Stay With Me (23 page)

“Is it true?” Caleb asks angrily, but I can’t tell if he’s angry at me or at the TV.

I’m devastated, and I glance down at my hands. My heart is breaking as I try to formulate a response. I knew he’d hate me. I knew everyone would hate me once the truth came out. I can’t even look up at him—can’t see the hate in his eyes, the disgust he must be feeling.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes. It’s all true.”

A long silence descends upon the room.

“You should leave,” I say weakly. My voice raises ever so slightly as the anger builds inside me. “Go. Get out of here.”

“Hailey.” His tone is placating, and it drives me nuts.

“Leave!” I shout, standing up. “You know the truth about me now. Why would you want to stay? I’m worthless. I’m shameful.”

“Do I really?” he asks. “I don’t know the truth from your point. Stop pushing me away from you, Hailey.”

“It is the truth. What more do you want from me?”

What’s the point? It doesn’t matter anymore. With how he’s looking at me, it’s clear he’s disgusted by me. That he hates me.

And it breaks my heart all over again, and there is nothing I can do about it.

“Hailey, just talk to me.”

“Why?” I ask. “Why? So you can hear it again? You heard what my mother said. You
believe
her.”

“You said it was true.” He looks at me, his expression asking me to explain . . . to trust him.

I did. “It is.”

“So talk to me. Tell me. Stop hiding things from me.
Trust me.
”

“How can I trust you?” I wrap my arms around my middle, hugging myself tight, suddenly feeling ill with the revelation my mother gave to the world. “I can’t even trust my own mother.”

Oh God, my voice is so small now, on the verge of tears. I really don’t want Caleb to see my breakdown. I don’t want him to judge me or hate me.

“You know me,” he says, approaching me slowly and I back away, bumping into the chair behind me. “I’ve
always
been here for you. Trust in me, Hailey. Trust in us.”

I go very still.

Caleb takes another small step toward me. “Hailey. I’m not running from you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving.”

“You say that now but—”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He takes another step, his hands reaching out to me. Asking me to hold onto him, to trust him. I’m scared. So scared. I know it’s stupid, but that’s how I feel.

“I love you.”

My world stops.

“I love you,” he says again.

The words crash into me, and I blink rapidly. I shake my head. It’s not possible. It can’t be true. It can’t. After what he’s just found out? There’s no way he can love me.

“You don’t mean that,” I say, my voice sounds like it’s been scraped raw by broken glass.

“I do.” Another step. “I. Love. You. All of you. The awesome. The good. The bad. The ugly.”

I don’t dare start to get my hopes up.

“And, I don’t know how many times I have to say this.” Caleb takes the final step, reaching me. “But you are not alone.”

He grabs my hands and doesn’t let go.

“So,” he says, “Talk to me. Tell me. I don’t hate you. How can I hate you when you’re in my heart? My heart beats for you.”

I press my mouth together. And I decide to trust in him. In us.

“It’s all true. All of it. I had an abortion. I slept with a married producer.”

“Hailey. I know you. Tell me the whole story.”

“I—” My voice catches. “I swear I didn’t know he was married. He was ten years older than me. He said he loved me. He said he was single.” The words tumble out of me. Now that I’ve started talking, I can’t stop. “I don’t do that, Caleb. I’m not that kind of person.”

“I know. How old were you, Hailey?”

“Fifteen.”

He rocks back on his feet. “Fifteen. And he was twenty-five? That’s illegal. Statutory rape.”

“Not in Hollywood. I know that’s wrong and all, but that’s how it is. Lots of young kids, like me, were having sex with older people. To get roles.” My eyes go wide with what I just said, and I hastily continue: “I didn’t do it to get a role. I actually thought I was in love. I was . . . stupid.”

“You were young.”

“And I got pregnant. I was so scared, but I didn’t want to have a baby.” I dare to glance up at him. “I wasn’t ready. Was I supposed to have a baby I didn’t want?”

“No.”

“But everyone is going to hate me,” I say. “I’ve kept it a secret for so long. I hate myself. I can’t believe my mother and what she did.”

“Hailey. Your mother is something else.”

