Foolish Games (11 page)

“We’re on the move?” Riley snickered.

“Virginia Beach?” I quoted before pushing the sheet off me again. “I need to know everything there is to know about this Johnson guy, like yesterday.”

“You’re in luck; The Grimm Brothers Band is promoting him on their tour,” Riley said the first happy news I had heard since waking up to this nightmare.

“So when are you going to blog your response to Hawkins’ comments?” Lizzie cut to the chase.

“I’m not.” I sighed and rolled over on my back to stare up at the ceiling of the van.

“What do you mean that you’re
not
?” The smile quickly faded from her face.

“Rule number five, don’t get in so deep that you’re over your head.”

“English?” she asked.

“It’s not worth it.”

“You just made that up.” Lizzie turned away from me and silently sulked.

“Pretty much, but my point is this,” I explained. “The rules were created for a reason.”

“To keep everyone else out,” Lizzie muttered. “The way Jake did when he kicked you out of that party while filming it for YouTube.”

“You don’t have to shove it down her throat.” Riley glared over at Lizzie. “We were all there.”

“Yes, because of that,” I whispered to myself.

“It got a little over two thousand hits,” I said brightly. “That’s more than the entire enrollment of Preston High.”

“When are you going to get over that?” she asked me.

“It just happened.” I rolled my eyes at Lizzie. “So I’m sorry if I don’t want to be subjected to more public ridicule like what’s in this magazine.” I held it up and then tossed it back down.

“Last time I checked it was my name written in that article and I’m fine with it. Maybe I should be the one blogging from now on.” Lizzie shrugged. “It can’t be that difficult.”

“Fine by me.”

“Anyone need a rest room break? I have to stop to get gas,” Riley interrupted our fight. He pulled off at the next gas station and stopped by the pump. After we parked, Lizzie quickly exited the van. “I need some air,” she huffed before slamming the door shut.

After sliding back the side door, I dangled my legs over the side of the van. The humidity hit me in full force and I noticed that there was sand around the outskirts of the parking lot. We were near the ocean already? How long had I been sleeping? As if he could read my thoughts, Riley pulled a folded piece of paper from his back jeans pocket while he continued to pump gas. “Here, I know how much you like this part.”

Opening the paper up, I smiled up at him, knowing it was the MapQuest directions. “Where are we now?” I asked, looking down at it.

“We’re in Hampton, a little over thirty minutes out.”

“I’m just glad we’re as far away as possible from that parking lot.” I sighed, remembering last night’s scare.

“You said that you saw someone?”

“Yeah, well, not their face, just their silhouette through the curtain.”

“You’re bound to have the occasional crazy with the cities we visit. Not exactly the safest conditions to live out of a van. That’s if you didn’t have me around of course.” He smiled, pausing a second before he continued, “I know that Lizzie is going about it in all the wrong way, but did you
read
the article? Did you read what he called you?”

“You think that I should comment?” I started to consider the possibility.

“I wouldn’t let him get away with saying those things if it were me, if that’s what you’re asking.” He pulled out the gas nozzle. “Especially after the two of you agreed not to comment on each other anymore.” He turned back around. “It sounds like he’s testing you.”

Just then Lizzie came out of the convenience store like a speed walker while waving another magazine in her hand. “Just more of the interview.” She slapped a different magazine down on my lap. I looked down at the opened magazine, skimming through the rather painful article for any current news. “Hawkins tweeted, ‘I never intended to jolt her bones in any way.’”

“Okay, okay,” I said until I found it. “Hawkins said, ‘I actually feel bad for the girl. Hopefully she can get the help that she needs. Besides that, I would like to set the record straight. I think
women
are beautiful with all different kinds of hair colors and
little girls
with egos too big to fit in an elevator aren’t.’”

Both of them were silent as I took the unexpected blow. I knew that it shouldn’t have hurt. He had called me unattractive before, but that was when I had raccoon eyes and a purple hooker shirt. Who knew what else he had said that didn’t get published? I had to admit, someone mark it down, Lizzie was right.

