, “let’s go.” The closer I came to facing Oliver again, the worse I felt. A thick sense of dread was seeping into my veins like an injection of concrete, making my whole body feel heavy. I couldn’t stop my fingers from twitching, and I had to hold them tightly to my side and resist the urge to run.

Drew clamped both his hands down on my shoulders. “But you haven’t had a chance to apologize yet,” he said with a wicked smile. He gave me a small push forward, guiding me down the hall until it opened up into a living room.

“Holy crap,” I whispered, forgetting about my nerves. Drew and I exchanged impressed looks.

The space was massive, furnished with the sleek grays and blues of modern decor, and the far wall was a floor-to-ceiling window that framed the glimmering city below. To the right of us was the largest flat screen I’d ever seen, and it was paused on a commercial, almost as if someone had just been watching. Across from the TV was a long couch with matching armchairs, a coffee table littered with fast-food wrappers, and a pool table.

“Still no one here,” I said in a hushed tone. “Can we leave now?”

Drew ignored me. “Hello?” he called out again, stepping forward onto the carpet.

It was quiet for a moment longer. Then, unexpectedly, the
Mission: Impossible
theme song blasted out of the sound system.

“Ready,
fire
!
” Three boys jumped out from behind the couch, arms raised and ready. “You’re going down, Oliver!”

An array of objects launched in our direction, and when something green and slimy hit my shoulder, I shrieked. I looked down at my camera, afraid that some of the mystery goo had landed on it, but it was slime free. Before I was hit by anything else, I tore my camera away from my neck. The strap was tangled in my hair, but I pulled it free just in time as a water balloon smashed against my chest and soaked my shirt through.

“Oh shit,” someone yelled. “Abort mission!”

When the attack stopped, we all stared at each other—Drew and I with our eyes wide, and three-fourths of the Heartbreakers with their mouths hanging open.

“Da hell?” the muscular boy exclaimed.

Glasses scratched his head. “Well, this isn’t weird.”

“No, not at all,” Drew said. He picked a pair of boxers off his shoulder. Besides the dirty laundry and water balloons, we had been pelted with Silly String and Cheetos. The green goo on my shirt looked suspiciously like Jell-O.

A second of uncomfortable silence passed before the boy wearing glasses jumped forward, almost as if he had been startled by the realization of what had just happened, and he rushed over to us. “Oh God!” he said, and his face was bright red as he brushed Silly String from Drew’s shoulder. “I’m super sorry. We thought you were Oliver.”

Drew shook his hair out, and a Cheeto fell to the floor. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, patting himself down to make sure nothing was caught in the folds of his clothing.

“Dammit! We had everything planned out perfectly,” Muscles muttered as he chucked a Silly String can to the floor. He ran his fingers over his buzzed hair and then shook his head. Finally, he turned to Drew and me and cleared his throat. “Sorry if we scared you.” He glanced down at my Jell-O stain, flinched, and added, “And pelted you with crap.”

I still couldn’t find the words to speak, but Drew suddenly threw back his head and laughed. “I’m sorry,” he said and clutched his stomach as everyone stared at him like he was crazy. “It’s just, that was probably the most eventful thing that’s happened today, but nobody is going to believe me when I say the Heartbreakers ambushed me with a bag of Cheetos.”

Muscles finally cracked a smile and held out his hand to shake. “JJ,” he introduced himself. “I probably wouldn’t believe you either.”

“Yeah, let’s pretend this didn’t happen,” Glasses said. “I’m Xander by the way, and that’s Alec.” He pointed at the guy still standing behind the couch. Alec hadn’t said a word, but he raised his hand in acknowledgment when we glanced his way.

“Nice to meet you,” my brother said and shook both of their hands. “I’m Drew, and this is my sister Stella.”

The boys studied me as if there was something off-putting about my face. I held my breath and prayed they didn’t remember me—if Drew found out I had verbally abused the entire band, I would never hear the end of it—but recognition flashed in JJ’s eyes and I knew I was done.

