“As if I don’t already have one disappointed dad,” Ethan mumbles. Ethan doesn’t like to show how much it bothers him when Zeke gets harsh. But I know Zeke’s approach can push Ethan’s buttons.
I lie down on the couch, using Ethan’s lap as a pillow. Exhausted doesn’t even begin to describe me. We had so much adrenaline pumping after the show last night that we couldn’t sleep. We stayed up in Ethan’s room at the hotel until it got light out.
That’s being on tour. Staying up late. Always moving. Constant excitement. Now I get what Damien was saying about life on the road. How he loves the adventure. How he’s searching for a better way. How he won’t settle for anything less than what he’s determined to find.
It’s the last thought I have before falling asleep.
27
[11,498,092 FOLLOWERS]
Georgia is in love.
And she’ll do anything to make Kurt admit he loves her, too.
“He’s probably scared,” Georgia rationalizes. “Boys are all scared of commitment. It’s a documented fact.”
I’m not sure that’s why Kurt doesn’t want to be exclusive. Georgia shouldn’t have to convince him to be her boyfriend. She shouldn’t be waiting for him to say “I love you” three weeks after she said it. If someone truly loved you, wouldn’t they want to make sure you knew it?
“What are boys so afraid of?” Georgia says. “Sharing their feelings? Opening up to another person? Being vulnerable? Telling their secrets to someone else?”
“All of the above?” I say. I don’t say what I’m really thinking. Which is that Kurt seems to be afraid of being stuck with Georgia in case someone better comes along.
“You’re so lucky to have Ethan. He’s like the only mature boy I know.” Georgia looks around at the boys loping by our bench in the courtyard with disdain. School just ended. We watch boys going to their lockers and practice and activities. “Children. All of them.”
I wish there were some way to help Georgia. But when you’re in love, you can’t hear anyone who dares trying to convince you that your object of desire might not be worth your time.
“Should I give Kurt an ultimatum? Either he commits or it’s over?”
“An ultimatum probably isn’t the best way to start an official relationship.” I offer Georgia my pack of Chuckles. She shakes her head. “Wouldn’t it be better if he wants to commit?”
“He does want to. Deep down. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
I shove a yellow Chuckle in my mouth before I say something she doesn’t want to hear. Reyna and Miles come up to our bench.
“Hey, Sterling,” Reyna says. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” I haven’t really talked to Reyna or Miles since Ethan left school. We don’t even sit together at lunch anymore. “How are you guys?”
“Crazy busy,” Miles says. “I have no free time with basketball and AP Bio.”
“Ahem,” Reyna interjects.
“And with keeping this one happy.”
“You know it.”
“So yeah. Crazy busy.”
“I heard you went on part of Ethan’s tour,” Reyna tells me. “How was it?”
“Awesome.”
“How’s he doing? We haven’t heard from him in forever.”
“He’s good. Loving the tour. I told him to call you guys.”
“No worries,” Miles says. “I have a lot going on. It’s not like I’ve had time to catch up with him.”
“Tell him we said hey?” Reyna says.
“Of course.”
“See you around.”
I wonder how many other friends Ethan’s not talking to. I mean, I get it, his schedule is insane. But it’s not like him to lose touch with his friends. They were always so important to him before.
Kids ask me about Ethan all the time. People I don’t even know are constantly hounding me for information. And not just at school. Random people come up to me wherever I go. Or they stare at me and pretend they’re not. They pretend they don’t want to ask whatever they’re dying to know. The attention is fun. Socializing is my thing. It makes me feel special to be the only person in the world who knows Ethan as well as I do. The only person who can answer their questions. But sometimes it’s annoying. There are creepers and haters. People feel the need to tell me all about the music they’re working on. They ask if I could pass demos along to Ethan. As if he’s a producer. He’s trying to make it just like they are. Don’t they get that?
I can’t remember the last time someone talked to me without asking about Ethan.
“So what should I do?” Georgia asks.
“About what?”
“Um. Kurt? The boy we’ve been talking about this whole time? Well. Not this whole time.”
“Are you mad that they were asking about Ethan?”
“Why would I be mad? I was just trying to get advice from my best friend. Whatever.”
“Sorry about that. You know how it’s been.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Awkward silence.
“Do you still want my advice?” I ask.
Georgia nods.
“Don’t settle. The right boy for you will adore you. He’ll make it very clear how he feels about you. You won’t have to wonder if he wants to be your boyfriend. It will just happen naturally.”
“You don’t think Kurt is the right boy for me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah. You kind of did.” Georgia jumps up and grabs her bag. “I have to go.”
“No, wait. I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean—”
“Just forget it.” Georgia storms off.
Crap. I knew I was going to say something she didn’t want to hear.
I call Georgia later that night.
“Are you still mad at me?” I ask.
“I’m not mad. I’m . . . frustrated. I have a ton of homework and no motivation to do any of it.”
