All the Way (15 page)

“Awwww,” Becca said. “That's so sweet.”

“Gag me,” Jacob said.

I just grinned at Tyler like we were sharing a private joke.

Could this road trip possibly get any better? By the time we got to Cleveland, I was so happy, I was floating. I hadn't had this much fun since . . . ever.

It was tricky finding the audition site. I had to read the map and navigate since Tyler was driving, and maps aren't my best skill, but we finally pulled into a humongous parking lot. We had to circle for, like, forty minutes, trying to find an empty spot.

“I don't think we're going to be first,” I said, seeing all the other cars.

We found our way into the place through throngs of other wannabes, but it was impossible to find out where we were supposed to go or what to do. The whole thing was chaos, not organized like
American Idol
. Thousands of people were milling around, trying to figure out what the system was.

Finally Tyler spotted a small sign-up table, and we went over and put our names on the list.

“You're number 1264,” the guy at the table told me.

“So what does that mean?” I asked.

“It means you won't be singing tonight,” he said. “Get comfortable.”

“How comfortable?” Tyler asked.

“Look, none of you will be auditioning till early morning,” the guy snapped. “Or maybe afternoon, if you don't let me get on with this. So if you've got a number, step aside. There's a long line behind you.”

Okeydokey, then.

“Let's get out of here,” Tyler said, acting like he and I both knew we'd have more fun by ourselves.

“Okay,” I agreed. But I wasn't sure I wanted to leave yet. I hadn't even found Ariel and Emily, and I thought it would be cool to hang out and soak up the energy in the scene. Plus I couldn't help wondering about the competition. Were most of these people just here for a kick? Because a lot of them looked like serious reject material, which could mean . . .

Did we actually have a chance of getting through the first cut . . . ?

Tyler took my hand and pulled me aside.

“Where are we going?” I said.

“We'll find someplace,” he said. He turned to Jacob, who had just gotten his number right after ours. “Call my cell if they suddenly start getting close to our numbers, okay?”

“You got it.”

Tyler didn't let go of my hand. His was so big, it totally encircled mine, making me feel all protected and taken care of. Like he was going to make sure nothing bad happened to me.

Remember how I said I wanted to find Ariel and Emily?

Ariel who?

We walked back to the car, passing people in every kind of costume you could imagine: Elvis impersonators, girls dressed like Britney Spears, guys with long hair and shaved heads, people dressed up like Las Vegas singers and dressed
way
up, like rappers. It was wild.

But we'd be back . . . I could catch it all later . . . and right now Tyler wanted to be alone with me. Just me. Not Natalie, and not fifteen thousand other people.

I snuggled in close to him as we walked to the car.

“So where are we going?” I asked again.

He smiled. “I've got a surprise,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“A surprise? Tell me! I hate to be surprised,” I said, which was true, although right now I was so happy I was grooving on it.

“You'll see.” He shot me a teasing smile.

I didn't say anything, but in the back of my mind, I was pretty sure I knew where we were headed. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, right? Duh, it was a natural. For one thing, it wasn't far away—right here in downtown Cleveland somewhere—and we were at a music competition! What could be more logical? And for another thing, I'd never been there before. I'd mentioned that sad fact to Tyler when we were having coffee, and he'd said something like, “We should go.”

I couldn't stop grinning, thinking about how sweet it was for him to remember that and arrange this surprise for me. Apparently he'd gotten the directions and everything, because now he seemed to know exactly where he was going as we drove out of the parking lot and headed down the road.

“So you've planned this and everything?” I said, flirting like crazy.

“Yeah.” He took his eyes off the road to look over at me, trying to figure out if I'd guessed the surprise. I was beaming at him like a little kid on Christmas morning. When he saw my smile, his face spread into the kind of smile you give someone you're totally in love with.

A minute later, he pulled into the parking lot of the 40 Winks Motel.

My head snapped, looking over at him, and instinctively I glanced at the gas gauge, wondering if we were out of gas or something was wrong with the car.

But he didn't just stop in the lot. He pulled right up to the motel registration office.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“This is it,” he said. “What, is it too tacky for you? Because I couldn't find a Marriott anywhere nearby.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped, cold as ice.

“This is the surprise,” Tyler said. “What's wrong?”

“What's wrong?!” I said loudly.

“I thought we'd spend the night here,” he said. “It's a lot softer—and more private—than the Q Arena.”

He shot me another one of those grins that he'd been giving me all day. Only now, it didn't seem like the smile you'd give someone you were totally in love with. It was more like a leer.

“You've got to be kidding.” I tried to keep my voice calm, although inside I was ready to scream. “What would make you think I was going to spend the night with you in a motel, for God's sake?”

“Why the hell not?” Tyler snapped. “You did it with Joey on your first date. Why not me?”

I felt like my stomach had suddenly fallen out. I couldn't believe this. Was this the only reason he was into me? He thought I was a slut all along? Just like all the other guys?

I tried to stay calm, hoping I was jumping to the wrong conclusion about him.

“Look,” I said, struggling to keep the edge out of my voice, “I never slept with Joey. All that stuff he wrote on his blog was a lie. He just said all that to make Molly jealous, because she'd dumped him.”

Tyler stared at me with a frozen expression I couldn't read. Was he going to say anything? I mean, what? Was this the
only
reason he'd dated me?

“I'm not ready to have sex with anyone right now,” I went on, since he wasn't saying anything. “I mean, maybe someday, if and when the right guy comes along . . .”

“And I'm not that guy?” he said. He sounded angry. I mean, totally pissed off. Like it was my fault for leading him on or something.

