Ms. Jones swept into the room, and Wylder shot out of her chair, tugging her sweater back onto her shoulder.
“Miss Anderson, shouldn’t you be in class?” She marched across the room to her office.
“Yes ma’am.” Wylder followed her, pulling at the waist of her skinny jeans. “I needed to talk to you about something.”
“How is Logan doing today? I heard about the game a few nights ago, and breakfast this morning.” Ms. Jones dropped her mail onto her desk and looked up. “What are you wearing?” She stared at Wylder.
Wylder glanced down at her dark skinny jeans, boots, black tank, and gray sweater. “Clothes.” She squirmed uncomfortably.
“You look nice.”
“Er… thanks?”
“You normally look like you’ve just rolled out of bed. This is a nice change. Is that lip-gloss?”
“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” Wylder blushed. She didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard.
“Logan?” Ms. Jones asked again.
“Not good.” Wylder sighed. “That’s why I’m here.” She moved to sit in front of the headmistress’s desk. “He’s putting up a brave front, but I think he could use a break.”
“I’ve offered to have him move into his brother’s townhouse, so he can have some privacy.”
“He won’t do it.” Wylder shook her head. “He has friends in the dorms, so he’ll be okay there.”
“What kind of break do you suggest then?”
“Dinner,” Wylder blurted.
“Like a… Miss Anderson, are you asking permission to take Logan off campus for a date?” She glanced at Wylder’s nice clothes.
“What? No!” Wylder flushed red. “A family dinner. At my house. He lost his parents when he was twelve, so I thought a sort of normal night off and away from campus might help with the stress of his situation.”
“So you want me to give you both permission to leave campus?” Ms. Jones stood with her hands on her hips.
“Um, yes. Tonight, if possible?” Wylder twisted her hands in her lap. “You know my dad is a great dad. He’s a lot like Becks… in the good ways. My dad and stepmom are used to helping Becks and his friends with their problems, and I’m sure they’d do the same for Logan. You know, parental advice and all—not that Seb—er, Mr. Cook isn’t a great guardian.”
Ms. Jones moved to the front of her desk to lean against it and gave Wylder an incredulous look. “What I don’t get is why you’re asking for permission when you’ve never bothered before? You sneak off this campus whenever you like, and you take your friends with you. What’s changed? I’m confused.”
“Um… I guess I’m trying something different.”
“Different?”
“Yeah. Trying to do better. Er… Make better decisions.”
Ms. Jones tried to hide her smile behind a delicate cough, but Wylder caught her smirk.
“I like these changes in you, Wylder.” She nodded, reaching back on her desk for her pad of blank gate passes. “I like your new hair and your new look. And I also happen to think your idea for Logan and a family dinner is a great one.” She scribbled notes on the pad and signed her name. “Be back before curfew.”
Wylder stood, not quite believing the headmistress went for it. “I will… we will, thank you.”
“I’m calling your parents in one hour to arrange transportation and get their permission for this evening.”
“I’ll let them know to expect your call.”
“You will also need to get Mr. Cook’s signature on that gate pass so you’d better hurry, first period is almost over.”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you.” Wylder grabbed her messenger bag from the floor and stuffed the gate pass into her pocket.
“And Wylder… you’re a good friend. I hope Logan realizes that.”
Wylder smiled, thinking of his kiss—both of them. “He knows. Thanks, Ms. Jones.” Wylder darted back into the hall, fishing her phone out of her pocket to call her dad.
“Anderson Hardware,” her stepmom answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Mom, get Dad on the phone too.” Wylder charged through the double doors, stepping out into the bright sunshine of the crisp morning.
“Oh dear, what’s happened now?” Her mom sounded worried.
“Nothing, I just have a favor.”
“She has a favor,” her mom repeated as her dad joined them on the line.
“What’s wrong, hon?” her dad mimicked the worried tone.
“Nothing. Why do you both assume something’s wrong?”
“You want to take that or should I?” her dad asked.
“You’re not funny, Dad.”
“What can we do for you, honey?” Her mom shushed her dad.
