by Jen Calonita
I’d seen Jillian in a few of PS’s videos. They liked to prank her, too. They called her Li’l Sis or Mini-Briggs. I had a feeling she knew the guys better than anyone. Maybe she could give me some Zander tips.
Jillian shook my hand vigorously. “Thanks so much for deflating Zander’s ego a bit. This day needed a pick-me-up after last night’s heat hell on the tour bus. Zander needed a bath anyway. He stinks! Literally.” Jillian rolled her eyes as she pulled her hair out of a bun piled high on her head. It fell to the middle of her back, hitting the top of her cute royal blue tank top. “No offense, guys,” she said to Kyle and Heath, “I love you all like brothers, but man, can you clear out a tour bus.”
“Um, we’re standing right here, Jilly,” Kyle said, his cheeks reddening like my own.
Jillian tugged at her Lemon Ade concert tank. She didn’t seem to care. “The farting contests have got to go. When you can’t open the bus windows, there is no way to get rid of that smell,” she told me. “I’m soooo glad there is another girl on this tour,” Jillian continued. “You have no idea how hard it is to hang out with roadies and these guys all day long.”
“I’m sure it’s torture,” I said, hoping to fit in with Jilly. Really, I was thinking it sounded like a dream come true. I felt the Roaring Dragon dripping from my face and tried to wipe the liquid away. That’s when Heath grabbed my arm, turning it over to look at my wrist. I’d forgotten I drew on my forearm on the plane. It was a pen drawing of Thor holding his hammer.
“Did you draw that?” Heath asked. “Guys, look at this!” Jillian and Kyle leaned over my arm. “That’s killer! I always wanted a magic hammer like Thor’s.”
“It’s not a magic hammer, it’s Mjolnir,” I said. Kyle chuckled.
Heath’s chocolate-brown eyes widened. His lashes were so thick it looked like he had eyeliner on them, but now that I was standing that close, I could tell he wasn’t actually wearing any! And wait! Where were his tattoos? I guess they had been sleeves, just like Iris suspected. I had to tell the girls ASAP!
I shrugged. “I know my comics.” I felt Mac Attack course through my veins. Or maybe it was that Roaring Dragon. I was starting to feel nauseous again. I grabbed a banana from the untouched food on the table. It was covered in green syrup, but I took it anyway.
“She’s got you beat at comic-book stuff, Heathcliff!” Jillian declared with a laugh.
“I wish everyone would stop calling me that,” he whined.
Jillian stared at my outfit. “Hey, I know that shirt! The guys showed them to me in New York. Are you the girl who made them?”
I nodded.
“I sent that tee to my mum,” Kyle said. “You’re a good artist.”
Wow, to his mom? “Thank you,” I said shyly. Kyle and I stared at each other for a moment. Then Headset Girl popped her head in and waved for the boys to join her.
“We’ll have to talk more about the Avengers soon,” Heath said as he headed to the door. “Welcome to the tour, Mac.”
Kyle gave a little wave good-bye.
“Thanks,” I said, watching them go.
“Come on!” Jillian took my hand. “Let’s follow them. We can make faces at them through the studio window while they’re doing their interview.”
By the time Mom and I checked into the hotel, I’d decided to add a Jillian character to the Mac Attack band. Her superpower? Laser-sharp memory. Jillian can recite street addresses for things like Zoo Atlanta and knows what time the boys eat breakfast most mornings (nine thirty).
Jillian might be the coolest girl I’ve ever met (other than Iris and Scarlet, of course). The two of us did not stop talking from the minute she said, “I don’t trust people who don’t eat ice cream.” (ME TOO!) She also hates cheese on her pizza just like I do! (“Why would anyone want to melt cheese on bread?” she asked, and I totally agree.) And she thinks of PS like brothers, so there’s no Zander crush competition. We’re also both afraid of sharks after seeing The Sharkinator Lives! But Jillian can swim really fast, so she doesn’t think she’ll be eaten by one.
At the end of the day she told me to call her Jilly, and I told her to call me Mac. It was a true sign that we clicked as friends.
Friday, February 26
LOCATION: Tour Stop #2—Orlando, Florida
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked Jilly. She was driving a golf cart through the backstage area of Orlando’s Amway Center. I held on to my seat so tightly my knuckles were turning white as Jilly made a sharp turn down a long hallway and almost rammed into a row of boxes.
