Phone Calls From a Rock Star (35 page)

He shook his head slowly, wincing as he did
so. “You’re safe on campus—they can’t go on the school grounds.
Monique charged her ex-boyfriend with battery—the press is all over
her. Her ex-boyfriend’s family is taunting her. She needs a place
to hide out for a few days.”

“
Doesn’t she have anyone
else to stay with?” I hated how petulant and selfish I sounded but
I was helpless to stop it. I’d been looking so forward to this week
with him. I
needed
this week.

“
Her family are all in
France,” he informed me coldly.

“
Well, I would think now is
the perfect time for her to visit them.” I drew a ragged breath and
narrowed my eyes. “I can’t stay here with her.”

“
Oh, geez, Iz. Stop acting
like some immature high school kid.”

I took three long steps and
yanked the sliding door open, shouting over my shoulder.
“Hel-
lo
! I am an
immature high school kid!” I charged through the kitchen and ran to
the living room, nearly plowing a sleepy Nick over in my
escape.

“
Hey, Iz,” he greeted with
a wide smile. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“
I’m not staying,” I
gritted as I shoved past him and threw open the front
door.

“
Where do you think you’re
going, Iz?” Jake asked in a tired, defeated voice behind
me.

Anger scorched my face, my neck, my veins,
as I turned to face them both. My hands shook as I stepped
backwards onto the porch.

“
I’m going to Florida to
stay with Cammy. She
wants
to spend time with me.” I spun and stumbled, but
righted myself as Jake reached out and snagged my arm.

“
Stop it, Iz,” he ordered,
bloodshot eyes burning into me. “We’ll figure something
out.”

“
I can’t, Jake,” I
whispered hoarsely, tears prickling the back of my eyes. “This is
all too much for me. I need to get away.”

I pulled out of his grip and kissed his
cheek then I walked to my car.

“
Sure, whatever. Call me
when it’s not too much for you, Iz,” he shouted angrily before
storming back through the door and slamming it behind
him.

The tears came as I raced down the drive, my
tires kicking up mud in my wake. The gates opened automatically and
the photographers snapped pictures of my car. I hoped they couldn’t
see my face but with my luck, they’d probably get front page
material.

I parked at O’Hare, slung my bag over my
shoulder and bought a one-way ticket to Miami, grateful I had
enough money on my credit card.

***

“
I’m glad you came, though
I’m sorry about why you came,” Cammy told me as we strolled down
the sidewalk that Tuesday, searching for more appropriate Florida
clothing for me—the things I had packed in my bag were intended for
Chicago weather. My heart hurt every time I thought about Chicago.
I hadn’t called Jake nor had he called me. I figured we both needed
some time to cool down.

I’d called my confused parents and only told
them that there’d been a change of plans and that I would be
joining Cammy and her family instead. I’d asked them, too, to
please wire money, fairly certain there’d be no more room on my
credit card.

“
Oh, let’s check this place
out,” Cammy suggested as we came upon a hip new shop. Cool air
smacked our faces as we stepped inside, escaping the humid Florida
heat. VTV blasted from several televisions strategically placed
throughout the tiny boutique.

Cammy headed directly for a rack of club
dresses and shuffled through them, why, I didn’t know. She held up
a short, navy blue one in front of me and I frowned. She shrugged
and put it back while I wandered over to a more casual rack.

I’d just found a cute pair of Capri pants
when the introduction jingle for the music news forced me to look
up at the TV out of habit. I blanched when I saw Jake’s face. I was
standing, holding the pants in my hand, gaping at the television
when Cammy found me. Pain shot through my heart like an arrow
through an apple as I stared at the photo on the screen, longing to
touch him again—just once.

Cammy put a supportive arm around my
shoulders as we listened to the anchorwoman describe Jake’s
birthday party—complete with photos—at a hot Chicago club. She gave
an abbreviated, but impressive, list of people who’d attended. Of
course I wasn’t on it.

