“Excuse me!” I yelled back. Across the room, Bendomolena was hiding underneath an armchair. I could see her tail swell up, the way it always did whenever she got scared. “Whose side are you on, anyway?! Mine or theirs?”
“What are you talking about?!”
“You know what I’m talking about! ‘Audrey, call RPM Records so we can go shopping! Audrey, do a reality show so I can get a bunch of free stuff! Hey, Audrey, wanna go backstage? All you have to do is tell them who you are!’ It’s all you talk about anymore—it’s all you seem interested in!”
“You’re mad because I like having fun?!” she screamed back. Victoria’s not really a screamer, but when she goes for it, she can make the heavens quake. “I’m trying to help you get through this because I’m a good fucking friend, but no! You just want to sulk and stay home and feel sorry for yourself!”
“Then what about that stupid car?” I yelled. “How was that helping me, exactly? It’s like you’re my friend only because of the free stuff!”
Oh my God, if Victoria could have, I think she would’ve punched a hole in our living room wall. “They sent that car because they wanted to,” she fumed. “Jesus, Audrey, when did you forget how to fucking enjoy yourself? Six months ago, you would’ve been all over that! We would have been going to concerts every single night! So sue me if I’m not sitting around in a dark hole somewhere, sulking about how much my life sucks because I’m famous! Just because you’re not having fun, Audrey, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t!”
“Every time I go outside, someone takes a picture! They hide in the bushes! Last week I had to go buy moisturizer and this week I read about it in three different magazines!”
“Who fucking cares?”
“I care, Victoria! Or does that not matter anymore? Does my opinion not even count?”
“Oh, no, it definitely counts. In fact, that’s all that counts!”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“News flash, Aud! You’re all you talk about anymore, and even then, all you do is complain! You’re a fucking whiner!”
“I’m not a whiner, I just—”
Victoria was reaching for her bag and yanking on the pink-and-red-striped ballet slippers that I loaned her ten dollars for two years ago. “You are so fucking ungrateful,” she swore as she worked. “I swear to God, you get opportunities thrown at you just for breaking up with your boyfriend, and all you do is complain and whine and mope. Well, excuse me for trying to make sure that the world knows how awesome my best friend is! Excuse me for wanting people to get to know you so they won’t say shitty things about you anymore! Maybe what everyone’s saying at school is true! Maybe you really are just becoming stuck-up!”
“They are not saying that,” I said. Tears were in my eyes and blurring my vision so bad that it looked like two furious Victorias were in front of me.
“They are,” she shot back. “But you know what I think is so fucking funny? You’re turning into the guy you broke up with! It’s all about you, all the time, and you don’t care about anything else.”
I felt like she had slapped me. No one’s ever slapped me before, but it couldn’t hurt as much as what she had just said.
“You don’t talk to anyone!” Victoria continued as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “You never ask me how I’m doing, or how Jonah is! Every time we’re together, you don’t want to do anything! All you do is hang out with James and you probably spend most of your time with him complaining, too!”
“Just get out!” I told her. “Go home! Call Jonah to come and get you!”
“I’m fucking walking,” she spat. Her eyes were shiny and wet, too. “And I really liked that video!”
I stormed over and yanked open the front door, refusing to look at her as she walked out. As soon as she was gone, I slammed it shut and stalked upstairs to my room, where I slammed my bedroom door two times in a row just because it felt good. Then I went to my computer, ready to put together the angriest mix CD I’ve ever made in my life, something with lots of screaming and rage. But just then the cordless phone rang and I snatched it up and answered it without even glancing at the caller ID. It was Victoria, I knew it. She and I had never fought like this before and there was no way it could last more than five minutes. She’d apologize and then we’d do all of our girly crying and hug and it would be okay.
It had to be okay.
“Victoria?” I answered. My voice was shaking as bad as my hands.
“Um, Audrey?”
I frowned. So not Victoria. “Yeah?”
“Aud, it’s me.”
It took three seconds for me to place the voice, but when I did, it was like I had never stopped hearing it.
“Oh,” I said. “Evan. Hi.”
35 “‘I’m sorry’ won’t cut it for the rest of your life.…”
—Valencia, “Away We Go”
I HAD FANTASIZED for months about what I would say to Evan if we got a chance to talk again. I had planned the perfect sentence, the perfect words, the perfect half-annoyed, half-bored voice to say that sentence in.
So of course, he finally calls and what happens?
I sneeze.
Loudly.
“Bless you,” he said.
“Thanks,” I replied. “So what the fuck were you thinking?”
“Okay,” he sighed. “Look, I’m not calling to fight with you, Aud, all right?”
“Fine, we don’t have to fight. We never did fight, in case you forgot. I just want you to answer that question. What were you thinking?”
“I was mad, okay? I was mad at you that night. I didn’t think that all of this was gonna happen because of that one song!”
“Do you even know what’s happened to me?” I demanded. “Do you even know what’s been going on?”