This is why twelve-year-olds don’t drive!
“Daddy lets me drive the golf carts all the time,” Jilly said, hitting the brakes before speeding off again. “It’s the only way we’ll make it to the PS set in time.”
“I’d rather live than see the show,” I mumbled as a roadie jumped out of the way of our cart.
“Stop worrying!” Jilly said. “Look! There’s the entrance to the seats!” She made a sharp left, and I almost fell out of the cart. Jilly pulled to a stop near a set of massive double doors that led from the backstage to the concert seats. There was a big sign on them that said CONCERT IN PROGRESS. I heard a familiar melody coming from inside the arena.
“How you doing, Orlando? We’re Perfect Storm!” Zander yelled. The crowd went wild, and I froze.
PS was about to open for Lemon Ade for the second time since I joined the tour, and for the second time I didn’t want to go out there and watch the show for free.
I know, I know, ISN’T THAT THE WHOLE REASON WHY I’M HERE?
But I couldn’t face Zander. The guys were still teasing me about the Roaring Dragon Nightmare. My first time meeting the boys as an official member of the tour, and I made a huge mess of things! Jilly said Zander had probably forgotten about the green-soda bath by now, but I was avoiding him just in case. In Atlanta, I had claimed the energy drink made me too sick to go to the concert. Now we were in Orlando, and I had told Mom I caught a cold from the traveling. Jilly wasn’t buying it.
“Come on, Mac. I got Daddy to give us VIP stage seats, and I almost never get VIP stage seats!” Jilly told me, pulling her long hair into another bun without a hair tie. I still don’t know how she does that. “You do not want to pass these seats up. They usually go to, well, very important people.”
When she dragged me inside, I blinked hard to adjust to the dark. I was used to concert arenas being bright when you walked in so you could find your seats, but since it had taken Jilly almost an hour to convince me to come, the show had already started. We had to use our phone flashlight apps to find our seats. The stadium was two stories high and full of people already standing and clapping along. I watched the lights onstage flash blue, then green, and finally land on Zander’s face.
As soon as Zander started to sing “I Feel Blue,” all my fears melted away. I stopped in my tracks to watch him, and soon I was daydreaming again about us running along the beach together, Zander alongside me holding a mic.…
“Mac? HELLO, Mac!” Jilly waved a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my daydream. “Come on. You can see better from our seats.”
Suddenly I didn’t have to be asked twice. Jilly pulled me along till we got to the VIP section—a slightly elevated platform in the middle of the floor with three rows of seats. A runway led from our seats to the main stage. Mom and Briggs were already there. Behind them I could see the boys’ families. Since they are all under eighteen, a family member has to travel with them. “Having fun?” Mom asked over the roaring crowd. Normally, Mom would be working backstage, but she had told me that morning she’d be watching the set to see how it looked from an audience perspective.
“These seats are amazing,” I whispered, not wanting to interrupt Zander’s singing. Kyle was playing the guitar, and Heath was sitting on top of a giant, glittery cutout of the letters PS.
“Five, six, seven, eight!” Heath shouted at the top of his lungs. He jumped off the letters and ran around the stage
in ripped jeans and a vintage concert tee that said AC/DC. Sparklers lit the stage as the boys began singing “I Need You (Like a Fish Needs Water).”
I started singing along right away, and Jilly begrudgingly joined me. Soon I was so caught up in the music, I almost didn’t see Zander POINT TO ME. Our eyes locked and he grinned. Was he going to walk down the catwalk toward me?
The shakes started again! I had to think clearly and channel my alter ego. Mac Attack would act like she couldn’t care less if Zander walked the catwalk to sing to her—she’d probably grab Zander’s mic and start to sing to him.
There was no way I was going to do that. Instead I lip-synched the words and smiled as Zander continued to look at me. A piece of hair fell in front of his blue eyes, but he didn’t brush it away. He just kept staring at me until—OUCH! A heel crunched down hard on my sneaker.
“You’re in my seat.”
I looked away from Zander and saw an older girl standing right on top of me. She was made up like a Teen Vogue model. (My mom lets me wear lip gloss most of the time, and eyeliner only on special occasions.) She had big blond hair that was held in place with enough hair spray to evaporate a new section of the ozone, and while I was still barely filling out my training bra, she had, um, a lot going on upstairs.
