Over It (The Kiss Off #2) (17 page)

"Ty.”

“Mmm?” he asked. His eyes were closed as he took deep, relaxing breaths, filling his lungs with the ocean air.

“Do you have your laptop here?"

"Not on the beach with me."

“You know what I mean,” I said. I gave him a light shove.

“Yes, I brought my laptop.”

"Do you think I could borrow it? And do you have a microphone we could connect to it or something?"

He frowned, thinking. "I don't, but Seb might. Why, what's going on? Is Poppy Longstocking making a Bay Fest–inspired comeback?"

"No," I said. "Well, sort of. You know the Debutante Dolls?"

"Not personally."

"I wasn't meaning personally, I was meaning like, ‘hey, have you heard of the Debutante Dolls?’" I said.

"Oh. Well in that case, yeah,” Ty said, matching my perky tone. “Sure have."

"Their manager was in the bar at the hotel earlier when I was waiting for Hamish to come pick me up."

"Okay..."

"And he said they've been meaning to contact me and wasn't this a happy coincidence."

"Really? What about?"

"They want me to write a song for them. The Debutante Dolls."

Ty raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! Can you believe it? How freaking epic is that?" I said. "He wants me to record a demo and get it to him before his flight out on Sunday night.”

“...That’s tomorrow.”

“I know. It’s no time. At all. Don't you think?"

"Since he knows you're away at a music festival, yeah, that's no time at all. Bit of a dick move, if you asked me,” he said, “I mean he
knows
you’re unavailable."

"I could be available,” I said. “This could be huge for me."

"Right," he said. "Absolutely. Of course it could." He maneuvered out from between me and the rail and stepped over to the edge of the jetty, looking at the moonlight glinting off the water. I hadn't even noticed when he'd stopped holding me.

He didn't seem excited about this. Not one little bit.

"Isn't that great?" I asked his back.

"Sure," he said. There was no sound of a smile in his voice. "It's great."

I was quiet for a moment before I stepped up beside him on the edge of the jetty. "So…"

"Do you really want to do it?" Ty asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Write a song for the Debutante Dolls. Do you think you're really their sound?"

"Yeah I'm their sound, I could totally do a pop anthem."

"I just see you as more rock than pop."

I gave a confused smile. What? Sure, with their heavy guitars, Academy of Lies had turned
The Kiss Off
into a slice of punk rock angst–ridden heaven, but that wasn't all I was capable of, and my YouTube channel was evidence of that.

“Well they think I can do it, so I’m doing it.”

“Cool,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he meant it. What was going on? I had to lighten the mood somehow.

“So if it’s alright with you,” I said, linking my arm in his and pressing my forehead against his shoulder, “there will most likely be a hot blond in your bedroom tonight.”

I nudged his hip with mine and I guess he hadn’t been expecting it because he jerked forward, thrown off balance. His arms flew out, trying to steady himself.

It didn’t work. I watched in horror, trying to grab for him, but it was too late; Ty tipped over the edge of the jetty and with a squeak of surprise, splashed into the ocean below.

He rose to the surface and spat water up at me, shaking his head.

“Um…Poppy?”

“Sorry about that.”

He shook his head and splashed water into the sky in retaliation. It didn’t even come close.

“Maybe I’d be safer if that hot blond spent the night in her tent.”

Oh, please no. I didn’t want to wake up soaked in sweat from a nylon sauna again. This camping idea had been such a stupid one.

I opened my mouth in mock outrage and pointed at my head. “Hello, concussion over here.”

He cringed and looked away. “Okay, you have a point.” He threw his beard at me and it hit the deck with a sloppy thwack. I picked it up, squeezed it out and held it up to my face.

“How do I look?” I asked. “As fetching as you did?”

“Not possible.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, lowering the beard. I couldn’t understand why men would want facial hair, especially a full beard like this. I imagined every time they ate it would be just like when a girl gets drunk and needs to hold her hair back so as not to vomit in it. Only it was more likely to trap chunks because it was right there on your face, like a giant, furry bib.

He stroked lithely through the water to a set of metal rails on the edge of the jetty and hauled his sodden self back up, water pooling underfoot. He pulled off a sneaker and poured the entire ocean out of it.

“So am I still okay to sleep over tonight?” I asked. “And use your laptop?”

“You only want me for my electronics.”

I shrugged, biting my lip to hold back a smile. He rolled his eyes, stared at me for a moment and I screamed as he lunged forward, wrapped me in a soggy bear hug and spun me around. When he let go he wrung his tee shirt out on my arm and chased me all the way back down the jetty. I hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

I sat on Ty’s king–sized bed, laptop in front of me, clicking on every single video of the Debutante Dolls that YouTube had to offer. I read the comments from fans and… um… not–so–fans to determine what exactly was loved and loathed about them.

