by Magan Vernon
The bright orange flyer had yellow letters and a picture of some half-cocked cowboy with a guitar. The Dallas country radio station was holding a contest to find the next big country music star. Eddie saw the flyer that morning at the coffee shop in Wylie and hadn’t shut up about it since.
“Come on, Brooke. You know this could be my chance!” he exclaimed, practically jumping out of his boots.
I stopped at my car, unlocking the door. “And how many other people have said that? I’m not trying to squash your dreams; I’m just being realistic. I don’t want to see you fail and mope around for months, stealing liquor from your gramps to drown your sorrows while you play your guitar by the pond.”
“Come on, B. For me, please?” Eddie grabbed my hand and a warm jolt swept through my body. When I finally looked up and met his warm brown eyes, I knew there was no way I could say no.
“Okay. Tell me when to pick you up.”
***
“How long are you going to be grounded once your mom finds out we went to downtown Dallas for this?” I asked, glancing at Eddie out of the corner of my eye.
We’d barely spoken to each other, and he’d spent most of the ride on the highway strumming his fingers on his knee and humming along to every song on the radio.
“That depends on if I win or not,” Eddie said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
I wanted to tell him that at least one hundred other people were probably trying out for this contest and most of them had years of vocal training by someone other than our small town choir teacher or assistant pastor. Instead, I just looked ahead at the highway. For once, I was going to keep my mouth shut and just be supportive.
Usually, whenever we went to downtown Dallas, we took the DART, but Eddie didn’t want to be too late and didn’t trust bringing his guitar on the train, so having me drive was our best option. Mainly because I had a better car and he was so nervous. I was sure his shaky hands would have had us in a ditch before Garland.
The radio station held the contest at a local bar in Dallas. We were there almost two hours early, but a line had already circled the building and went on for another two blocks. It took me another half an hour to find a way-too-expensive-but-not-sketchy-looking place to park, then I followed Eddie in line.
We didn’t say anything as the minutes and hours ticked by. It wasn’t until we were right at the door and could hear the twang of some Wynonna Judd-wannabe echoing out the door that Eddie turned toward me with a look of panic in his eyes.
“Do you think I made a mistake? Am I going to embarrass myself and end up not only grounded forever, but getting my ass kicked at school for acting a fool?” Eddie asked.
I wanted to tell him that all of those things were a possibility. That he could crack like he had in last year’s school play, laughed at until he recovered, and did the best rendition of “Do I love you because you’re Beautiful” in Friendship’s rendition of Cinderella.
But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I just took his hand and squeezed it. “You can do it, Eddie. Knock ‘em dead.”
I gave him the wink he always gave me right when they called his name.
Following him into the dimly lit bar, I spotted the small stage with a single microphone and stool. To the right, sitting behind a large table, were three of the local country radio DJs, looking like the very smiley judge and jury.
Eddie had squeezed my hand before he made his way to the stage, slinging his guitar strap over his shoulder.
“And what’s your name, cutie?” one of the female DJs in a cowboy hat asked.
“Tootsie, I don’t think this kid is even legal,” the older male DJ with a full white beard said, laughing into the microphone in front of him.
Eddie didn’t miss a beat, flashing his dimpled smile as he leaned toward the microphone. “I’m Eddie Jahid, and I’ll be eighteen next month.”
All three of the DJs laughed before the male DJ leaned toward his mic. “That name doesn’t do you justice, young man. I think we could come up with a better name for you. Maybe something like...”
“Eddie Justice,” Tootsie interrupted.
“Hey, whatever y’all wanna call me, I’ll be happy to answer to,” Eddie said, laying his drawl on thick.
The other female DJ flipped her long blond hair over her shoulder. “I think Eddie Justice is flirting with you, Tootsie. Is that going to give him extra points?”
“Well, Jack-E, if he can sing as he good as he talks, then he can have all my points. Next month, he’ll get the extra credit,” Tootsie said, wiggling her thin red eyebrows.
