Fangirl (11 page)

He could now see that the two kids were teenagers. A boy and girl. They were eating popcorn. Might they even be watching
For Pete's Sake?
A man walked in from another room in a fancy suit and tie and started talking to them. He leaned down and kissed both kids on the forehead and said a few more words before the woman walked in and did the same. As Peter huddled behind the telescope watching, saying to himself,
So normal. So normal. So normal.

Peter slid the telescope back from the window. For all he knew, paparazzi could be staked out across his hotel shooting him spying on the people. He could just imagine the tabloid headline: “Peter Pervert!” He snapped shut the heavy curtains and then, fumbling in the dark, turned the lamp back on.

Then he picked up his laptop and knelt down on the floor and, using the bed as a desk, began typing. At the advice of his father and Abby, Peter had never before followed a fangirl on Twitter; moreover, he had never direct-messaged a fan with a private message. Until now.

Josie got a kick
out of watching her dad barbecue, mostly because he wasn't a very good cook. He had a tendency to burn hot dogs to a crisp by putting them on too early ahead of the burgers and had an epic knack for undercooking burgers so much you could almost hear them moo on the bun.

Yet the enthusiasm Kyle Brant brought to the backyard grill defied his profound lack of expertise. He wore an apron on which was printed in red letters: KISS THE COOK. By the grill, he kept a cutlery set that included a silver spatula, a two-prong fork, an eight-inch knife, and a scraper. By the looks of the blackened rack, the scraper hadn't been used for a while. If, in fact, ever.

Josie could smell the charred remains burning in the backyard as she sat in the dining room at her upright piano, humming along to some simple chord progressions. She had owned the same Casio keyboard for the last five years, but never a piano. The only time she ever got to play a real piano was at Ashley's house, where her family kept a shiny baby grand in their living room that was touched more by their housekeeper's feather duster than someone's fingers. Josie noticed how the keys were much heavier than those on her keyboard; no one ever taught her how to work the pedals to
damper and amplify the sounds, but whenever she sat down on the bench it made her feel like a real songwriter.

The piano in her dad's house was not quite as fancy as Ashley's baby grand. It was a black Yamaha, as good as new, though her dad said he got a “good deal” off a used instrument website. He wouldn't say how much he spent, but Josie knew it was over a thousand bucks. If his goal was to make her want to come to his house more often now that the summer vacation was near, it was working. She could picture spending afternoons playing and writing songs, perhaps even finally learning some of those '90s hits that Christopher exposed her to. She couldn't wait to show Christopher.

“Now you can be the next Katy Perry,” her dad announced through the wall as he listened from the kitchen prepping his meats.

“Maybe,” Josie shouted back. “If I could actually sing!”

“Well, you're a talented hummer. You could be the first famous hummer to be on
American Idol.”

Josie kept tapping the keys. “I'll just stick with writing. The rejection is less harsh on the ego.”

“Well, then you can use it to write songs. Maybe you'll write some real masterpieces in this shack now.” Holding the platter, he poked his head through the doorway. “Two veggie burgers, right?”

“Just one.”

“Let's go with two just in case.”

“Fine. But I probably will only have one.”

“Sarah will eat the other one,” he said, walking out and heading for the back door.

Sarah? Oh, no. Hopefully not another bimbo girlfriend he met at the bar. Hopefully not another girl in her twenties who had a crush on him when he played hockey when they were still in high school. Sarah. That name just sounded to her like the wrong kind of woman for her dad. Josie didn't want him to be alone the rest of his life, but since she had seen so many random chicks come and go, she had grown understandably cynical about his various romances. Especially one named “Sarah.”

The only girlfriend she had ever really liked was Jessie, who worked in the dispatch department of his oil company and absolutely adored her dad. She had kind, dark eyes, naturally wavy hair like from a shampoo ad, and, most important, was respectful toward Josie, even once telling her, “You don't have to like me or even want me around. I get it. I just want you to know my heart is pure, and you can tell me anything.”

Jessie was pretty, but not so attractive that she had gotten used to being given things in life because of her looks. Her dad had a tendency to fall for those kind of girls—the lipstick and eye shadowed-out blondes with beauty queen bodies and intellects as shallow as a kiddie pool. #JustSayNoToBimbos.

As for this “Sarah” lady, Josie would reserve judgment until she could kick her tires and give her a test drive. All her dad asked when it came to new girlfriends was that Josie try
not to compare them to her mom. But even though her mom had been getting on her nerves lately, when it came down to it, Josie respected her mom for always being there for her. The last thing Josie wanted was for some lady to come along that made her mother feel bad about herself, made her wonder whether she wasn't cute enough, or young enough. Josie didn't want to endure overhearing another conversation her mom was having with a girlfriend debating if she should get Botox or not. #OldLadyProblems.

Josie's ideal girlfriend for her dad: smart, friendly, employed, slightly above-average looking, but not spectacular. This was Jessie. The only problem was that since she was a hard-core Christian and Josie's dad informed her he didn't “do the church thing,” the relationship ended faster than a hockey game that goes into a sudden death shootout.

Josie wondered how either her mom or dad could believe in true love ever again, especially when they went from being the most adorable and in love couple in town to being two parents arguing all the time. Certainly, it made Josie question it, and she herself had never even been in love.

They say every glove has a hand that fits

They say there's someone for everyone

I say but how can I believe in such a need

When I see all hearts bleed

As Josie found a C sharp chord that matched the lyrics, she heard a car door slam.