“Where’s the computer?” I asked.

“Yes!” Lizzie jumped up and down excitedly. Riley merged on the highway again as I booted up the computer in the back.

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Hawkins,” Lizzie said while rubbing her hands together in a scheming kind of way.

“Wait, hold up,” I said to her. “That was good! Just give me two seconds.” Logging onto the section of the site reserved for employees only, I wiggled my fingers over the keyboard.

“I’m ready.”

Ten minutes later, after everyone helped, we had ourselves a contending blog to Hawkins thoughtless babble.

I read it aloud for all of us to review. “Yes, I have rules which include; not taking candy from a stranger, not taking a ride from a stranger, and not going to a hotel room with a stranger! And, if the world must know, I was invited! I know that it hurts to be turned down, but welcome to the real world, buddy. If it wasn’t for us coattail riders, there wouldn’t be a summer tour. I’m not talking to his fan base now when the only thing he really cares about is Jack and Coke. Forget about your hair color, girls, because the only action you’ll be getting is watching him down another drink while texting away on his BlackBerry all alone. I don’t feel sad for him anymore, just regret.” After reading it, I put my hand on the mouse and dragged it over to the send icon.

“Here goes nothing.” I then clicked the mouse and watched the blog pop up on the editing boards of the website.

“He should watch who he messes with,” I said under my breath.

We were giggling with euphoria as we drove to the concert. I was satisfied with what I had written in my blog, but I felt a little more nervous with each passing minute. I would be in Hawkins’ territory at the venue—his backyard—and frankly, way too close to the stage. Not that I thought he would have me personally escorted out of the pavilion, though it did run through the irrational part of my mind once or twice. Yet I would only look weak to blog about him and then not show up to face whatever may come, hell or high water. I needed to be brave. I couldn’t let Hawkins win this one by being scared.

We sat in the concert traffic for a little over thirty minutes while Riley serenaded us with, “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” Once we had parked, we opened the side door to the van. Laying on my back, I took in the inviting cool shade. When I heard the sound of voices, I lifted my head to focus on the small huddled group of guys around the side of our van.

“Aren’t you that girl from the magazine?” a guy asked Lizzie. Groaning, I laid my head back down on the cot again.

“Yes, I am,” Lizzie said sweetly. She was probably dazzling them with her smile, too.

After locking up the van an hour later, we started our hike up to the security line to be frisked. I noticed that we were getting a lot of attention as we headed to our seats. It shouldn’t have felt personal since they were looking at Lizzie, but I realized while standing there beside her that it was starting to play tricks on my mind. It felt like they might as well have been looking at me, too.

The Larks were already playing when we finally found our seats that felt too damn close to the stage. Then I reminded myself of a few choice words: “I think
women
are beautiful and
little girls
with egos too big to fit in an elevator aren’t.” The Larks left the stage and with that thought I said to myself, “Let the good times roll.”

Hawkins strutted across the stage and I was prepared to glare back up at him, but I noticed that he didn’t look absolutely sinister with rage as I had expected. He strummed the first chord on his guitar and the lights went up. Ten songs later, without a single song directed at me in the set list, I was starting to wonder if he had read the blog yet. I glanced over at Riley to see if I missed something, but he just shrugged. It wasn’t until the end of the show that I sensed something was amiss.

“Thanks for coming out,” Hawkins said when his eyes flashed down to mine with a flicker of condemnation across his face. Then, as soon as it happened, it was over, and he exited the stage. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause around us.

Lizzie and Riley, who seemed to have noticed the exchange as well, both forced a smile at me. Lizzie was sure that she could put Hawkins in his place backstage if she needed to when she met up with Warren. She assured me several times until we finally went our separate ways.

“Oh, my god, if looks could kill,” I said to Riley.

“You’d be something crispy and dead.” He nodded along in agreement.