“All right, ladies, enough flirtin’. Let’s see what Eddie Justice here can do,” the male DJ said.
Eddie smiled; the only crack in his otherwise calm façade was his shaky pinky that no one else would have recognized if they hadn’t been his best friend since the womb.
“Well, Mr. Rickshaw, today, I wanted to go with something classic and give a little ode to the King of Country himself, George Strait,” Eddie said, tipping the white hat I got him for Christmas.
I hadn’t brought up his shitty gift or the girl who broke up with him right after New Year’s and the bimbo from prom. As we went into our senior year of high school, it was back to being just Eddie and me. And win or lose this competition, I’d be Eddie’s shoulder to cry or to cheer him on. Or if he wanted to cheer into my vagina, I wouldn’t object to that either. I just had to tell him that I had been secretly in love with him forever. Maybe I’d get the courage after all of this. Maybe.
“All right, Eddie Justice, let’s hear it,” Rickshaw said, clapping his hands together.
Eddie strummed a few chords on the guitar and closed his eyes before he hummed the opening bars of “Carrying your Love with Me.” He opened his eyes, and the words not only flowed through his mouth but every part of him. Eddie emulated every part of the song and goose bumps pricked my body, feeling his words.
Enamored with him, the DJs stared open-mouthed at the scrawny kid who needed a haircut. I knew then that they were seeing the guy I’d seen all my life and that my days were numbered with my best friend, Eddie Jahid. Soon, he would be Eddie Justice, superstar.
The Eddie Justice Throwback Honky Tonk Tour sponsored by HJBS in Austin was in an old dance hall outside town. It was supposed to be an intimate gathering of only a hundred guests who had won various radio contests.
I should have been excited that it was my first official outing with Eddie as his girlfriend and that I’d get to see him perform live, but my author dashboard and latest book sales were putting a damper on the whole thing.
“Make sure to hashtag Eddie comeback with everything,” Pam, Eddie’s publicist, said over my shoulder.
I locked my phone, not wanting her to see the entire three copies I’d sold since my release yesterday and the same amount for my other books. At this rate, I’d have to beg for my high school job at Conti’s back to pay Clay rent.
“Couldn’t think of a better hashtag, ‘ey?” I said, not really sure what else to say.
Pam gave me a tight-lipped smile. “So Eddie told me you’re an author. I looked up your collection last night. I would have one-clicked your latest, but I’m not much for billionaire books. Or ones with swear words in the title.”
“Technically, bitch is starred out,” I said, raising a finger.
Pam smirked. “Yes, that new one was. Same for Stepbrother B*tch.”
“These titles just come to me. It’s a gift,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I actually was.
“You know, if you did write something a little more, I don’t know, mainstream romance, I do have some friends in publishing if you’d want me to pass something along.”
Normally, I would have smiled and said something smartass, but with my dwindling bank account and sucky sales, I had to take a bone when it was handed to me.
“I have been working on a little something with a country music star and his former girlfriend. A second-chance romance,” I said, trying to
think of a better way to explain it. I’d sent Sydney my first three chapters, and she said it was the best thing I’d ever written. I had to agree that for this book, the words were flowing, and I was loving every one of them.
Pam smiled fully. “An autobiography?”
“Uh. No. This takes place in Georgia, and Justin and Blythe were boyfriend and girlfriend in high school and had one romantic night together before he hit the road with his country band.” Even as I said the words, I realized how much it did sound like my real life, and I couldn’t hide that.
Pam took a business card out of her wallet and handed it to me then squeezed my shoulder. “Now, that’s something I would definitely read. Send it to me when you get a chance.”
With that, Pam left me there staring at the fancy embossed lettering on her business card.
When I started this writing dream, I’d had high hopes that it would turn into something that would keep me away from all of the other failed half-ass jobs. But now that reality was hitting, I figured I had nothing left to lose. I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and forwarded Pam the pages I had sent to Sydney, saying a silent prayer that this wouldn’t be another failure.