She got up from her piano, and through the front door
screen she saw Connor walking up in his baseball uniform. Sure, he could be a little pest, but on this hot summer evening she had to give him props for being a little cutie in his uniform.

“How was practice, superstar?” she asked as he walked inside.

“Good, but I'm hungry,” he grumbled.

Josie watched him glumly walk by without looking at her. She followed him into the bedroom. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, dropping his backpack on the bed. “I know why you're so happy. I heard you met Peter Maxx. Everyone was talking about it at school. Congrats. You finally lost your virginity.”

“Don't be a scuz.” She knocked him playfully in the arm. “But, I'm not gonna lie, it was cool. But it's not the
only
reason I'm smiling.”

“Okay, I hope it involves food because I am starving.”

“No food. But Dad got me a piano. It's so cool. Check it out.”

“I'm soooo happy for you,” Connor said, popping his eyeballs. “Even happier if he threw down some cashola for my new Xbox.”

“Well, he's been in a giving mood today, so I wouldn't count it out.”

Josie's phone buzzed atop the nightstand between their two beds. It buzzed again. Then again. It began buzzing so much it almost fell off the table.

Josie picked it up and saw that she had almost a hundred text messages and Facebook alerts. And they weren't just stalking
texts from Ashley, and they weren't messages from Christopher offering a shoulder to cry on, though there were a couple of those too. Most were about the hug. Unbeknownst to Josie, an hour ago a Lawndale student posted it on her Twitter and ever since it had been ricocheting around the Web.

Whoa. Check out pics on OMC. Holy whaaa!

wtf! He hugged you. How rad!

I hear wedding bells

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” Josie couldn't believe what she was seeing. The hug was special, for sure. But now her entire school, not to mention the entire Peter fandom, had seen their affectionate embrace.

Josie collapsed butt-first onto her bed and tapped her phone keys like her life depended on it. She clicked on all the random links to blogs that were chattering about the pic. Several fansites were calling Josie a “mystery girl” because you couldn't see her face in the photo. Just the backside of her—and Peter's unusually relaxed face.

“Why are you freaking out?” Connor asked.

“Connor.” She gulped. “I think I'm sort of famous.” She showed him the hugging pic on her phone. “Look.”

Connor strained his eyes to bring the image into focus. “Wow,” he said. “Too bad you didn't wash your hair this morning.”

Connor studied the photo more closely. “All right. Yeah. He probably likes you.”

“How can you tell?” she asked eagerly.

“It's obvious.”

“Like how?”

“Like I have never seen that guy hug a fan like that.”

Josie didn't know whether her brother was jerking her chain or if he was serious. “Doesn't matter either way. I'll probably never see him again.”

“So we won't be moving into a mansion and living like rock stars,” Connor quipped, stepping into the bathroom. “Because I'm all about that.”

Josie ran through the kitchen out to the backyard, where her father was carefully placing a slice of processed yellow cheese onto a sizzling hamburger.

“Dad, this is unbelievable! Check this out!”

He put the spatula down and took hold of her phone, blinking his eyes several times. She couldn't tell if her dad was clearing the smoke from his eyes or if he couldn't believe his little girl was something of a celebrity.

“I take it this is that Peter kid, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“I've seen him on TV. You like him, eh?”

“Obviously.”

He messed up her hair with a twist of his palm, handed the phone back to her, and turned his attention back to the barbecue.

“Be careful.” He pressed the juice out of a patty. “The hottest things in life also can burn you the most.”

Cheese melted down the sides and into the charcoal, spitting puffs of black smoke into the air. The brownish-orange sun began its slow drop toward the western horizon off the side yard fence, just beyond the Frito-Lay plant.

Like clockwork for around early summer, a cool breeze blew in from the west just after seven, sweeping the hot, sticky air out. Fresh air—just what Josie's life needed. Finally, with meeting Peter Maxx, with getting her own piano, with being so at peace with her life for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was getting it.

Her dad served up the burgers on paper plates and squirted ketchup all over them. Connor inhaled two juicy cheeseburgers and a stack of chips inside while watching TV. Josie, meanwhile, sat beside her dad on the back porch step and nibbled her charred veggie burger.

Her phone kept vibrating in her front pocket. “Hey, honey, at least turn it off while we eat,” her dad requested. “I'm sure your pop star will still be there when you turn it back on.” She complied and put it down on the wooden porch floor.

As Josie's dad ate, he kept standing up and looking out over the back fence, as if looking for someone. “You know, Josie, if you're paying attention, working in the oil fields teaches you a lot about life.” He sat down. “Watching those oil pumps bobbing makes you realize life is up and down just like that. But as long as you keep pumping, you eventually will fill up the barrel.”

Josie wanted to say, “Yeah, but oil drilling is also bad for
the environment.” Not wanting to kill his buzz, she instead changed the subject.

“Dad,” she said, snapping him back to attention. “Do you ever miss Mom?”

“I miss the good days, yeah. But I don't miss the bad days.” He gnawed a little more on his cheeseburger. “But I do miss all of us being together as a family. Those were some great days.”

“I don't understand how everything could go from being so good to being so bad. Kind of makes me feel like love is a feeling you can't trust. I mean, did you just wake up one day and things were bad?”

“No, it happened over time. We stopped talking, stopped caring about each other, stopped being curious about each other. Maybe we just ran out of gas. I don't know.” He paused. “My drinking didn't help. I know that.”

Josie tilted her head. “I still don't get it. Makes you think there's no hope for true love.”

He looked out at the backyard. “If I had all the answers, Josie, maybe I would have my own talk show. Like Dr. Phil.”