“
Get me out of here,
please,” I begged Cammy. She took the Capris from my hand and
tossed them on the rack. Grabbing my hand, she maneuvered me around
the displays and back into the warm, Florida sunshine. “The rag
mags will have a field day with this.”

“
We’ll go out tonight,” she
promised as she ushered me to the rental car. “We’ll get your mind
off all that stuff.”

I wasn’t sure it would work but I was
willing to try.

***

We went out to dinner with Cammy’s parents
that evening and somehow they found us. The photographers and
reporters lined the sidewalk outside the restaurant when we exited.
Mr. Sullivan kept me close to his side as we pushed our way through
to his rental car. Guilt rained on me once we were all safely
ensconced in the car, and I apologized over and over - even
suggesting that I go home. But Cammy’s parents wouldn’t hear of
it.

“
Don’t worry about those
pesky people, Bella,” Mrs. Sullivan, so very much like her
daughter, cooed. “Just try to relax and have fun. We love having
you with us.”

But the next evening when Mr. Sullivan
suggested a trendy new restaurant on the beach, I begged off,
claiming to not be hungry. I was terrified I’d ruin their vacation
and offered to at least get a hotel room so they’d have some
peace.

“
We’d rather have you here
where we know you’re safe,” Mr. Sullivan told me in a firm tone. He
relaxed into a soft grin. “Besides, this is the most fun we’ve had
in ages.”

On Thursday morning, Cammy and I donned our
bathing suits and hit the private beach. I spotted a few lurkers
snapping pictures but I ignored them. My suit was very modest—it
didn’t even show any butt cheek.

Spreading our towels on the warm sand, I
welcomed the warm rays from the sun. They even seemed to melt some
of the ice on my cracked heart. I shoved my sunglasses over my eyes
and focused on nothing but the sun, the sand, and my best
friend.

“
How are you really doing,
Bella?” Cammy whispered.

“
Okay,” I said, not wanting
to admit how much my heart pained me. I didn’t want to admit how
hurt and betrayed I still was by Jake’s actions. I couldn’t believe
he would hide Monique in his house the week I was supposed to spend
with him. I ignored the little voice in my head reminding me how
selfish I was being and focused only on the heavy cloud of
disappointment marring my perfect day. “I don’t want to think about
it today.”

Cammy propped herself up on an elbow. “Sure,
whatever you want. But I know you’re hurting, and I don’t like
it.”

I smiled despite my pain and kissed her
cheek. “Let’s concentrate on our tans today, huh? We’re on
vacation.”

She returned my smile and fell back to her
towel.

That evening, Cammy decided we needed to hit
some under twenty-one clubs and show off our newly acquired tans.
Not wanting to damper her vacation further, I agreed. She dressed
me up in a skirt and halter, the standard uniform for these clubs,
and whisked me away in the rental car.

The small club was loud and the music
pumping. Although it was a popular spot for those under the legal
drinking age, it wasn’t full to capacity. The thumping music was
not my usual preference, but I allowed the beat to flood my body as
Cammy dragged me to the dance floor. Finally, it seemed, I was able
to relax, especially since I could see no signs of photographers,
and began to enjoy the time with Cammy.

I tried to push Jake out of my mind, but he
lingered in the back of my brain, a constant reminder of the cause
of my listless heart. My silent phone, tucked neatly in the front
pocket of my denim skirt, prodded me, too—teasing me like a
spiteful child to a caged animal. I knew all I really had to do was
call him, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to
say.

I ignored it all the best I could and
concentrated on Cammy and dancing and nothing else. Even the male
admirers that approached us did nothing to garner my attention.
Cammy politely declined their invitations to dance and offers of
soft drinks.

When it grew late, we decided it was time to
head back to the condo. We were all flying back Saturday evening
and Cammy didn’t want us to be tired for our last day of shopping
and tanning.

I knew my good fortune couldn’t last
because, really, does it ever?

We stepped out of the club, laughing at a
lame pickup line a guy had tried to use on Cammy when a camera
flashed in our faces. Anger heated my blood and sent my furious
heart pumping double time. My hands balled into tight fists.