There were a lot of comments to sift through, and apparently there were some very strong opinions about Jessie’s nervous nail biting habit. I wasn’t sure I bought the correlation that was being drawn between her nail biting and the number of boyfriends she’d had, but who was I to say there wasn’t a link?

I visited their official site as well as fan sites and studied every song’s lyrics and each band member’s biographies to help me deduce what would make a really good – no – an outstanding Debutante Dolls song. I didn’t even notice when Ty entered the room after his evening gig, closing out day one of Bay Fest, until he threw his hoodie at my head.

“Have you even moved since I left?” he asked, emptying his pockets onto the sideboard.

I turned my gaze toward the open balcony doors, curtains billowing gently in the cool breeze. He was back already, day one done and dusted, and I’d been there long enough for a sunburn and not a second longer.

I sighed and stretched my shoulders with a groan. “Nope.”

“Man,” Ty said, pulling his shirt off as he disappeared into the walk–in robe. “How’s it coming?”

I suddenly realized it had been a good three hours. I’d spent three hours researching the band and not writing a single lyric. I had spent the last three hours coming up with nothing. Eighteen hours left.

“It’s coming, I replied, vagueness at its best as I tried to control my breathing and not hyperventilate.

There was a knock at the door and Ty poked his head out of the closet, one arm in a pale blue dress shirt.

“You look nice,” I said with a confused frown. He walked out of the room toward the door, buttoning up his shirt. Was he going out somewhere? Actually, that would be good if he was. Enough sitting around reading, I needed to write.

Something.

Anything. Anything would be good. Preferably a song.

I heard another knock on the door right before the sound of the handle being turned and the door opening.

Ty was silent for a second. “Oh, hey guys…” he said, sounding surprised.

Guys? Plural? There was some mumbling I couldn’t quite make out and then the sounds of a couple of pairs of footsteps on the carpet.

No. Noooo. I sat frozen in place on the bed. There could not be people hanging out right now. No impromptu parties. I needed to work. But this was Ty’s room. It’s not like I could kick them all out.

Shit.

“What’s going on?” Ty asked, the door finally closing.

“We’re going out.”

“To Ducky’s party, right?”

“Nah, man,” the voice said with a sigh. “Out.” It sounded like Gordo and he didn’t sound too happy about it.

“Not just yet you’re not. Is Poppy in there?” another voice asked.

I frowned, my forehead furrowed as I tried to place where I knew that voice from. It wasn’t Tommy or Seb and it definitely wasn’t Archie.

“…Yeah…” Ty said. Footsteps crossed the carpet, getting louder as they neared the bedroom. I considered hiding under the quilt.

Yet another voice, an unfamiliar one out in the lounge said, “Take a seat, boys. There’s something we need to discuss.”

A guy with short brown hair and several days’ beard growth walked into the room. Straight in, like he didn’t care if he would find me naked; he had something to say.

But Dex was like that. I’d only really met Academy of Lies’ manager a couple of times and though he could be intimidating at times, he was good for them. He got the job done. Didn’t mean his purposeful stride into the bedroom didn’t make me want to hide under the sheets, regardless that I was fully dressed.

“Poppy,” he said.

“Hi Dex…”

He nodded out toward the living room and moved to go back. “Come out here for a minute?”

I nodded, my head bobbling about like an idiot as I obediently slid off the bed and hurriedly followed him out of the room. I walked stiffly, my face flaming, feeling for all the world like I had been summoned to the principal’s office.

When we entered the lounge, I found Ty and Gordo sitting at opposite ends of the couch. Ty was leaning back, arms crossed, whereas Gordo was sitting forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, looking like he’d run over my guitar and didn’t want to tell me about it.

Dex walked over to a guy in a stiff blue-and-white checked shirt standing by the coffee table. I assumed he was The Himbos’ manager. He held an iPad to his chest, looking grim.

I raised my eyebrows at Ty questioningly, but he shook his head, seeming just as in the dark as I was.

“Take a seat,” Dex said, motioning me toward the couch.

I walked awkwardly over and sat down between Ty and Gordo. Gordo shifted uncomfortably. There was no reason this should have felt awkward (that I knew of), but it did. It really, really did.

What on earth was going on?

“We hate that we’ve got to play bad cop and all, but whatever’s going on with you guys has to end. Now,” the blue–and–white shirted guy said.

“What are you talking about, Kenny?” Ty asked.

“Look, I’m sure you all know there’s a bit of a free–for–all with the gossip sites going on right now that we don’t want. Especially not for The Himbos,” Dex said, glancing at Kenny. “Tonight, you boys and Poppy are going out in town. You’re going to laugh it up, you’re going to dance all stupid, you’re going to play pool and act like you’ve never been fucking happier in your lives, you hear me? You’re having the time of your life and hopefully all this shit will die down.”