“I’m done with her,” I say hotly. “She was out of my life before, but she’s dead to me now. I will never talk to her for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t have to,” he says. “You have me.”

And then he wraps his arms around me, hugging tight. His loving embrace envelopes me, and I hold onto him, not wanting to let go. I feel safe, cherished, and protected.

Caleb is here for me—at one of the worst moments in my life.

“I thought you would hate me. That you would be mad at me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he says, pulling back just enough so his eyes meet mine. “And I’m mad at your mom and the producer. They were older and knew better; they should have looked out for
your
best interest.”

I bury my face in his shirt as tears escape. My shoulders heave with my silent sobs. I can’t even speak, as I stand there, crying.

He rubs a hand down my back, the touch soothing and comforting. “Hailey. You have so many more people who care about you. Who want the best for you. Who love you. My family. Daphne. The guys.”

Caleb anchors me. He’s my rock. And, slowly, my demons start to ebb away.

He tilts my head up and wipes my face with one hand. And then he hugs me closer to him.

“You’re not alone,” he says.

And for the first time in my life, I believe that to be true.

N
OTHING MAKES YOU MORE FAMOUS
than a scandal. I start getting calls from my former publicist and my former agent, both saying they’ve received requests for interviews, and that I could always re-sign with them. No way is that happening. I’m going to have to change my cell number. Again.

And then I get another call and take it in the other room. Caleb is still with me, and Daphne rushed over after the story aired. To say Daphne is pissed off is putting it lightly.

“Hey, Alex. I can’t talk that long. People are here.”

“Who else is there?”

“My boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend? God, Hailey, you know the boyfriends have to pass the test run by me.”

“And my best friend, Daphne.”

“Guess that was bound to happen,” Alex says.

“Stop being an idiot,” I say. “We still have to talk things through. But thank you, Alex, for the head’s up.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I know we have to work on things, but that’s actually not why I’m calling. I just got done with my interview. Did you see it?”

“Um, no. We turned the TV off during my mother’s interview. Why?”

“Oh. You missed it then.” Alex makes an impatient, frustrated sound. “Hailey, you know better than anyone to leave before the final act.”

“Alex, what do you mean?”

“I went on air right after your mother. Her face turned white when she saw me, and then I talked to the journalist. And then I gave another exclusive.”

“Alex?”

“I told them I was an addict and going into rehab. All true, I’m afraid.” Alex pauses. “One scandal will make another disappear. And, I’m sorry to say, Hailey, but I’m way more famous than you are at this point.”

“Alex,” I breathe out. “Are you really going into rehab?”

“Yes. It’s time I got myself clean. You—you’ve inspired me to become better. Made me see change was possible.”

“Alex, do you need anything?”

“I just want my best friend back. And to get healthy.”

“I’ll be here for you, Alex.”

“Same.”

I hang up the phone and although I know what my mother said will still be news, I’m not facing it alone.

Not anymore.

Chapter 28

I
T’S STILL WEIRD, THOUGH, GOING
back to class, wondering how many students saw the show. Even if they didn’t, it’s been tweeted, Facebooked, and showcased on every other online setup.

Before, I was a little more insulated in Hollywood. I knew gossip was happening and would see the stuff written about myself, but I was in the same crowd of other actors, actresses, models, singers, all of whom had experience with this, too. But, here, in Green College, it’s like, I’m out in the open.

And I’m very conscious of the fact that people might be talking about
me
and wondering how true it is, or telling one another about what my mother revealed. I mean, I know that happened before, but it’s still odd that a secret I’ve kept so long—one I was deeply ashamed about—is no longer a secret.

I don’t wish it had come out like it had. I would have preferred for the secret to be only known by a close few—those I trusted. But my mother thought otherwise. And while it might be because I cut off her funds, she still had no right to do what she’s done.

But Caleb knows now. And I’m still not sure how I feel about that. I think I would have preferred to be the one to tell him. Daphne would have been different to tell; I think another woman can feel the disappointment you feel and understand you on a level most men can’t. And everyone else—I just wished they hadn’t found out, but there is nothing I can do about it now.