Just then my cell phone went off in my pocket. Pulling it out, my heart raced when I saw that it was a text from Lizzie. “Oh, no.” I opened my cell to read it. “Meet me backstage. I need to talk to you about something.”

“That can’t be good,” Riley said after looking down at the text, too.

“Do you have the other backstage pass?”

“I don’t know if I want you going in there alone.” Riley hesitated. “What could be so important that she would text you to come backstage after just leaving?”

“I don’t know, but she wouldn’t do it unless it was absolutely necessary.” I reasoned and he agreed. We both headed back to the side entrance near the stage. I saw Harrison, Woodley, and Hampton searching the crowd as if they were looking for someone from the backstage door.

“Maybe we can both get in with this pass?” Riley was hopeful as we approached the bodyguards.

My stomach dropped when all three of the bodyguards zeroed in on me and opened the door without a moment’s hesitation. They didn’t even check to see if I had a backstage pass on me as I crossed through the doorway. Riley tried to follow after me, but they firmly held him back and closed the door. When I tried the handle I heard behind me, “Looking for someone?”

My heart jumped because I recognized the voice. Closing my eyes, I felt my shoulders slump as I turned around. Hawkins was leaning against a nearby wall. He was dressed in a navy blue shirt with two buttons undone exposing his tan chest. He wore two long, leather necklaces with one silver charm that dangled over his taunt collarbone. Hawkins crossed his arms, revealing his tan hands and clean, short nails. I noticed that in one hand he was gripping a pink encased phone.

“Where’s Lizzie?”

“Trying to take advantage of the situation with Warren,” he stated and I knew all too well what he meant.

“How did you get her phone?”

“It’s not hard to do when she’s trying to smother me.” He shrugged; his eyes were drawn to mine.

I knew that he was closely examining my face for a reaction. So I said, “Well, I’d be surprised if you still had
your
phone.”

A small smile played across his face. “You know, I did have to check to make sure.”

“So you brought me back here, why?” 

“I thought that we had an agreement,” he reminded me.

“Ah yeah, we
did
,” I crossed my arms, “until
you
broke our agreement.”

“Technically, I didn’t break anything.” He turned on his shoulder to face me. “I said those things
before
we promised each other in the elevator.”

“So you mean to tell me that between posting my comments that night till the next morning when we made our agreement, that in that small space of time, you had the time to talk to all those magazines?” I looked up at him with a one word expression across my face,
please
.

“My publicist called me that morning for my comment. How else would I have known about it in the elevator?”

“You read it on the website?”

“Not that early in the morning,” he emphasized with a glance over his shoulder at a passing crew member.

“How was I supposed to know that
technically
you didn’t break your promise to me?”

“Because I rarely ever go back on my word.” He raised his gaze level with mine.

“I don’t know you that well,” I said in my defense.

“That’s funny,” he said with the tilt of his head. “You act like you do when you’re blogging about me.”

Damn.

“Just curious, what did I say that pissed you off so much?”

“Who said I was mad?”

“So you wrote that blog out of the kindness of your heart?” His dark eyebrows accented the annoyed expression on his face.

Before giving it another thought, I decided to confess the truth. “Little girls with egos too big to fit in an elevator aren’t attractive,” I exhaled in one long sigh. I felt my shoulders cave and looked away from his penetrating glare.

“And you cared what I thought?” He cracked a smile.

“Not particularly.”

“Oh, I think you did,” he said.

“
No
.”

“Yes.”

“No, god.” I threw my hands up. “What I meant is, that it would be nice if you stopped shoving your ‘expert’ opinions about me down my throat for once.”

“Ha.” He cocked his head back to laugh. “That’s a good one.”

“You know, you’re a funny girl.” He waggled his finger at me. “Yeah, ah.” He was smiling at me, but not really, before he continued, “That Jack and Coke thing was also
really
funny.”

“Ok—ay?”

“Yeah, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.” Crossing his arms, he looked like he was enjoying some kind of personal joke.