“Whoa,” Ty said, shaking his head. “Dude, I have
no
idea what you’re talking about. What needs to die down?”

Meanwhile, I was trying to think of excuses so I could stay here and keep trying to write.

I’m such a bad person.

Kenny tapped the iPad a couple of times and handed it to Ty. Gordo and I leaned over to peer at the screen.

It was open to the
Hype
magazine landing page.

“Oh my God,” I said, my hand shooting to my mouth.

There it was, a somewhat grainy photo of me ducked low in the water and Gordo holding up his board shorts.

The headline was something about partner swapping and cheating or something; I didn’t take it in. Ty gaped at me and I immediately shifted in my seat and started punching Gordo on the shoulder.

“I knew it,” I said, “I told you, I
told
you! I knew this would happen!”

“Something you guys want to tell me?” Ty asked, the corner of his lips quivering as he tried not to laugh. “Dude, why are you naked?”

“Because I lost my bikini top and while everyone else was trying to chase it down, Gordo was standing guard.”

“By being naked too?”

“I was being chivalrous,” Gordo said, cringing.

“…By being
naked
?” Ty asked again, flat–out grinning with amusement now.

“By being an
idiot
,” I punched Gordo again.

“Okay,” Kenny said, grabbing one of my wrists and hauling me off the couch. He practically slingshot me into the armchair a couple of feet out of reach.

“And how did that result in you naked on a public beach, exactly?” Dex asked.

“Yeah,” Ty said with a laugh, “I’m sure it’s a great story.”

“I was trying to make her more comfortable. I thought if I was naked too…” Gordo trailed off as Kenny groaned and closed his eyes. “Fine; so maybe it wasn’t my best idea!”

Dex massaged the bridge of his nose. “You are such a moron.”

Gordo grimaced, but didn’t argue. If the shoe fits, as they say. And the shoe fit really well.

“You can’t pull shit like that, Gordon,” Kenny said, “not anymore. Especially not on a crowded beach full of families. What were you… forget it. I don’t care.”

“It’s fine,” Ty said, “It’ll blow over.”

“No – this looks bad, Ty,” Dex said. “You see that, right? This girlfriend of yours has been walking around the festival she’s supposed to be supporting
you
at, wearing
his
tee shirt.” He pointed at Gordo.

“I was sunburnt,” I said.

He ignored me. “There are photos of them
naked
on a public beach together.”

“The wave stole my bikini top,” I said.

“There are reporters and paps downstairs sending out stories about Gordo and Poppy being in his hotel room in a hotel full of journalists, flaunting their hook ups in your face.”

Ty looked at his lap, thoughtful.

“I was unconscious!” I shrieked.

Dex didn’t look impressed.

“And you,” Kenny said. Gordo flinched as we all turned our attention to him. “You boys are just starting out, getting on the mainstream radar, people are starting to know who you are and you’re giving the whole group of you a really bad reputation.”

“Don’t people love a bad boy?” Gordo asked with a hopeful smile.

“No,” Kenny said flatly. “Not when you’re breaking up pop’s golden couple.”

Golden couple? That was a bit extreme. “We’re not…and
he’s
not-”

Kenny didn’t turn from Gordo, but he pointed a finger at me and said, “Shut up.”

Eep.

“But it’s all bullshit,” Gordo said.

“Is it?” Kenny asked.

No one spoke. I couldn’t believe we were being asked this.

“I don’t want to do this,” Kenny continued. “It’s awkward as hell, I don’t even know this girl and I wish it wasn’t any of my business, but it is. It affects my business. I’m aware there should really be more tact involved in a question like this, but I’m just going to come out and say it.” Kenny turned to me and I stiffened, bracing for impact. “Poppy, are you sleeping with Gordo?”

I gasped and sputtered something nonsensical for a second. I felt sick. I couldn’t look at Ty, I couldn’t look at either of them. “This has all been a huge misunderstanding,” I said, “for real, there is not even remotely something going on, is there, Gordo?”

He shook his head. “No way.”

I braced myself and shifted my gaze to Ty, fingernails digging into the armrests. “You’ve gotta believe us.”

“We’re not going out tonight and pretending to have a good time,” Ty said. He held a fist out to Gordo who frowned, puzzled. A playful grin spread across Ty’s face and Gordo tentatively pounded knuckles with him. “We’re going to have an
epic
time.” He ruffled Gordo’s well–sprayed hair and Gordo didn’t even resist, just smiled.

“That’s right, isn’t it, Poppy?” Ty asked.

I forced a smile. “You bet.”

“I know you guys aren’t doing it. Come on.”

“Exactly.”

“I mean we just met last night,” Gordo said.

“So let’s do this,” Ty said. “Let’s go have fun and the gossip sites can kiss our asses.”

Guess there wasn’t going to be any writing time for me tonight, after all.