***
“Hello, Texas, I’m Eddie Justice. If you’re here for somebody else, kindly exit there in the back, and I’ll turn around, pretending I didn’t see you. This will also give you ladies in the front a good view of my butt,” Eddie practically purred into the microphone, slowly turning around and flashing a dimpled grin over his shoulder.
“The guy can work a crowd, can’t he?” a low voice purred in my ear.
I whirled around to see a very tall redhead with hazel eyes that shone even in the dim light of the dance hall. Something was familiar about him, but I couldn’t place the strange sense of Deja vu.
“Dude, Scotty, leave her alone, that’s Eddie’s girlfriend,” an equally tall man with spiky hair and eyes bluer than the sea said, nudging his broad shoulder against Scotty’s.
“The chick with the glasses who’s always sitting at the bakery?” Scotty asked, blinking once then twice, his eyes roaming over my body.
“Should I be finding security or do y’all stalk every girl at concerts?” I asked, putting my hand on my hip. I thought I knew most people in Friendship, but it had been a while since I’d really explored. These guys were probably close to ten years younger than I was, so I might have just vaguely remembered them as diapered kids coming into Conti’s.
All of Eddie’s fans were down on the first-floor gathering near the stage, and those of us who were Eddie’s “VIP” stayed in a balcony area. I recognized a few country stars but was too afraid to approach them, and then, of course, there was Eddie’s team. If these guys were up here, they had to be somebody. Maybe they were some of his cousins from Arkansas who wanted a favor, and I’d met them at a family gathering.
The guy with the bright blue eyes shook his head then extended his hand. “Sorry to be a jerk. I’m Jay, and this is Scotty. We’re friends of Eddie’s and have been staying in Friendship for training.”
That was where I recognized him. Jay Morningstar and Scotty Forester were two Olympic swimmers. They’d both slammed some gold medals in the pool and had been in the media spotlight for some unsavory things lately. Though I didn’t know how these guys could get into any trouble. They had cereal box smiles, and though they might have been tall, lean, and undeniably attractive, I was still pretty sure I could have changed their diapers.
I smiled, shaking Jay’s hand then Scotty’s. “Nice to meet y’all officially. I’m Brooke, but I guess you knew that.”
Scotty finished whatever was in his rocks glass; something I wasn’t even sure he could legally drink. “I’m going to get another drink. Do you guys want anything?” He pointed back and forth between Jay and me.
I shook my head, my brown waves flying around my head. I figured if I was going to play the part of country star girlfriend, I should probably get out of my usual leggings and ponytail, and do my Texas blowout and makeup before putting on a tank top, shorts, and my boots. I felt like a girl who should be dancing in the back of someone’s pickup truck in a music video, but better that than waking up to see another picture of me on TNC with my resting bitch face and bedhead. Not that I had been totally stalking the site every chance I got to see what they had been saying about the country music star. I’d only had brief mentions and two photos. I’d hoped maybe that would help book sales, but I was still sitting at thirty books sold total for the month of January and that included the whopping five e-copies I’d sold of my new release.
Leaning against the railing, I watched Eddie work the crowd before starting the next song.
“Big country fan?” Jay asked, leaning on the railing next to me.
I shrugged. “Sort of. Growing up in Texas, you’re kind of born and raised on it.”
“Yeah, SoCal isn’t exactly a country music mecca. I’m more of a punk guy myself, but Eddie is friends with my sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law, so thought I’d come out and support him,” Jay said, swirling his glass around. He hadn’t even taken a sip of the light brown liquid inside.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Scotty chatting up the tattooed blonde behind the bar.
“You can go join Scotty. You don’t need to feel like you have to stand next to me,” I said, hitching my thumb behind me as I turned toward Jay.
Jay didn’t even look in the direction I was pointing. “Naw. I’m not into finding his flavor of the week. Truth be told, I kind of met someone in Friendship, and I can’t stop thinking about her. Don’t tell Scotty that or he’ll give me so much shit.”