“Steak club.” Wylder rolled her eyes at the request. “I know it’s Becks’ thing, but I have a friend that could use a good night of steak club. Can I bring him over tonight? The headmistress gave us permission. She’s going to call you in about an hour to confirm.”
“Him?” She could practically hear her dad frown.
“Hush, dear. Of course, you can bring your friend over. Is there something we can help with?”
“He’s having a hard time right now. Um… Google Logan and Luke Cook, and you’ll see what he’s dealing with.”
“Luke Cook? Isn’t that the boy hanging all over your bedroom walls here?” Her dad asked.
“Oh, crap! You have to take those down. Mom, please make sure there’s no trace of my Luke phase anywhere in the house.”
“Of course, honey. Is this his brother? The one you sang with in that video.”
“Twin brother.”
“I see. I’ll come pick you up around six, after the store closes.”
“Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”
“You like this boy?” Her dad asked in a gruff tone.
“I do, and you’d better not embarrass me, Dad.”
“Of course not, I wouldn’t dream of it. See you tonight, honey.”
15
“If you’re lucky enough to land in the spotlight in the music industry, odds are you’ll be interviewed at some point in your illustrious careers.” Mrs. Shepherd paced the front of the classroom. “And more often than not, you’ll be put on the spot during an interview. I’ve never managed a musician who didn’t bomb an interview at least once, so today we’re going to do a little exercise.”
Wylder scribbled a note on the corner of her notebook and passed it to Logan.
Dinner at my house tonight? It’s headmistress and Bash approved.
She’d had to do some arm twisting to convince Bash it was in Logan’s best interest that they take a night off campus. She thought he might have been jealous at first, but as he signed the gate pass, she realized he was just worried about his brother.
What’s the occasion?
Logan passed the notebook back to her.
Nothing special, just dinner with the fam and thought you might like to get out of here for a little while.
Sure, sounds great. Thanks.
“We’ll be doing a little improv today.” Mrs. Shepherd pulled two stools to the front of the class. “One of you will play the star, and the other will play the journalist.”
Wylder felt Logan’s tension beside her. He hated this kind of thing. Anything that required standing up in front of a group of people, no matter how big or small sent him into a stress-induced spiral.
Already, he was tapping his pencil on the edge of the desk.
“I’ll ask the questions,” Wylder murmured. “Then all you have to do is answer. I’ll keep it easy.”
Logan just nodded, his knee jackhammering under the desk.
She laid her hand over his to stop the tapping. His hand was cool under hers. She could hear his teeth grinding.
The last thing he wanted to hear were empty words assuring him it would be okay. He knew that. Wylder knew people with stage fright weren’t actually afraid of the people in the crowd. The fear came from what happened to someone
like Logan when they were on stage. The rush of white noise. The inability to think of a single thing to say. It had to be nerve wracking.
“Logan and Wylder are up next.” Mrs. Shepherd announced after the first pair went and really blew it—which was likely the point of the exercise.
Wylder walked to the front of the room with Logan, who hadn’t said a word since Mrs. Shepherd announced the activity. “Just follow my lead,” Wylder whispered as she took her seat on the stool.
“I’m the journalist,” Wylder announced. “Logan’s my prey.” She gave a wicked smile.
“All right, Logan.” Mrs. Shepherd smiled. “You’re a solo artist fresh off the stage after a hugely successful performance, and Wylder is about to interview you. You’re exhausted and probably not in the mood, but it’s part of your job to be upbeat for the fans, and that includes the bloggers and journalists begging for a moment of your time.”
Logan nodded, his knee bouncing against the stool.
“Take it away, Miss Anderson.” Mrs. Shepherd returned to her desk.
Wylder turned to Logan, nudging him to look at her and not the class. “Aw right, then,” she blurted in a terrible British accent and spoke into a pretend microphone. “I’m Ziggy Malone o’ UK’s Rolling Stone Magazine, here with Billy-The-Ax-McGee.” She flashed a cheeky grin, and Logan burst out laughing, the tension loosening in his shoulders.