“
Leave me the hell alone!”
I screamed.

Cammy hooked my arm and jogged us down the
sidewalk to the car, a small horde trailing behind us. Once she
unlocked it, she shoved me into the passenger seat. She spun
around, fury evident on her pretty face.

“
Go. Away.”

“
Is it true you and Jake
broke up?” they yelled over Cammy’s shoulder. “Is that why you’re
here without him?”

“
Did Jake and Monique
reconcile?”

“
Did you deny his marriage
proposal?”

“
Leave her alone!” sweet
Cammy shouted, taking purposeful steps toward them. “She just
wanted a quiet vacation with her friend. Why can’t you just go
away?”

“
Do you know if Jake broke
up with her? We saw the photos of her leaving Jake’s house in
tears.”

“
Stop it,” Cammy pleaded.
“That’s enough!”

I could take it no more. They could harass
me all they wanted but I was not going to allow them to attack my
best friend. I jumped out of the car and wrapped my arms around
Cammy’s waist, trying to tug her to the rental. She stood her
ground, shouting at the reporters, more angry than I’d ever seen
her.

Finally, a police officer arrived,
stationing himself between me and Cammy and the rabid reporters. He
ordered us to get in the car and leave. I could have kissed him,
even if he was forty and…well…not quite as in shape as he should
be. Instead I yelled out my thanks as I shoved Cammy at the car,
begging her to get us away from that scene.

I flew out the next morning. Alone.

I had just collected my luggage and was
stumbling around the parking garage, trying to remember where I’d
parked my car, when my phone rang. It was Greta.

“
Hi, Greta!” I greeted with
false cheerfulness. “How are you?”

“
Where are you?” she asked.
“I saw you on television this morning trying to escape a bunch of
reporters in Florida.”

“
I’m actually in a parking
garage at O’Hare at this moment.” I frowned, twirling around to see
if anything looked remotely familiar.

“
Stop here on your way
home, please,” she begged. “I want to see you.”

My heart flipped, my hands shaking. “I don’t
know if that’s a good idea.”

“
My stupid brother isn’t
here, don’t worry. I miss you.”

I released another desperate sigh,
disappointed but relieved at the same time. “Okay. But I need
directions.”

She gave me directions as I hung up and
finally located my car. I drove slowly to her house, praying she
wasn’t lying. I wasn’t ready to see Jake yet.

She bounded from the house as soon as I
pulled in the drive, reminding me of a happy hound greeting its
master. She yanked my door open and hugged me.

“
I’m so glad you’re
here.”

I smiled, genuinely happy to see her.
Snatching a bag from the front seat, I followed her inside. Once we
settled on the sofa, I gave her a cute seashell anklet I’d found in
Florida. She thanked me over and over as she quickly put it on.

“
You almost look good,” she
said.

“
Huh?”

She took my hand. “What’s going on? I heard
on TV you and Jake had a fight but he won’t tell me anything. He’s
been over here every night and locks himself away with Dad in his
office.”

“
Is he okay?” I asked,
anxiety rattling my heart.

“
No,” she grunted. “He’s as
miserable as you are.”

When the front door opened, I jumped in
agitation. But it was James Johnson who walked in and greeted me
with a surprised smile. He embraced me and dropped a friendly kiss
on my head.

“
How are you,
Iz?”

I shrugged with a trembling smile. I
presented him with a loud tie I brought back for him – hoping to
keep the Jake questions at bay. He laughed and promised to wear it
to work.

“
Why aren’t you at work
today?” I frowned. He didn’t look sick or anything.

“
I’m supposed to go over
and help Jake with the downstairs bathroom. Love the puppy, by the
way.” He grinned, his smile so achingly familiar to
Jake’s.

“
Me, too,” Greta exclaimed.
“He’s adorable. He follows Jake everywhere.”

We all sat on the sofa and the silence was
thick with tension. James took my hand, giving it a gentle
squeeze.

“
Iz, you don’t look as
rested as you should. But neither does he. He’s been over every
night this week, asking me what to do, worried sick about
you.”