“Um, people tell me things. I don’t know, we’ve been on tour in Japan and—”
“Well, I’ve been on tour in hell! I have to spend all day at school in the office because otherwise too many people ask me for autographs. Bendomolena’s a nervous wreck because so many carolers, aka fans in disguise, rang the doorbell during Christmas. I think every third person on the Internet has called me a slut or hacked into my phone—”
“Yeah, I tried to email you but it just bounced—”
“I’ve got the paparazzi all up in my face every time I step outside! And that video! I just saw it! Victoria and I just got into a huge fight because of that stupid—”
“You and Victoria had a fight?”
I was momentarily derailed. “Yeah,” I admitted.
“Wow. You guys never fight.”
“Yeah, well, things are different right now.” I picked at the split ends in my hair. “She wants me to do more interviews and I don’t want to.” I sighed heavily and let my hair fall back down. “God, Evan, why’d you do this?”
“Aud, I’m sorry, okay? I am. I’m really sorry. I didn’t know that it would get so crazy. But my life’s insane, too, you know. I haven’t been home since September.”
“Liar. You just played the holiday concert.”
“No, I mean, like home home. I saw my mom for like ten minutes that night.”
“Oh, please. Like Justin said to Britney, cry me a river.”
“Aud? Do you really think you’re the only one whose life got turned all fuckin’ upside down?”
Well. That comment shut me up for a minute, long enough for Evan to keep talking. “I mean, it’s been so awesome, everything that’s happened, and I’m grateful and all, but sometimes…I’m just tired. It’s not the same. It’s different.”
“Different like how?” Try as I might, I couldn’t help but feel a teensy bit sympathetic, if only because he sounded so tired.
“I don’t know. Just…different.”
Good Lord. Sentences like that one were Reason Number Twenty-four that we broke up in the first place. “Good insight, Evan. It’s all clear now.”
He laughed, that weird little giggle of his. “I miss you calli
ng me on my shit, you know that?”
“I miss calling you on your shit, too.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. Then there was a pause before he asked, “Are you really dating that guy from the Scooper Dooper? Or is that just a rumor?”
“Oh, do you mean that guy that you totally just humiliated in your video? That guy? James?”
“Yeah, James. You’re really dating him? ‘Cause I saw this picture in People on the plane back from Osaka and—”
“Everyone saw that picture. And yes. We’re dating.”
“Do you love him?”
“Evan,” I said carefully, “with all due respect, that’s none of your business.”
“Right. Okay. Sorry.” His voice was heavy and I wondered how bad I should feel for him.
There was silence between us for a minute and I rubbed my forehead, suddenly exhausted. It wasn’t even four thirty yet. “God, Ev,” I sighed. “It’s been almost eight months. It’s been over four since the song came out. Why are you calling now? What do you want?”
“I want you to come to New York.”
I don’t know what answer I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Excuse me?”
“I want you to come to New York. We’re doing a live set at MTV and I want you to be there.”
“No way. Absolutely not. You are out of your mi—”
“It’s in front of an audience, two hundred people, in-studio, live on-camera interviews, three songs performed by the band.” He was reading the information off a piece of paper, I could tell. “They want to interview you, too.”
“No.”
“They’ll fly you out, Audrey. Cars to and from the hotel. Security if you need it. But they really, really want you to come.”
“Why?” I was beyond skeptical.
“Well, I mean…if we make up on camera, it’ll be huge for ratings. That’s basically what they said.”
“Who’s ‘they’? The Big Bad MTV Executives?”
“No, it’s…well, it’s everyone. And me too. I’d like it if you were there.”
“For the ratings?”
“No! No, just…it’d be nice to see a familiar face, you know?”
I did know. I remembered not wanting Victoria to leave the bathroom the day after my first date with James, just wanting to see something that was comfortable. Just thinking about Victoria put a lump in my throat, and I had to swallow hard.
“Aud?”
“I’m here.”
“So…? What do you think?”
“I don’t know.”
Holy shit. Was that really what I just said? What was I thinking? I had spent months trying to avoid the cameras and now I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go face them willingly?
But it was live TV. On live TV, I couldn’t be misquoted. I could speak for myself without a reporter twisting my words, or worse, making up words entirely. For the first time, people could see who I really was, that I wasn’t a terrible girlfriend or a cheating slut or whatever else they were calling me.
For the first time since I heard “Audrey, Wait!” there appeared to be a glimmer of hope.
“Aud?” he said again. “You there?”
“No, I’m just…I’m thinking, Evan. I have to think, okay?” But my mind had gone past thinking and was way into overdrive. “When do they want to do this?”
“It’s happening this Saturday.”
“This Saturday?”
“Yeah. And your mom or dad has to come with you, since you’re not eighteen yet.”
“Can I tell you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I could hear someone talking in the background, and then Evan covered the phone with his hand and said something like, “She says she’ll tell us tomorrow.” Then he came back. “Yeah, tomorrow’s okay.”
“Who was that?”
“Uh, Susan? She’s our press agent from the label.”
“Is she the same press agent who set me up with that L.A. Weekly interview? If I come out there, I want to meet her first.”
“Uh, sure, okay. Aud?”