“Excuse me?” I rubbed my toes through my sneaker.
The girl rolled her eyes, which looked almost yellow in the dim light. “I said, ‘You’re in my seat.’ Can you tell this little girl to move?” she asked an older girl behind her. “We should have three front-row seats. I’m Lola Cummings.” She leaned in closer so I could hear her as the screaming intensified. “As in Lyle Cummings’s daughter. Get it?”
“Who is Lyle Cummings?” I asked.
“My dad created the Wave One radio app,” she said smugly.
I blinked. “Never heard of it.”
She sighed. “You know, that app where you can personalize your own music stations?”
“I don’t use that app,” I said, already annoyed that she’d called me a little girl. “These seats were given to me, so if you could just move so I could see Zander, that’d be great.”
“Aww, she likes Zander,” Lola said, and clutched her heart. “That’s so cute. Isn’t she cute?” she said to her friends. “Aren’t you out past your bedtime?”
Now I was getting really ticked off. “I’m not a little kid. I’m twelve.”
Lola and her friends snorted. Snorted! “That’s adorable,” the one with the airbrushed PS tee said, and Lola nodded like a bobblehead. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Zander begin to walk down the catwalk. He was coming my way! I needed to get Lola out of here before she ruined the moment.
“Amber, who is my travel aide, is twenty-one, and my friend Bridget and I are fifteen, which is way older than twelve,” Lola said condescendingly. “Actually, fifteen is the same age as Zander.” Lola adjusted her purse straps, and those expensive bangles I’ve been begging Mom for slid down her arm. “I know all there is to know about Perfect Storm.”
If she wanted a PS fact-off, I’d give her one. Zander had just stopped on the catwalk and was singing to some girls with a huge sign. I had a few minutes. “Really? What’s Zander’s favorite meal?”
She rolled her eyes. “Easy. A burger with cheddar cheese and bacon, sweet potato fries, corn peeled off the cob, and a brownie sundae for dessert.” Bridget and Lola high-fived. “I also know the name of his first dog, his favorite color, and his favorite bedtime story. Daddy knows I worship PS, so he lets Bridget and me fly to all their concerts with Amber. And this seat you’re in? It’s always mine.”
Not tonight, it wasn’t. “My mom is the band’s new tour manager, and Briggs himself gave me these tickets,” I bragged, but it was hard to sound braggy over the roar of the audience screaming at the top of their lungs. Zander was getting closer. “So maybe you should—”
“Mac?” Mom touched my shoulder. “You’re going to have to move seats, sweetie,” she said apologetically as Zander drew closer.
She couldn’t hear me shout no over the screaming girls. Lola, Bridget, and their nanny, or whatever she was, looked at me smugly.
“Lola’s father just called Briggs to let him know she’d be here tonight.” Mom smiled at Lola. “Please have a seat, and let us know if we can get you anything.”
“It’s about time,” Lola said, nudging me out of the way.
I wanted to yank her hair. Mom must have sensed this because she pulled me into the aisle with Jilly. “Mac, I’m sorry, but Lola’s dad is a big deal to this tour. If he requests front-row VIP seats for his daughter, then we have to give them to her.” She grimaced. “There aren’t any extra seats up here tonight, so you guys will have to watch from the monitor backstage.”
“That’s not fair,” Jilly complained. “Lola is a spoiled brat who flies around in a private jet and is awful to everyone. She gets tickets to almost all their shows.”
Mom winced at the ear-piercing screams. “Wave One is Lemon Ade’s biggest sponsor, which means it’s also Perfect Storm’s. If we treat Lola well, who knows where it could lead for PS? I’m sorry, girls,” she said as the three of us continued to stand in the aisle. “I don’t like it, either, but we have to play along.”
Just then I heard the screaming intensify. Zander had reached the end of the catwalk and was STANDING IN FRONT OF MY OLD SEAT. I watched as Lola and Bridget started to jump up and down. THEN ZANDER TOOK LOLA’S HAND AND LED HER BACK TO THE STAGE. Bridget practically fell to the floor convulsing.
“Typical,” Jilly mumbled to herself as I watched in horror.
“What do you think, Orlando? Should I save this gorgeous girl from herself?” Zander asked the adoring crowd. “I think I’m going to sit her right here onstage for our whole set. Lola Cummings can be my lucky charm tonight.”