“Look. I’m sorry you’re going through all this drama with Kurt. I’m here if you want to talk about it some more.”
“I wanted to talk about it when you were sitting next to me. But I guess that was too much to ask.”
“I’m your best friend. I’m always here for you.”
“Except when you’re not.”
“You’re mad I went to see Ethan? That was—”
“No. It’s not . . . it doesn’t matter. I have to go.” Georgia hangs up before I can find out what’s wrong.
Things have been strained with us for a while. Sometimes it feels like our friendship is fading away. Which sucks because I don’t even know what I did wrong. And Georgia won’t tell me. I keep reaching out to her. But she keeps not wanting to talk.
I wish I knew how to fix this.
28
[12,032,750 FOLLOWERS]
The adrenaline rush of having gone on tour with Ethan has worn off. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. The weather isn’t helping. It’s cold and dreary out. Which, news flash, it’s the end of January. But it feels like winter will never end. Snow is blowing in sideways. The drab gray sky is more effective than a sleeping pill. All I want to do is take a big nap.
Except I can’t take a nap. The amount of homework my teachers slammed me with is absurd. Talking to Ethan will give me the jolt I need. But my call goes straight to voice mail.
Ethan is unavailable. Again.
I check Ethan’s fan page to see if he posted any updates today. Unlike with his friends, he’s awesome about staying in touch with his fans. Even when he’s super busy. There’s a new picture from the show in Portland two nights ago. There’s a post from Ethan asking Seattle if they’re ready for tonight. And there’s a new behind-the-scenes video from rehearsals. It already has 11,250 comments. I scroll through some of them, smiling at how much love Ethan’s fans have for him.
Then I see this:
Why is Ethan with Sterling anyway?? She’s not even that pretty.
Now I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck and t
hen slapped upside the head. Why would someone feel the need to post that?
Tears sting my eyes. Normally I’d brush off nasty comments. But I’ve been feeling extra sensitive about the way I look. Part of the reason Ethan is a rock star is that he looks like a rock star. Do I look like a rock star’s girlfriend? Not at all. Every time I see a picture of us in a magazine or on TV or online, I cringe at how lacking I am. Ethan could totally be with the most gorgeous movie star and they’d look like the perfect couple.
A message pops up on my screen. From Damien.
Corrected any good typos lately?
I’m taking a break. Too cold to notice. You?
No one schools a sign like you do. I’ll leave the improvements in your capable hands. What are you doing?
Drowning in a sea of misery.
Nasty comment online?
How did you know?
People are harsh. I really hate them sometimes.
I shouldn’t be so sensitive. I don’t know why I’m letting it bother me.
Feel like talking?
That’s okay. You must be busy.
On break. Call me at 305.555.0189.
The truth is, I’m dying to talk to someone. Georgia has been avoiding me. I try Ethan again and get his voice mail. So I call Damien.
He picks up on the first ring. “Hey.”
“Hey. Thanks for talking.”
“No problem. What did the dumbass say?”
“She said I’m not pretty enough to be with Ethan.”
“Not everyone has the gift of sight.”
“You’re sweet, but—”
“She obviously has impaired vision. Have you looked in the mirror? You’re a beautiful girl.”
Fortunately Damien can’t see me blushing over the phone.
“Want me to have the comment deleted?” he asks.
“We should leave it. Deleting it would just make her retaliate with something meaner. Like anyone has to remind me of how lacking I am. I know I’m not a celeb. I know I’m not perfect. Ethan could have any girl he wants. I’m already afraid he’s going to leave me for some supermodel. So why do people feel the need to remind me that he could do better?”
“First of all, you’re insane. You’re equating celebrity status with perfection. Do you have any idea how broken most of them are? The underlying reason they’re driven to chase fame is to compensate for everything missing in their lives. A lot is missing if they can’t be happy unless the whole world loves them.”
“But those girls are—”
“I’m not done.”
“Sorry.”
“Did you hear the part where I said you’re beautiful?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Because nasty comments like this one make me feel ugly. Because every time I see a picture of us together, all I can see are my flaws. Ethan looks like a rock star and I look like . . . a wannabe rock star’s girlfriend.”
“No, you are a rock star’s girlfriend. You’re the girlfriend of one of the hottest musicians in the world. If Ethan can have any girl he wants—which I don’t believe, by the way—and he chooses to be with you, what does that tell you?”
“That I’m lucky we were together before he got famous?”
“What makes you think he isn’t the lucky one? Are you even aware of how many guys would kill to be with you?”
I snort.
“Ever notice how the guys in the band look at you? They all want to be Ethan. They all want to be with you. You’re the icing on the cake.”
All I hear is the word cake. Now I want cake. Eating cake is my go-to remedy for alleviating depression.
“Trust me,” Damien says. “Ethan’s the lucky one.”
