Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (15 page)

They are too, and we pretty much
collapse on the table from our shrieking.

“Oh my god, did you see their faces?
Parker was ready to throw up!” Eli snorts, slapping his hand on the surface.

I shake my head, wiping my eyes. “I
can’t believe you! They are going to beat the shit out of you!” I still can’t
breathe as I lean back in my chair. “Where’s their bus now?”

Sweeny can barely speak as he starts up
all over again. “I waited until I was sure one of them noticed then put it
back! It’s fucking in its spot!”

My eyes widen in disbelief, my stomach
in agony from the laughter. “And you just sent them running all over the
parking lot looking for it!”

He nods through his own tears, fighting
for air.

“You know what this means, don’t you?”
I warn, still chuckling after we finally gain control of ourselves.

They nod, but don’t seem to care.
“Yeah, we know. It’s on.”

I shake my head in amusement. “Oh, it’s
on.”

∞∞∞

I find Jesse messing around on his acoustic in their
dressing room and hold up my hands in a gesture of peace.

“Just stopping by to see how you’re
doing?” I explain, and he shakes his head with a grin.

“That was fucking genius. Totally
messed up, but genius.”

I laugh and drop to a chair nearby.
“You know they wouldn’t have done it if they didn’t consider you friends,
right?”

He nods, still smiling. “I know. They
really had us. I think Parker might need therapy.”

“He looked about ready to shit his
pants.”

“I think he might have a little.”

I study him and lean forward with a
mischievous look. “So what are you doing to get them back?”

He stares at me and seems confused.
“Wait, what?”

“Seriously?” I scoff. “You’re just
going to let them prank you like that and not retaliate?”

I can tell it hadn’t occurred to them
and have to hold in my snicker. I’m here to be helpful. “Ok, look, this is how
it works. They started it, so
yeah,
you have every
right to get them back. Just keep it funny and safe.”

I see his mind already working. “That’s
going to be hard to beat,” he observes.

“Yeah, but trust me, it’ll be worth it
when you do.” I start to rise, feeling a small sense of pride that he’s taking
it so well.

“Hey, Luke, wait. Before you go, can I
ask you something?” He quiets, and the mood suddenly shifts. “Um, it’s a little
personal.”

I return to my seat. “Sure, what is
it?”

He seems nervous, which is never a good
sign. “Well, I’m not exactly sure how to ask you this. It’s about those photos
of you from Charlotte.”

I stiffen. “What about them?” I
respond, somehow managing to sound casual even though my insides are exploding.

“Well, it’s just that, I’m from Philly.
You know that, and we’ve played pretty much all the local spots in the
tri-state area.”

I nod, my stomach churning. Oh no.
“Yeah?”

He looks away, clearly uncomfortable.
“I’m trying to figure out how you were in Club Castor in Atlantic City when we
were parked in Charlotte, North Carolina.”

He meets my gaze again, and I can tell
he’s not coming from a place of hostility.
He’s legitimately
confused by the photos, by me
.

I take a deep breath. Is this it? Dr.
Flynn wanted me to tell the truth to a friend. I never in a million years would
have thought Jesse Everett would be my first attempt at honesty, but here it
goes.
It kind of helps that the lie didn’t work on him.

“Ok, fine, the truth? It’s because I
wasn’t in Club Castor in Atlantic City while we were parked in Charlotte. I was
in Club Castor almost two years ago on our Bittersweet tour.”

I can’t tell if that cleared anything
up. He looks just as confused, if not more so.

“So the pictures are fake?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, they’re real.
They’re just two years old.”

“So your phone got hacked?”

I suck in my breath. Jesse might be a
genius. He’s just given me an out for the masses, but that doesn’t help me now.
My instinct is to accept the perfect lie, but I manage to catch it on my
tongue. Dr. Flynn would kill me if I screwed this up after having it
gift-wrapped and handed to me.

“Well, not exactly,” I begin. “It’s
complicated, but basically, I’m the one who leaked them,” I explain, and his
face looks about what you’d expect when you politely inform someone you’re a total
idiot. As the words slip out, it occurs to me that the lie is way more
plausible than the truth.

“Um…wow. Ok...”

I sigh. “I know, it’s totally messed
up, but you saw the shit they were saying about Callie and I figured if they
were talking about me, they’d leave her alone. It was stupid, but it kind of worked.”

He just stares at me for a moment, eyes
wide. “Shit, man. That is totally fucked up.”

I laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Don’t ever
do something like that. Totally stupid,” I warn. Yes, Jesse, don’t be a complete
moron who leaks your own social death sentence. Mentor of the Year right here.

“Got it. Still, you obviously haven’t
told anyone else. They’re all really upset.”

I look away. “Not yet, but I will. And
we’ll tell the rest of the world that my phone got hacked. Thanks for that.”

He smiles. “No problem. You should
probably hurry though because it’s going to come out soon that those pictures
aren’t legit. I mean, Club Castor, man? You could have picked a less obvious
spot.” He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s almost
like
you wanted to get caught.”

I shrug with a sheepish grin. He’s
probably right. I wouldn’t put anything past my subconscious at this point. “I
was pretty pissed about what was happening to Callie. Wasn’t exactly thinking
straight.”

“Well, I still think that’s totally messed
up, but kind of awesome in a way. Thanks for letting me know. I got your back.”

I start to warm
inside a bit.
I don’t hear that a lot, but I have to
admit it feels good. “Hey, thanks, Jess. And remember to think of a way to
return the favor to Eli and Sweeny,” I respond with a smile.

He grins. “Oh, don’t worry. We got
this.”

