Bad Boy Rock Star (15 page)

You know when you wake up feeling like a prize-fighter has used your body as a punching bag for a workout session during the night? Yeah, that.

I couldn’t move.
I seriously could not move. I tried to lift my head off the pillow but I didn’t have the strength. I didn’t have the motivation either because it was as cold as an iceberg out there. I wouldn't have been surprised to see a penguin waddling through the room.

My legs, my back, my arms.
My throat. Had I been swallowing razor blades? I couldn’t remember doing that, yet that’s what my throat felt like. I pulled the blankets up; I’d just stay there and die or at least try to get my strength back. Bed wasn’t warm but it was warmer than it was out there.

Then I remembered, I had to get up and do stuff.
I’d promised Angie I’d meet her at the station. I had no time for lollygagging around in bed.

But, that cold, draughty train station concourse and standing there for
two hours. And now we weren’t even snuggled up in nice, warm tree frog costumes but cutesy ‘60s style air hostess uniforms. The wind would whip around my legs until I shivered myself to death.

I tried to stand up and move to the bathroom but, as soon as my feet hit the floor, I felt dizzy.
And the draught came through the floorboards wrapping my feet in chilling fingers like a monster trying to drag me to its subarctic hell.

I scrambled for the socks I’d kicked off in my sleep.
My pink and white bed socks I’d gotten for only $2. I put them on. But the tiles in the bathroom would be even colder than the floor in my room. I didn’t have the mental strength to deal with that cold. The pressure building up in my face made it hard for me to think. My temples throbbed and everything looked blurry.

Surely they didn’t want a bleary eyed, hollow shell of a promo girl handing out their stuff?
 If I looked half as bad as I felt, people would flee from me in terror.

I put my feet back under the covers and tried to find the warm spot in the bed then lu
nged out for my bag, using a magazine to knock it closer so I didn’t have to get out from the bed. I hooked the magazine around the strap and lifted it to me. Hannah ingenuity.

My phone wasn’t in my bag though.
I’d sat it somewhere after I’d called Frank the night before.

I’d got
ten home in a decent mood, despite Spud being a pissy little bitch at the rehearsal.  My anger with Dad had gone and I’d thought out a plan on the way home.  We could work out how much money he needed and I’d scrape up as much as I could.  I had my share of the band money and the leftover from selling my clothes. I’d offer that to him. After all, he was family and I had to help out.

When I opened the door though, I couldn’t see any sign of Dad
.

"
Dad?" I called out, even though it was hardly like he’d be hiding under the bed or in the dresser. "Dad?"

He might have gone out for the day but I looked for his bag and couldn’t find it.

He’d gone to Frank’s. That had to be it. He’d figured he’d stay there until I cooled off.

I rang Frank.

"Is Dad there?"

"
I haven’t heard from him since last night. Why?"

"
He’s not here. We had a disagreement this morning." That was an understatement but I didn’t want to spill it all out to Frank. "I’ve been out all day and now he’s not here and his bag is gone too."

There was a long silence then Frank spoke.

"Shit, Hannah. That’s not good. That’s not good at all. That’s really messed things up… no, no, it’s not your fault… it’s just, we could’ve worked something out."

Stupid Frank
, being all cryptic again. Now I had no Dad again, just a horrible tight feeling in my chest, making me think I’d been a real bitch to him.

The whole Dad issue could go on the back burner until I had the brain
capacity to deal. I had no idea if he was even still around or if he'd run back to where he'd been hiding. I hadn't asked him about that. I hadn't really talked to him much about his life because I'd been so angry. Now, the thought of it all made my head more blurry.

Phone, phone, where are you, phone?

There was so much junk beside my bed though – coffee cups and magazines and a book Angie had loaned me and three things of eye shadow including purple and I never even knew I owned a purple eye shadow.

I needed to clean up this pigsty but I lacked the strength.
I wanted to go back to sleep but I couldn’t until I’d called Angie.

I lifted the magazine.
Yay! Phone.

I rang Angie and told her I couldn’t make it.

"I’m sorry, you’ll just have to promo without me. The show must go on and all that…" Then I started coughing like an old man.

"
Just get well. I’ll be stuck in the edit suite at school for hours after that but I’ll pop around when I've finished to check on you. Do you need anything? Juice? Soup? Trashy magazines?"

"
Yes. All of the above. And coffee. I don’t even think I can make it to the coffee shop."

Angie laughed and hung up while I collapsed back into bed.
She was the best. I could not even conceive of trying to get out of bed to go to the shops.

I needed to get up and turn the heater on and maybe get some more blankets.
I needed another pair of socks on my feet and some gloves. But the socks were so far away. I’d nap first to gather my strength.

I must have napped all day because I woke up to the phone ringing and the deep shadows of late afternoon in my room. I’d
only woken up to cough and hack and feel miserable before falling back to sleep again.

Where'd I put that phone after I'd used
it? I could hear the muffled ring. It wasn't on the floor. It kept ringing and finally I found it, under the blankets.

Angie?

But it was Jack Colt. He talked some stuff but I couldn’t really follow him. He talked something… something… record company guy… something. His words blurred in my head and didn't make any sense.

"
Huh?" Then I started hacking again.

"
You sound like shit."

"
Yeah well I feel like shit too. I think I’m dying." My voice croaked out like a broken thing.

"
I’ll come over."