“Billy’s fresh off the stage after a smashing concert here in cheery ‘ol London, and we know he’s absolutely knackered, so we won’t keep ‘im long. Billy, can you tell us what it’s like being the king o’ Monster Pop?” She leaned toward him. “Being the creator of a brand-new genre has to be a lot of hard work—writing songs like Yer Mum’s a Werewolf and I’m a Bloody Vampire—my personal favorite.” She pointed her pretend mic at him.
“Well, Zig—can I call you Zig?” Logan smiled at her, trying not to laugh.
“O’ course, we’re mates, you an’ me.”
“Well, Zig, it’s been a real thrill ride, I can tell you that. It feels like just yesterday I was back at school writing songs about tractors and velociraptors for fun, and it… well it just clicked one day. I knew it in my soul that Monster Pop was what was missing from the music industry, and I just went with it. I can hardly believe all the great talent showing up across the genre.”
“That’s ripping good to hear, mate.” Wylder pulled her mic back. “Can you tell us what inspired you to write your latest hit, My Uber Driver was a Zombie and Now I am Too?”
Logan choked back his laughter, but the rest of the class couldn’t keep straight faces, including Mrs. Shepherd.
Logan leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I owe all my success to a really great girl.”
“Awe, mate, don’t tell us you’re taken, all the Billyites will be crushed. What’s her name?”
“Layla. She’s the best.” Logan flashed his rock star smile.
“Your girl must be the bee’s knees if she inspires such great songs.”
“Layla’s my guitar.” Logan winked. “Couldn’t do it without her, though.”
“Blimey, what other instruments do you play?” Wylder was trying to keep the attention on herself, but Logan seemed to be at ease now.
“Drums, a little keyboard, and saxophone.” He nodded as if it were no big deal.
“Really, you play drums?” Wylder lost the accent for a moment “I’m totally gobsmacked. That’s bloody brilliant.”
“Well, I’m not anywhere near as good as my bandmate, Wylder Anderson. She’s the best there is. We’re lucky to have her on tour with us.”
“That’s unquestionable.” Wylder nodded. “She’s aces. Can you tell us where you’re going next on your tour of the universe?”
“Mars.” Logan nodded. “Me and a couple other Monster Pop musicians are heading across the Milky Way for the first-ever concert in space. We’re pretty jazzed about it.”
“That’s far out.” Wylder turned toward her pretend camera. “You heard it here first, ladies and gents, that was Billy-The-Ax-McGee, the rock star of the century heading for the red planet next. Back to you in the studio, Suzie Lou.” Wylder pretend dropped her pretend mic, and the class erupted in cheers.
“Well, that was certainly entertaining.” Mrs. Shepherd wiped the corners of her eyes as she laughed along with the class. “Nice job you two, you’ll have no trouble at all in your future interviews. Wylder, if you decide a career in music isn’t for you, you’ve got a future in entertainment television, that’s for sure.”
Wylder grinned as she and Logan made their way back to their seats and the next group was up.
“Thanks for that.” Logan bumped her shoulder.
“Anytime.”
“I don’t know how you do it, Wylds, but you’re the cure for my stage fright. Every time you get my mind off what I’m actually doing.”
“Stick wi’ me, mate, and I’ll make you a bloody star.”
“If I forgot to tell you earlier, you look really nice today.” Logan walked up the front steps to Wylder’s house right behind her mom.
“Oh, thanks,” Wylder whispered. “I feel like I should warn you about my dad before we go in.”
“He going to give me the third degree?”
“No, but he’s Beckett Anderson’s father, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. That apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.”
“Gotcha.” Logan squeezed her hand before they stepped through the front door.
“Make yourself at home, Logan,” Wylder’s stepmom ushered them into the living room. “I’ll just go check on dinner.”
“Yeah, make sure Dad didn’t set the kitchen on fire.” Wylder shrugged out of her coat.
“He insisted on grilling out even though it feels like it's forty below outside.” She shook her head and left them to investigate dinner.