“Yeah?”
“I…I miss you. Not like, you know, not like I want to start dating again ‘cause I know you’re with James and everything, but…I just miss all of us fools hanging out.”
I rested my head against the cool edge of my desk and struggled not to cry. Between this and Victoria, I wasn’t ready to be nostalgic. “I miss you too,” I whispered. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m not sorry we broke up, but I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I’m sorry too. I know I did a bunch of shit wrong.”
I wiped quickly at a tear and laughed a little. “Do you realize this is the most in-depth conversation we’ve ever had?”
“Yeah, I know, right?” Evan laughed too. “Ironic.”
“Way ironic.” I dabbed at my eyes one last time. “Okay. I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, but what number?”
“This one. Here, just in case it came up weird on your phone.” He read off the digits and I scribbled them onto a Hello Kitty notepad. “I really hope you come, Aud,” he said. “I’m psyched to see you again.”
“Yeah,” I said with noticeably less enthusiasm. “Psyched. Me, too.”
36 “Perhaps, at last, the song you sing will have meaning.…”
—Guided by Voices, “Fair Touching”
I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. I absolutely did not know what to do. And worse, I had no one to talk to about it, either. Victoria and I still hadn’t talked, and I was half too scared and half too mad to call and tell her. It was the longest we had not talked since she got laryngitis in the seventh grade.
I had IM’d with James that night, but I didn’t tell him about my fight with Victoria or Evan’s proposal, either. He was too mad about the video.
BoysDontCry: worst
BoysDontCry: video
BoysDontCry: ever
JustaGirl: I know
JustaGirl: sorry
BoysDontCry: pierce tivo’d it
BoysDontCry: I want 2 kill him
JustaGirl: evan or pierce?
BoysDontCry: both
BoysDontCry: how r u?
JustaGirl: :/
BoysDontCry: not me im >: (
JustaGirl: got 2 go, dinner
JustaGirl: talk l8r? <333
But the truth was, I wasn’t hungry and I hadn’t been summoned to eat downstairs. I just needed more time to figure out things in my head before I talked to James about it, especially now that his likeness was going to be in heavy rotation on every music channel, not to mention every single fan website and blog.
I tried going to bed early that night, thinking that a good night’s sleep would clear my head and fix the problem and when I woke up, I would magically know what to do.
So when the clock hit midnight and I had tossed and turned for the eleven millionth time and all the sheets had come untucked, I chucked that plan out the window.
Even without all the hubbub, though, I wouldn’t have been able to sleep, thanks to Bendomolena’s snoring. She can really get loud if she falls asleep on her back, and Victoria and I once spent a whole Saturday trying to mic her so I could make her snore my new ringtone. It never worked, but it had been fun.
Fuck this, I thought. I’m getting up.
I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep, it turned out. My dad was downstairs watching the History Channel (or, as I like to call it, the War Channel) and eating some sort of cookie. “Mom’s gonna kill you if she sees you,” I said when I saw him.
He didn’t look too threatened. “I thought you went to bed early.”
I shrugged. “Bendomolena’s snoring.”
“Well, here’s a bribe so you don’t tell your mother,” he said, handing me a box of cookies. Thin Mints, still cold from the freezer.
“Where have you been stockpiling these?” I said. “I didn’t see them.”
He wiggled his eyebrows and scooted over on the couch. “I’ll never tell. C’mon, sit.”
I sa
t.
After about ten minutes of watching one siege after another, I licked the remaining chocolate off my fingers. “Evan called me today,” I said casually, trying to get a feel for the situation. My dad’s pretty cool, I’ll admit, and we talk, but we don’t really…talk.
“Oh, yeah?” His eyes didn’t leave the screen, but he turned down the volume a bit. “What’d he want?”
“Um, just to say hi. And that he wants me to come to New York to be on live TV with him and the rest of the band next Saturday.”
Apparently that sentence trumped the Battle of Whatever, because my dad turned the volume down some more. “Oh, yeah?” he said again.
“Yeah. And there was this video today, too, of The Song, and it came out.…” And the next thing I knew, I was telling my dad about the video and the fight with Victoria, too, and how I hadn’t told James anything about Evan calling or his offer, and my dad was listening and nodding while cannons kept exploding on the screen in front of us. (Not an inappropriate backdrop for the conversation, I had to admit.)
“So I don’t know what to do,” I finished, raising and dropping my hands in my lap. “I want to tell James but I don’t, and I want to go to New York, but I don’t.”
“Wow,” my dad said. I was really thankful he was taking such a laid-back approach to this. If it had been my mom, she would’ve been all momlike and sympathetic, which would’ve probably made me cry. With my dad, though, it was all business.
“It sounds like you need to make some decisions,” he continued.
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“So make them.” He ate another cookie and glanced down at me. “C’mon, Aud, since when have you been a spectator?”
“Since I knocked myself unconscious on the balance beam when I was six.”
“You know what I mean.”
I did know. I had been hiding out and shutting up while everyone else talked about me. “So you think I should go to New York?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You think I should stay here?”