Before I could tell him no, he’d hung up.
I didn’t want Jack Colt to come over. If I sounded like shit and felt like shit, chances were I looked like shit too and I lacked the strength to put on makeup. Maybe I could get a scarf and wrap it around my face. I'd just have to suck it up and let him see me looking like a monster because I really could not move.

Not long after that, he knocked on my door.

"Wow, you really look like shit!"

"
Thanks." I sat on the edge of the bed, shivering. I rubbed my arms to get some warmth in them. The room had gotten even colder. I’d put on a hat and some gloves and wore about five layers of clothes but that didn't help. I had three pairs of socks on my feet.

Jack wrapped a blanket around me and put his hand against my forehead.

"You're burning up. You’re really sick. Do you have any cold tablets?"

I shook my head and pulled the blanket around me tighter.
Even though he said I was hot, I felt freezing cold. He put his arm around me and stroked my hair. That made me feel a bit better, the feeling of his hand on my hair. Comforting, yet at the same time thrilling. I didn't even want to think about the tingles he sent through me when he did that. Not when I felt so sick.

I leaned my head on his shoulder and let him caress me.
I couldn't remember anyone ever being so gentle and caring, not even when I was a child. I'd always been told I was fine and to be tough. But it was nice, for just a few minutes to let him look after me.

For a few moments, I could try not being tough and not being fine but just letting him soothe me.
The softness of his jumper tickled my cheek. It felt cosy and warm. Something stirred in my stomach. Not the crappy sick feeling I'd had all day but something warm and nice.

Then my nose started running.
I didn't want to move to get a tissue in case it distracted him and the spell he'd created got broken but I couldn't sit there with snot dripping down my face either. Who even wants a guy to see her like that? All the glamour I tried to surround myself with had disappeared and I was just sick and snotty girl. I tried to sniff quietly so he wouldn't notice. Just a few short, gentle sniffs. Maybe I'm a gross person but who'd move in that position?

That didn't even help.
I'd become a factory of mucus and phlegm. A dripping tap.

He reached across me and pulled a tissue out of the box, his arm leaning across my lap.
I sucked in my breath, not sure how to act with him that close to me. He handed the tissue to me.

"Now
, blow!" He said it in a strict voice.

He pushed me back on the bed and wiped my nose
, as if I was a little kid or something. I tried to push him off so I could do it myself but he had me down firm.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Angie stood in the middle of the room with a bag of groceries in one hand and a coffee in the other. She hadn’t knocked, so I must’ve not shut the door properly after Jack came in. She stared at Jack and at me. Her eyes flashed cold, as if she wanted me dead. I could see that from her point of view it must've looked bad, the two of us frolicking on the bed.

"Looks like you don't need me."
She threw the bag of groceries on the floor and ran out.

"Angie, Angie… don't go."

But it was too late.
I tried to follow her but my legs quivered like jelly. I collapsed back onto the bed but I needed to explain to her. I'd told her I wasn't interested in Jack, and I wasn't. I really wasn't. It was just that he was so soft and lovely. I'd thought she just had a fangirl crush on Jack, nothing serious but, from the crumpled look on her face when she'd seen us, maybe she liked him a lot more than she'd let on.

A lump rose in my throat with worry that she hated me now.
She'd sure looked as if she hated me when she ran out. If she'd been one of my friends, my old friends from my old life, I'd have laughed and felt superior to them but this was Angie. I really wanted her to like me. I wanted her to think I was a good person. I liked it when we hung out together. We were a team.

I sobbed a little, a strangled cry from my heart.

Jack looked at me, quizzically.

"What was that about?"

"Forget about it.
Girl stuff." I didn't want to explain and I didn't know if Angie wanted me going into all the details of her feelings. If Jack hadn't worked that out for himself then I wasn't about to tell him.

He shrugged.

"Okay, but you can't stay here. This place is like a bloody freezer. Come over to our place so you can recover. We have central heating and you'd have decent food."

I shook my head.
That would only make things worse with Angie.

"I'm not taking no for an answer.
I can't leave you here like this." He put his arm around me and lifted me off the bed. I really had no choice. Not without telling him and then he'd think I was stupid for even imagining that he felt anything for me.

"My phone." I could contact Angie to explain.
Surely she'd not even think anyone was interested in me when I looked like a red-faced, snotty-nosed pig.

He sat me down and tidied up the groceries Angie had dropped. I really wished she’d given me my coffee before she took off.

I grabbed my phone and made sure I had the necessities in my bag – wallet, keys and lip balm.

He reached for me again.

"It’s okay, I can walk to the car."

I pulled the blanket around
myself and shuffled outside.

In the car,
I tried to call Angie but she didn't answer her phone. Then I tried to send her a text but it was hard to find the words. What did I say? I know you like Jack and you think we were up to something but it was not what it looked like. That sounded a bit weird but it was the best I could do. It took me the whole drive just to write that and then rewrite it.

Jack put me to bed and I snuggled under the blankets feeling warm for the first time that day. Why had he changed so much?
From the snarly horrible beast that ignored me, to this gentle man who looked after me when I was sick. Maybe he had multiple personalities? That seemed like the most likely explanation. I'd seen a movie once with someone like that. I shouldn't overthink it anyway, just appreciate the warm bed and the care. It sure beat being in my lousy flat shivering to death with no food.

As I drifted off to sleep, I could hear the gentle strumming of a guitar from downstairs.
That soothed me too and made me feel like I had when Jack stroked my hair. I smiled as I feel asleep.