“Hey,” he said, pointing at me. “You’re that girl from the elevator.” He turned to Xander and starting whacking him on the arm. “It’s the girl from the elevator, remember?”

Xander pushed his friend’s hand away. “Yes, JJ. Quite clearly.”

“Hang on.” Drew turned to me. “You met all of them?”

“More like shouted at us,” Xander clarified, “but yeah. We’ve met.”

I didn’t bother to look at my brother because I knew he was scowling at me. “Sorry about that,” I said and tugged on the hem of my shirt. “I wasn’t in the best mood.”

“We’ve heard way worse,” JJ said, dismissing my apology with the wave of his hand. “Right now, all I care about is getting some payback on Oliver. He filled my favorite shoes with peanut butter this morning, so he has it coming. Someone help me fill more water balloons before he shows up.”

Drew glanced back and forth between the boys to gauge how serious JJ was. “You want us to help you ambush Oliver Perry?”

Apparently JJ was dead serious. “Damn straight,” he said. He was already at the kitchen sink, and the hot-pink rubber of a new balloon was wrapped around the faucet. “I wanna see that sucker’s face when he gets an unexpected shower. Xander, see if we have any more Silly String.”

The front door banged open, and Oliver strolled into the room. “Valiant attempt, JJ. I’ll give it a four out of five, but you’re never going to out-prank me.”

As soon as I saw Oliver, my ears started to prickle as if they’d been fried on a sunny day. I quickly stepped to the left where Drew was standing, hoping to disappear behind him.

“Aw, man,” JJ groaned. He tossed the one balloon he’d managed to finish back into the sink. “How long were you out there listening?”

Oliver flopped down on the couch. “Who said I was listening?”

The way he settled back into the cushions—hands folded casually in his lap, legs spread out in front of him—made my stomach roll. This was a different person than the boy I’d met this morning.

JJ stared at Oliver, eyes narrowed. “Wait…” he said, as he slowly put something together. “You knew our plan before you left?” Oliver didn’t answer, but the smirk on his face was confirmation enough.

“And then you invited them up here,” Xander said, pointing at Drew and me. Again Oliver remained silent, but he tucked his hands behind his head as if he was pleased with himself.

“That’s low, man,” JJ said, shaking his head. “Tricking innocent people.”

“I’ll admit the brother was collateral damage,” Oliver said, waving his hand in Drew’s direction. Then he fixed his gaze on me. “But she isn’t innocent.” He kept his face straight as he spoke, but I could still see his anger, a raging gale captured behind his eyes. “No offense, but you had it coming. Sorry, not sorry.”

I heard my knuckles crack before I even realized my fingers had curled into a fist. My blood was pumping so fast that I could feel it rushing in my ears as I took a step in Oliver’s direction.

“Stella,” Drew said in a warning voice. He wrapped his hands securely around my shoulders and held me in place. I knew he was only trying to prevent me from doing something I’d later regret, and I resisted the urge to shove him off.

Oliver was a complete and total ass. Admittedly, I had been harsh with my critique of the band, but while that wasn’t very nice on my part, I still had the right to my own opinion. Did Oliver retaliate against everyone who was critical of the Heartbreakers? And did he really think I was going to roll over and let him get away with it just because he was famous? The fact that I still found him attractive made me seethe even more.

I was about to tell Oliver off, but then JJ cut in. “You’re just pissed because she dissed your music,” he said in my defense. The way JJ said “your music” sounded as if he’d eaten something that had festered at the back of the fridge for weeks. Wasn’t it all their music? I momentarily forgot my anger as my ears perked up.

JJ’s comment made Xander laugh, but all the air in the room suddenly felt thin and I couldn’t help but tense. “You should have seen his face when we got back to the room,” he said. “Just fuming! I haven’t seen Oliver that pissed since he fell off the stage in Atlanta.”

“I wasn’t mad because she doesn’t like our music,” Oliver snapped.

“What is it then?” JJ shot back. Oliver stared at him, his jaw tightening as if he was trying to come up with something good to say. “Well?