I was supposed to be Zander’s lucky charm tonight! He wanted to save me from me when he was walking down the catwalk! Now he was singing to Lola Cummings.
Jilly put her arm around me and led me away from the horror unfolding in front of us. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t come to every show. Maybe you’ll be the one Zander sings to in Nashville.”
“Maybe,” I said, but I felt like a deflated balloon. All I could think about was this old movie musical my mom likes called Damn Yankees. In it there’s this devilish character named Lola, and lyrics from her theme song were now stuck in my head on repeat: “Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.”
I just hoped this time the song was wrong.
Sunday, February 28
LOCATION: The middle of nowhere, aka on the way to Nashville, Tennessee
As our tour bus cruised along the highway to our next destination, Mom and Briggs sat at the kitchen table going over Perfect Storm’s schedule, Jilly watched a movie on her tablet in the bunk bed below me, and I recounted the Lola fiasco to Scarlet and Iris on the phone. They were very sympathetic. Iris promised to delete the Wave One app from her phone, and Scarlet declared Lola as her sworn enemy even though she had never met her. Despite their attempts to cheer me, I was still worked up over a tweet Zander posted after Friday night’s concert:
Zander Welling @zanderswell
Orlando—our best show yet! And 2 the girl who came onstage and all the others at the show—every single one of you is cute as a button!
Zander didn’t tweet anything like that after he met me. Then again, Lola probably never sprayed green soda at him.
The bus ground to a halt, and I heard the click-clack of Mom’s heels. She had probably heard me on the phone with Scarlet and Iris and was going to give me a lecture about my cell phone minutes. Instead she pulled the bunk bed curtain back and smiled. “Time for school!”
“School? Now?” I asked, staring at the dusty field outside my window. Below me I heard Jilly turn off the movie she was watching.
Mom nodded. “Yes. Get your shoes on. You’re switching to the boys’ bus for class, and the boys’ families are
moving over here, so you can all concentrate on your work. You too, Jilly.”
“No worries, Piper. I know the drill,” I heard her say.
“Wait, you weren’t kidding about me going to school with Perfect Storm?” I felt shaky all of a sudden, like I did after that Roaring Dragon.
“No,” Mom said, glancing at the number on her phone and frowning. “Your tutor’s name is Krissy.” She motioned to a bag by her feet. In it were some of the school binders and notebooks I’d happily left in New York. Scratch that: thought I had left behind. “She already has your course work, and she’s assured me she’ll work with you privately to make sure you don’t fall behind in your classes back home.”
Great. “Work with you privately” sounded like code for “mucho amounts of homework.”
Mom coaxed me out of bed. Jilly was already waiting by the door with textbooks of her own. “Let’s go! We need to get you two on that bus and stay on schedule to get to Nashville on time.”
I looked in a mirror as I walked to the front of the bus. I tried to pat down my bedhead and unwrinkle my wrinkled Captain America tee. I accepted the orange juice and bagels Mom threw at us as she shoved us out the door. The boys’ bus was just ahead of ours, and I could see a petite, dark-haired woman waving us forward as we approached.
“Hello, Mackenzie Lowell!” she said in a voice that sounded like a cartoon mouse. With her gray pantsuit, she looked like a mouse, too. “I’m Krissy Pollicino, your new on-the-road teacher.” She thrust three familiar textbooks into my arms as I went to shake her hand. “Time’s a-wasting, so let’s get on this bus and start a-learning!”
Jilly gave me a look and hurried on the bus ahead of me. Mom stopped to talk to Krissy about my “work ethic,” as she called it, and I went on board. Perfect Storm’s bus was nicer than ours. The couches were leather and didn’t look bolted to the ground (even if they were). The large flat-screen TV was connected to every type of video game setup possible. There was a built-in bookshelf stocked with the latest DVDs, and guitars and sound equipment stored in compartments in the walls. The kitchen was tiny but still fancier than ours. Kyle was at the fridge, and I could see it was stocked with red Gatorade (Zander’s fave!), chilled Oreos (more Zander!), and lots of strawberries (Zander again!). The cabinet Zander was currently opening had boxes upon boxes of Froot Loops and Cheerios inside. As soon as Zander saw me, he closed the cabinet and walked over. I started to panic. Was he going to yell at me?