“No. I mean . . . I don't know.” I was still trying to salvage some part of this situation. “I mean, who knows what could happen if we were a serious couple. But I'm just saying, I'm not having sex until it's right . . . with someone I'm in a long-term relationship with . . . when it really means something . . .”

Tyler shook his head and looked away. “Man,” he said, making it sound like a curse word. Then he started the engine and backed the car up fast, the tires screeching.

“What?” I demanded. “What's wrong? Is that all you wanted? Is that the only reason you asked me out?”

He didn't answer. His silence, and the scowl on his face, were answer enough.

“God,” I said. “You guys are all alike.”

My throat closed up so tightly, I thought I wasn't going to be able to breathe. I mean, was there
anyone
out there who would like me just for myself?

I fought hard, trying not to cry. He didn't deserve to see that side of me, to see that he'd hurt me that way.

What a complete jerk,
I thought.
Tyler.
He was just like all the others, only he was better at the game. He was just working it, assuming I'd put out if he played it right.

“So that's it?” I said, my voice cracking. I don't know what I wanted right then, but being driven back to the Q like he couldn't wait to unload a pile of shit from his car was making me feel awful.

“I just don't think we should be together right now,” he said in this cold, fake-logical tone of voice, like he was trying to explain and be reasonable. “It would just be too hard for me to spend the night with you without touching you.”

I could read the message written all over his face:
No sex, no boyfriend.

No wonder he hadn't asked me to the prom yet. He wanted to make sure he knew what kind of prom night he'd have.

The ride back to the arena was excruciating. We didn't say another word to each other the whole time, not in the car or on the way inside, or even when we split up to go find the people we wanted to hang with.

He just marched off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me standing in the lobby.
Wow,
I thought. What a cold bastard.

I went to the restroom and sat in a stall for about ten minutes, my face buried in my hands, trying not to fall apart.

Was my life
ever
going to stop sucking?

Finally I called Emily on her cell, and she told me where to find her—she and Ariel were camped out in some seats in row J of the big auditorium. As soon as they saw me, saw my red eyes, they knew I was upset. Emily ran up and put her arm around my shoulders.

“What happened?” she said, sounding like she'd already guessed.

I shook my head. “He's a jerk, just like all the others.”

Then I glanced around at the clump of other Norton kids who were pretty much camped out together a few rows away.

“If you're looking for him, he's not here,” Emily said. “He left a few minutes ago.”

“Left?” I gave her a questioning stare.

“With Natalie. They both took their duffels,” she added with a look on her face.

“Wow. I guess the 40 Winks Motel isn't too tacky for some people,” I muttered.

And I was right. They didn't come back until morning.

 

 

 

“Carmen, wake up. You're drooling.”

A voice jarred me out of a heavy, dream-filled sleep, and my head snapped up off my chest.

“What?” I opened my eyes groggily.

“It's time to get in line outside Room B,” Emily said, staring down at me from the aisle of row J in the Q Arena.

Ow. My neck hurt from slumping over onto the hard wooden seat back, my legs hurt from trying to curl up on the arms of the seat next to me, and my everything hurt from being squished into a contortionist's position.

“Maybe I won't go,” I said, yawning. “I'm so tired.”

“Oh, come on,” Emily prodded me. “You have to go. We're in this together, remember?”

I glanced at my watch and moaned. “I've only been asleep for an hour,” I complained. It was 10:00 a.m., and we'd stayed up all night.

“Well, I haven't slept at all!” Emily said. “Come on—you can't quit now. I have good news for you.”

“What?” I sat up straighter.

“Natalie just had her audition, and she got rejected,” Emily reported.

“Really?” A smile crept across my lips.

“Yeah, I heard they told her she was a big phony, and they're looking for real, honest personalities,” Emily said, beaming.

I smiled for a minute, rubbing my eyes and trying to wake up more. Emily was so supportive. But then the reality hit me. “Wait a minute,” I said. “If Natalie got rejected, what are the chances they'll take me? She's a much better singer than I am.”

Emily put her hands on her hips and looked at me grumpily. “Look, if you quit, I might as well quit. You're so much hotter and more charismatic than I am.”

Oh, wow. She knew how to work me already, and we'd only been friends for a few weeks!

“Okay, okay,” I said, reaching for my duffel to find a brush. “No way am I letting you go home without auditioning.”

I mean, seriously. Emily had the best voice of all of us. And I was still determined to help her come out of her shell. I wasn't going to let her down now—especially not after I'd worked so hard to get her a whole new wardrobe and even change her hair. I'd finally talked her into cutting
and
coloring it, turning it into strawberry blond instead of plain old straw.

We grabbed our stuff and headed to the restroom to freshen up. I was glad I'd brought along clothes—there's nothing like a clean pair of panties to make you feel like you've showered when you haven't. I layered on the extra top I'd brought, too, so now I was wearing three tops
and
a scarf. That funky, layered look is my trademark.

I washed my face in the sink and redid my makeup. Then I fixed Emily's makeup, adding some blush and eyeliner that she would never have let me put on her ordinarily, but she was so jazzed about the audition, she couldn't complain.

When we were set, we ran out into the hall to wait outside Room B.

Ariel was just coming out—she had a lower number for some reason.

I took one look at her face and knew she'd been rejected.

“They asked me if I was one of the joke contestants!” she moaned.

“That is so mean,” I said.

“They're really tired and cranky themselves,” Ariel informed us, “so you have to be even better than great to get their attention.”

“Wow. But how come they're tired? The judges didn't stay up all night, did they?”