“Screw you, JJ,” Oliver spat out. He jumped up from the couch and bolted out of the room, disappearing down one of the suite’s many halls. The slam of a bedroom door echoed back to us.

“That was a little prima donna of him,” Xander said.

“Hmm,” JJ replied, scratching his chin. “On a scale of humble to Mariah, I’d say he’s only at diva.”

Xander shrugged, and Alec wasn’t even paying attention; he was lounging in an armchair with his headphones on, head moving to a beat. All three boys seemed so unaffected by what had just gone down that I wondered if they normally fought like this.

They might have been used to it, but I wasn’t able to let things go so easily. “I want to have a word with him,” I said, pointing in the direction Oliver had gone. I tried to keep my voice steady so I sounded civil, but everything came out choppy and sharp.

“Be my guest,” JJ said. He held out both hands in invitation and gestured to the hall, the grin on his face so full it looked goofy.

“Maybe that isn’t such a good idea,” Drew said, but my glare shut him up quickly. It had been his idea to come up here, not mine. I would have preferred staying in our sauna of a room, sweating our asses off, but now Oliver was going to hear me out whether he liked it or not. After giving my brother one last pointed look, I nodded a quick thanks to JJ and marched off, my previous embarrassment long gone.

• • •

He was out on the balcony.

After searching through a series of empty rooms, I stepped inside the master and glanced around. With the curtains pulled back, I quickly spotted him through the glass door. A surge of heat flushed through my body, making my chest and cheeks burn, and I stomped across the room, my anger refreshed.

“What do you want?” he asked when I pulled back the sliding door.

His back was to me, arms folded neatly against the railing as he stared up at the sky. I had expected him to sound furious, but all his previous anger was absent and his voice came out quiet, layered with exhaustion. It was strangely jarring, and I took a step back.

Oliver turned when I didn’t answer. “Oh, I thought you were JJ,” he said, a scowl flickering across his face when he saw me. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

I opened my mouth to snap back, to tell him he couldn’t go around treating people the way he was treating me, but something over the edge of balcony caught my attention and I stepped up to the railing. Far below us on the ground, swarms of people crowded the sidewalk. They looked like specks from this high up, but I knew they were all teenage girls waiting to meet their idols. “Whoa,” I gasped, unable to contain my surprise. “All those people down there?”

Oliver’s gaze flickered from the stars down to the street, a distant look on his face. “Here to see us?” he said. He rubbed his arms as if he was cold. “Yeah.”

I couldn’t comprehend the number of girls waiting outside the hotel. The band had to deal with this every day? The thought made me dizzy.

I didn’t regret my decision to be homeschooled, but sometimes being at home all the time was difficult, and I often wondered what high school was like for a normal teenager. Whenever those thoughts bothered me, I would lie in bed and stare at the walls of my bedroom to make sure they weren’t shrinking around me. I often felt they were, suffocating me slowly as they closed in on all sides. It was like the cancer had trapped us and was holding us back from the rest of world. I knew Oliver’s situation was completely different, but I wondered if his lack of privacy ever made him feel like a prisoner, trapped, the way I did by Cara’s sickness.

“It must be overwhelming.” I didn’t know what else to say. There was a painful twinge inside my heart, and I pressed my hand against my chest.

“You get used to it,” he said with a shrug. His answer was so full of indifference that he sounded like he was merely reciting a well-known fact. I had no answer, and he turned back to the darkness suspended above us. Only then did a calm expression soften his face, and I was reminded of the smiling boy I’d met at Starbucks, not the famous prick I had witnessed a few minutes ago.

I joined him in stargazing. “I don’t think I’d ever get used to that,” I finally responded.

“That’s what I said in the beginning.” Oliver raked his fingers through his hair and then turned to me. “Look, Stella, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have tricked you and your brother like that. But you—”

“Wait,” I said, interrupting him. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt the urge to apologize, especially when moments ago I had stormed in blazing with every intention of making his night as horrible as mine. It was like, in a strange way, I understood how it felt for Oliver to have the world shrinking around him. “Don’t. I’m the one who should be sorry. I acted like a total bitch. You just…”