The way Damien says it, I almost believe him.
29
[12,419,007 FOLLOWERS]
Did I really just finish my last college application?
Yes. I totally just did.
This last app was for one of my safeties. My top three choices are Columbia, Princeton, and the University of Vermont, all of which have excellent English departments. My reluctance to take school seriously until recently will most likely prevent my acceptance to Columbia or Princeton. But the college advisor says that my chances are good for the University of Vermont.
The bell rings before I can fully appreciate the sensation of being done. It feels like I’ve been filling out forms and writing essays and gathering paperwork for years instead of three months. I make my way from the guidance office to class in a haze. The guidance counselor gave me the last letter I needed to include with my final app. I’ve done everything I possibly can to get into a good college. Now I just have to wait and see.
“Hey, Sterling!” One of the most popular seniors says hi to me in the hall every time she sees me now. She started being nice to me right after Ethan blew up. She hasn’t asked me for tickets or swag or anything. It’s more like she suddenly noticed I was a person.
I smile at her as we pass in the hall. Her friends beam radiant smiles back at me.
People are definitely treating me differently. I’ve always been a social person. I have lots of friends at school. But I’m getting way more attention now. Other kids are going out of their way to say hi to me. My teachers seem nicer. And it’s not only at school. People stop to ask me about Ethan everywhere. Even Gram’s friends drilled me about him when I dropped in on bingo night. Everyone in my yoga class watches me now. Their eyes are on me the second I get to the studio. I pretend not to notice as I set up my mat and fidget with my water bottle. But I secretly like the attention. What can I say? Classic extroverts like me are attention whores.
After school, I run home to work on my cooking video series. I’ve been trying to decide which ideas to use for my first video. I want to hook viewers right away so they come back for more. But what if they don’t think I’m interesting enough? What if I’m the only one who geeks out over culinary dorktasticness?
There’s an OXO strawberry huller I want to feature in the first video. I bought it a few days ago at Bed and Bath. At first I was worried that it’s really hard to find good strawberries in February. The hothouse ones generally look okay, but they taste like paper. Then I realized that no one has to eat them. I’m so used to cooking for people that I completely forgot I’d only be showing viewers how to prepare food, not serving it. The strawberry huller is a go.
Or not. There’s an excellent mac and cheese recipe I just found online. With the crumbly topping and everything. Who can resist three kinds of cheeses? And not just any cheeses. The secret to an exceptional mac and cheese (other than whisking the melted butter, flour, and milk correctly) is to use only the best cheese. You wouldn’t want to spend an hour preparing mac and cheese from scratch and then obliterate your time commitment by dumping in discount cheese. That would be a travesty.
People need to know this. I want to be the one to tell them.
There’s also my signature frappé recipe I’m dying to feature. And an au gratin dish I’ve perfected that’s to die. So much to share. So little time in a video that should be kept under five minutes if I have any hope of people watching it.
I know just who to call for a second opinion.
“Hey,” Damien answers. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I was wondering if you’ve realized that nasty comment was bogus.”
“Pretty much. I mean, it’s always going to hurt to read stuff like that. But I know I shouldn’t let the haters get to me.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“The terrorists cannot win.”
“Preach it, girl.”
“So I’m working on some video series development. I could really use your insight.” I tell Damien all about my ideas. “Which one do you think I should start with?”
“Hmm. If it were me, I would probably lead with the mac and cheese. A crowd pleaser is always a sure thing.”
“You’re right.
Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
I knew Damien would know the best way to begin. Now it’s up to me to get over my fear of more hater trauma. Telling Damien I shouldn’t let them bother me and getting to a place where they actually don’t bother me are two totally different things.
30
[12,723,554 FOLLOWERS]
Ethan is back home for two days. Then I’m flying to California with him to go to his Los Angeles show. We’re even getting some alone time. Which we haven’t had in forever.
I almost forgot what it feels like to be this happy.
Not even the screaming fans at this meet-and-greet can bring me down. Five fans won a contest to meet Ethan at a studio in New Haven before taping some promos for his upcoming appearance on Ellen. Each of them was allowed to bring a friend. Ethan is surrounded by ten trembling girls who look like they’re about to either faint, throw up, or burst out crying. Two of them have mati bracelets halfway up their arm. Three others are wearing Forever Tour concert tees.
“Do they have enough bracelets?” Georgia inquires about the mati girls. From where we’re sitting in these tall director’s chairs, we have a good view of everyone swarming Ethan in front of the stage. Georgia loves Ellen. Even though we’re not on set, she really wanted to be here. She’s counting it as being one degree from Ellen DeGeneres.
“Doubtful,” I say. “I can still see skin.”
“You’re right. Where’s the dedication?”
The girls are taking pictures with Ethan. He takes the time to connect with each one of them. He even tells the girls to check their pictures to make sure they came out okay. He retakes the ones that didn’t.