I raised my eyebrows. “A girl in Friendship?”
The smile broadened on his face. “Yeah. Her name’s Lia. She works at Conti’s.”
I could have warned Jay about the strict Conti family and her two older brothers who would probably kick his ass if he even looked at her the wrong way. But instead, I smiled. Something about Lia reminded me of myself, and every girl deserved to have a famous, attractive guy pine for her.
“You should totally call her. I bet I could get her number from her brother,” I said, nudging his shoulder.
Jay laughed slightly, shaking his head. “Yeah, I had her number until I dropped my phone in the pool at practice. Last time I saw her, she seemed in a rush to leave me. I don’t know. Maybe she’s just not into swimmers.”
I laughed. “I think you may have just read her wrong. If I were you, I’d call her, or hell, even show up at Conti’s and say ‘Ey, Lia, I’m into your Sicilian geek chic and we should go out for ice cream’ or something more romantic,” I said.
Jay laughed. “You know, for a romance writer, you have some pretty lame lines.”
“Think you could come up with something better?” I asked.
He shrugged then pushed off the balcony. “I don’t know, but I guess I should probably find out.”
“Right now?” I asked, watching him set down his glass on a nearby table and grab a hoodie.
“Yeah. I’m sure Scotty won’t even notice I’m gone,” Jay said, shrugging on the hoodie then zipping it up.
“You do know it’s like a five-hour drive without traffic back to Friendship, right?” I raised an eyebrow.
Jay smiled. “Luckily, it’s only forty minutes by plane.”
I rolled my eyes. “Does everyone but me travel by private plane now?”
Jay shrugged. “Maybe. Air is the best way to travel. Plus, if I’ve got a beautiful girl to impress, I can’t wait five hours for that.”
I smiled. “Go get her, Jay.”
“Thanks, Brooke.” He patted my back then went to the bar, saying a few words to Scotty before he was out the back door.
Jay and Scotty were the only actual conversation I had all night. After Eddie had played one set, there was a second set then an encore then another encore. After that was a meet and greet and autograph session.
I wasn’t even tired when it was all done but rather yaw
ning from boredom. I thought about live-tweeting or Facebook-living the event, but the radio station was already doing that, and I was pretty sure my thousand followers didn’t care.
I thought Eddie would be hyped up after the show and want to hang out, or maybe, you know, have shower sex, but he fell asleep in the car back to the house and woke up briefly to mumble, “Good night,” and kiss my cheek before he crashed.
I tried to lay down next to him, but I was wide-awake, staring at the coffered ceiling. After doing that for about thirty minutes, I decided to do something productive, so I grabbed my laptop and headed downstairs to the grand dining room table.
I brewed a pot of coffee and opened my Word doc. My best work usually came in the middle of the night, and if Pam really did have friends in publishing, maybe it was time to give this story a chance.
I set down my full mug of coffee, and my fingers typed without me even thinking of what I was actually saying.
I didn’t expect to have fun at Justin’s shows since I wasn’t a big country music fan, but I also didn’t expect him to leave me to go have sex with his groupies.
So none of that was true, but like I told Pam, it wasn’t autobiographical and this made for a more exciting read.
By the time I’d finished two mugs of coffee, I’d written almost ten thousand words and the sun was starting to rise. I hit save and emailed Pam the revised Word doc with the new title and tagline “Rumor Has It: The semi-true story of a rock star girlfriend.” That one was sure to get some sales.
Chapter 16
Eddie had a debriefing and more meetings with Pam and Stan on the way back to Austin, which was fine by me because I slept the entire plane ride back.
It wasn’t until we were in the limo and the privacy screen was up between the driver and us that Eddie finally spoke.
“The semi-true story of a rock star girlfriend,” he grumbled, tapping his fingers on his knee.
“What?” I asked, still half-asleep. Maybe staying up all night wasn’t the best idea.