∞∞∞

I make the difficult phone call to TJ after leaving the Limelight
dressing room. The Label needs the truth,
well,
most
of it, and Jesse’s brilliance will give them much-needed direction for their PR
spin. They’ll like that part at least.

I leave Callie and her situation out of
the story. I don’t need them resenting her for something stupid I did,
something that she’d be just as upset about. TJ is shocked, then furious when I
tell him I signed my own death warrant for no apparent reason, but is at least
grateful I’m only guilty of being an idiot, not sliding down the cliff again.
He agrees the phone-hack defense could work and is going to call the Label next
to see what they can do to fix this mess.

I feel better when I hang up. Maybe the
truth is turning out to be an improvement over the lie after all. I glance down
at my phone and cringe at the string of texts and missed calls from Callie and
Casey. They’ve been trying to get ahold of me for a while now, but I just haven’t
been ready to face them. Maybe now I can. They need the truth too, probably
more than any of the others, but for some reason I’m finding that hurdle the
hardest. It went well with Jesse, ok with TJ, but I’m still not ready. I know I
haven’t totally fractured that relationship beyond repair yet, and I’m afraid
of messing up what’s left. I’m still skeptical of this honesty thing,
transparency. I need to test out the madness on one more
person,
one more trial in this messed up experiment.

Time to see what this Truth thing does
for the one relationship I’ve totally fucked up.

∞∞∞

I’m pretty sure she won’t see me if I give her a warning, so
I decide to surprise her with my unwelcome presence. I have to check several
locations and make a few inquiries before finally finding myself standing
outside of Holland’s dressing room. I still can’t believe I’m here, and the
only thing giving me the courage to knock is the fact that I have nothing left
to lose with her.

She seems irritated when she answers
the door, but no longer ready to scratch my eyes out, so I take some solace in
that.

“Luke, hi,” she says, obviously taken
aback.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I
respond, my stomach suddenly turning painfully at what’s about to happen. I’ve officially
punched my ticket into unknown territory, and I’m hit more than ever by the
fact that I have no clue how to do this.

“Um…I guess. Sure, come in.”

She waves me inside and closes the
door. I see her belongings organized in neat piles around the large space, and
smile that even her toiletries are confident and put-together. Her dressing
room is a museum compared to ours, which is just an explosion of our shit
dumped on the floor and tables.

I blink and take a deep
breath,
fully aware I’m just distracting myself. “Look, I
know I’ve screwed up a lot of things with you. You keep giving me chances and I
keep blowing it. I’m not here for another one, I just wanted to tell you one
thing and then I’m gone. It’s about the pictures.”

She stiffens and holds up her hand.
“Luke, that’s your business. I don’t want to know. What you do, who you party
with, has nothing to do with me.”

I feel every pinch of her statement.
I’m not even sure she was trying to cut me, but I realize right then how much
it hurts that I’ve lost her. “They were taken at Club Castor in Atlantic City.
Two years ago,” I explain quietly.

She stares at me. I can’t read her
face, but I’m not sure I even want to know what she’s thinking right now. The
silence is excruciating as her gaze bores into me, and I suddenly can’t stand
to be here anymore. I did what I came to do. I never promised I’d stay for the
fallout.

“Anyway, that’s all I came to say. I
wanted you to know the truth before it comes out. It will soon,” I mumble and
head toward the exit. The door seems so far all of a sudden, the air in the
room so thin and stagnant. I try to stay calm as I make my escape, but inside
my head is screaming. Laughing at me, cursing. Mocking this embarrassing
failure of a mission. I’ve just reached for the handle when she grabs my arm
and yanks me around.

I flinch at the fire blazing in her
eyes.

“Not good enough!” she hisses, shoving
me against the door. Her palm is on my chest, almost painful as she stiff-arms
me into submission to her wrath.

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“Stop! Just…stop! It’s my turn to talk
for once!” she cries, and I can only stare, eyes wide, as her long overdue fury
explodes on me.

“Why the hell are you here? You came
for what exactly? Huh?
To confuse me again with some
infuriating glimpse of honesty?
To clear your
conscience for a second, and then what?
What’s next, Luke? I let you
back in for five minutes until you get scared again? Push me away and leave that
huge gaping hole in your wake? God!”

She lets go and clasps her hands over
her head in distress as she steps back. “I can’t get you out of my head! Do you
know what that’s doing to me? I’m a confident woman. I control my life, myself.
I set my standards high because I can. Because I know I deserve that!”

She holds her fist over her heart. “I
don’t need a man to complete me, to give me value. I want one, but I don’t need
one. Sure, maybe one day I’ll find someone who will fit into the box I created
for my life, but it’s a measured choice, nothing more, nothing less.” She stops
and meets my gaze, almost angry. “And then you come along.”

There are tears in her eyes as she
stares at me. I can’t move, can’t breathe. “You with your drama and your lies
and your fucking eyes that haunt me and threaten everything I thought I
understood about what I wanted! You’re every reason I have my rules in place!
You’re everything I’ve fought to avoid for my life, every reason I should be
running in the opposite direction!”

She closes her eyes and draws in a deep
breath. I can see her visibly soften, change, and it guts me. “But that song,
Luke,” she whispers, daring to look at me again. “You put that song in me that
day at the snack bar and now I can’t get it out. In that brief moment, you
showed me what it’s like to transform from a connection with another person.
You’re the very reason I have my rules and yet make me want to break them every
second we’re together. I don’t know what to do anymore! I don’t know how to fix
it, how to make it stop and put things back to the way they’re supposed to be.
I don’t know how to forget the music now that it’s ingrained in my soul!”

“Holland…”