“I hope he didn’t go to any trouble on my account.” Logan slipped out of his jacket. He wore a charcoal V-Neck sweater and dark jeans, and he smelled so good, Wylder scooted closer on the couch.
“I should also warn you about Steak Club.” She winced.
“Steak Club?” He gave her his half grin/smirk.
“Oh, crap, I forgot to ask. You eat steak, don’t you?”
“Frequently.” Logan leaned back against the couch cushions.
“Good.”
“So, Steak Club?”
“It’s this stupid thing my dad and my brother came up with years ago. Our bio mom wasn’t the greatest. I think I already told you she was an addict, and it was hard for Becks growing up with that. I don’t remember it as much because Dad left with us when I was still really young, but Becks struggled, and so they made up steak club. It’s this pact that no matter how bad your day might have been or what you’re dealing with, nothing can touch you at steak club. It’s just good food, fun, and usually comes with a healthy dose of parent pep-talk or Becks pep-talk when they're not around.”
“Sounds great.” Logan nodded. “And it smells incredible. I haven’t had a decent steak in ages.”
“Then you’re in for a treat, young sir.” Wylder’s dad stepped into the living room wearing a tattered orange apron that said Kiss the Cook.
“Mr. Anderson.” Logan stood and reached to shake her dad’s hand. “Thank you for the invite. It came at a great time.”
“You’re welcome. Glad to meet you, son. I can imagine that school of yours gets a little stifling at times. We can’t keep Wylder on campus much. She sneaks out a lot. Thinks we don’t know it.”
“I’ve noticed.” Logan laughed.
“Come on in, guys,” Wylder’s mom called from the dining room. “Dinner’s about ready. Logan what can I get you to drink? Wylder’s dad makes some really gross Kombucha, or we have soda, iced tea?”
“Tea would be great. Thank you, Mrs. Anderson.”
This was weird. Wylder followed them into the dining room. She’d seen Becks do this with his friends and girlfriends through the years, and frequently sin
ce he’d started dating Nicky, but it was weird bringing one of her friends to steak club.
“How do you like your steak, Logan?”
“Medium rare, just short of mooing.”
“Excellent choice.” Her dad darted back outside to gather the steaks from the grill.
“Have a seat you two.” Her mom nodded for them to take the seats opposite hers as she poured glasses of iced tea.
“I’m not going to lie, Logan, I Googled you earlier.”
“Mom!” Wylder was mortified.
“Well, I wanted to know what all the fuss was about. You told me to look him up.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t supposed to tell him.”
Her stepmom ignored her. “We heard what happened at the game the other night, and the school’s been keeping us informed about the investigation. I’m just so sorry that happened, Logan, dear. It was an invasion of your privacy to upload that video like that, and Wylder’s privacy. Considering you both have famous siblings, whoever the guilty party is should have known it would blow up.”
“It comes with the territory when you have a famous brother.” Logan glanced at Wylder. “Especially when you wear your brother’s face.”
“That must be so difficult for you.”
“It’s had its ups and downs.” Logan sipped his tea. “Mostly downs.”
“I can’t get over it, you look just like Luke.” Wylder’s dad returned with the steaks and took his seat beside her mom. “I can’t tell the difference at all, and I spent the whole afternoon staring at Luke’s face in Wylder’s bedroom.”
“Seriously, Dad?” Wylder groaned.
“She had his face plastered all across her bedroom. Took me over an hour to take down all those posters.”
“I haven’t lived in that bedroom for more than a year.”
“It’s no secret you were a Luke fan.” Logan winked.
“I got over it.” Wylder passed a basket of rolls around. “It was a phase, but I still like his music.”
“Since this is your first time to Steak Club.” Her dad stood to serve the steaks. “You should know it’s a safe zone. We don’t let bad things touch us at Steak Club. You can leave your worries at the door. They’ll still be there later for you to pick up on your way out. But while you’re here, you get to unwind, take a load off, have a good meal and a good laugh.”
Wylder and the Almost Rockstar (Reluctant Rockstars Book 2) Page 12