I thought it would ruin things between Caleb and me, that he would hate me. Even if he was pro-choice, he still might not have liked that his girlfriend had an abortion in her past. He might hate me because I slept—albeit unknowingly—with a married man.

I’m still surprised Caleb doesn’t hate me. He
loves
me.

Loves.

I can’t get over that, either.

I never expected to find love in my year of finding myself. I’d all but sworn off men—until he walked into my life.

Caleb is there for me, and I’ve never had that in my life. Not with a man who’s so steady, so confident, and so loyal. And for once, I know I can trust him completely and that he’ll never let me know.

People come and go. My mother used me for her own purposes. My former best friend ditched me when I went to college—although now I’m hopeful Alex and I can begin to repair our friendship. We might not have what we once had, but hopefully we can build a friendship that is stronger—first he has to take care of himself.

For the longest time, I was alone. I relied on myself, and it’s still hard for me to trust in others, to believe that they won’t leave me at some point, or not want me because I don’t serve a purpose in their life.

But I have to try. I don’t want to hold myself back anymore.

The worst thing I thought could happen actually happened.

And I’m still here. I’m still standing.

Breathing.

Living.

And continuing on.

I’m not going to give any interviews. I’m not going to give “my side” of the story. I’m not going to try and clear my name, to explain what I did. Because it happened. It’s part of me, and no amount of explanation will be good enough for some people.

Some people will hate me. They’ll burn my records. Throw away my movies. Not want to have anything to do with me as long as I live.

And that’s fine.

Because I know who I have in my life that I can trust implicitly, and that’s worth more to me than the shame surrounding the scandal my mother caused. And I don’t need approval from the masses to be who I want to be—I don’t need to step in the spotlight and satisfy anyone but myself.

And I’m not going to contact my mother. She made her choice. And she’s out of my life.

It hurts, because she is my mother, but there’s no way I want her in my life—not when she proves time and time again that I’m just a means to keep her famous. Let her write her tell all. Let her come out with all the stories she has. She’s said the worst about me.

And the best thing I’m going to do is move forward.

But first I have to take this Spanish pop quiz.

Professor Marquessa, my Spanish professor, hands out the tests.

And I focus on what matters to me.

M
UCH LATER, DAPHNE IS OVER
at my place and we’re doing work together. She’s helping me out with yet another English paper due next week. And she stops mid-sentence, brushing her long chestnut hair off her face.

“You know, Hailey,” she says, “I think we need to do something fun.”

“We just had a whole lot of fun over Thanksgiving.”

Daphne waves her hand about. “That was family stuff. And then you were making googly googly eyes at my brother.”

“I was not.”

She just gives me a look.

“Okay. I totally was.” I chew on the end of my pen. “But you were making some googly googly eyes at a certain someone at lunch today.”

“I had a piece of onion in my salad. It made my eyes water.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever. But I’m talking you and me. Girls’ Night out. Absolutely no boys.”

I look up at her, a wry smile playing on my lips. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, there’s a place down the street. We can get prettified with our toes and nails.”

I look toward the window. “In case you haven’t noticed it’s snowing.”

“Our feet shouldn’t suffer!” Daphne chucks a pillow at me, hitting my shoulder. “And then we’ll stop at Al’s French Frys.”

“Al’s French Frys?”

“You haven’t been to Al’s French Frys yet? It’s practically an institution here. Delicious hamburgers. Greasy fries that you dip in vinegar.”

I make a face. “Vinegar?”

“You’ll totally love it. Trust me.”

“And then we’ll watch a ton of movies. Girlie movies. Guys in hot cravats, and the girls in corsets who love them.”

“If this involves a wet Colin Firth coming out of a pool, I’m so there.”

“Without question. We’ll have a Darcy off. Firth versus Macfadyen. Which Darcy will remain supreme?”

“Please.” I scoff. “Firth. Hands down.”

“Macfadyen is pretty sexy.” Daphne smiles. “And we have others, too. The sexy, sexy
Firelight
—and, yes, I totally love that film, just for the sex scenes. Holy hotness is all I’m going to say.”