All About the Hype

by Paige Toon

  I’m bursting with pride as Brandon wraps his arms round me and lifts me from the ground.

  ‘That’s cool,’ Miles says with a laugh, patting my back as Brandon puts me down again.

  ‘Very cool,’ Jack adds, and I purse my lips as he hooks his arm round my neck and plants a kiss on my cheek, knowing how tame the gesture is compared to what he’d like to be doing.

  On Saturday evening, Jack turns up in his Audi to collect me. I had an argument with Johnny earlier about security measures for tonight. He’s agreed that Jack can drive me on the condition that Sam follows and comes into the venue with us. I’m gutted.

  He came out with his usual, ‘you won’t even know he’s there,’ line, but he’s wrong. It was supposed to be just Jack and me tonight.

  Still, I’m trying not to let it get to me. Gramps left to go back to the UK yesterday after he and I spent the week trying to convince Johnny and Meg that he’s capable of being my guardian while they’re away on tour. Johnny is still thinking about it, so I don’t want to rub him up the wrong way by making his life difficult.

  As we’re going to a gig, I’ve dressed down tonight in skinny black jeans and one of Agnes’s cool neon-on-black graphic tees, but I’ve spent ages getting ready. I’ve scrunched my hair and I’m wearing it down so it’s got a tousled effect, and my eye make-up is dark and sultry. This is the first time Jack and I will be out together without our friends around. Who knows what the night has in store?

  Again, I have to remind myself that Sam’s going to be there…

  I jump when the doorbell goes, even though I’m expecting Jack. I have to force myself to walk steadily and calmly down the stairs.

  Johnny is sitting on the living-room sofa, watching telly. I still call him Johnny most of the time in my head, even though I’m trying to call him Dad to his face.

  ‘Ask him in,’ he calls.

  ‘I think we’ll just get going,’ I reply edgily.

  ‘No, ask him in.’ He looks over his shoulder at me. ‘This is your first proper date, right?’ Damn me for telling him that. ‘I should meet your boyfriend,’ he adds.

  ‘You’ve met him loads of times,’ I point out with a frown.

  He raises his eyebrows at me.

  ‘Fine,’ I mutter, going to the door.

  My heart flips at the sight of Jack standing there. He’s so gorgeous. His black hair, longer and messier on top, has been pushed back from his face, offering a clear view of his blue-grey eyes and his long dark lashes.

  ‘Hi,’ I say, feeling shy all of a sudden.

  ‘Hey.’ He smiles down at me. ‘You ready?’

  ‘Johnny, I mean, my dad, wants you to come in.’

  He cocks an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

  ‘Mmm-hmm,’ I say ominously.

  He shrugs. ‘OK.’

  I lead the way back inside.

  ‘Hey, Jack,’ Johnny says casually, getting up from the sofa.

  ‘Hi,’ Jack replies.

  Johnny leans against the back of the sofa and crosses his arms. ‘You guys are going to see Contour Lines tonight, hey?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Jack nods.

  ‘My friend Christian wrote their biography not that long ago. Should be a good gig.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Jack replies, shoving his hands into his pockets. His shoulders are hunched and he seems a little awkward.

  ‘You know Sam is coming.’

  I roll my eyes. Of course he does. I had to break it to him earlier.

  ‘He’ll stay out of your way as long as he can keep Jessie in sight,’ Johnny says. ‘So don’t go sneaking into any dark corners.’

  ‘Johnny!’ I squawk. ‘I mean, Dad,’ I mumble.

  Johnny flashes me an amused look. The combination of Jack’s mortified expression and me calling him ‘Dad’ seems to lighten his mood.

  ‘Have you heard Jessie’s track on my album yet?’ Johnny asks Jack, unfolding his arms. He instantly seems more open and friendly.

  ‘No, no, I haven’t,’ Jack replies, shaking his head.

  I had planned to host band practice here one day so my bandmates could hear it, but that hasn’t come about yet. I’m still worried about sounding like I’m boasting, and no one else has brought it up.

  Johnny jerks his head towards his studio at the top of the stairs. ‘You got time?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Jack replies eagerly.

  Johnny leads the way up the stairs. I pinch the tips of Jack’s fingers with mine as we walk side by side. He flashes me a quick smile, but he’s clearly on edge.

  It’s kind of cute that he’s fazed. I’m not sure how much of it is because Johnny is famous and how much of it is because he’s my dad.

  Jack seems properly impressed by the song and my cheeks flush as he smiles at me. I look at Johnny to see that he, in turn, is watching Jack’s reaction, and there’s something about his expression – a certain satisfaction – that makes me think that Jack is passing whatever test he’s unwittingly being put through.

  ‘OK, well, you guys have fun,’ Johnny says when we’re leaving the room.

  ‘Thanks, we will. Hey, can I just show Jack my bedroom?’

  Johnny recoils and Jack looks horrified. I have to laugh.

  ‘You said you wanted to see it,’ I say, looking at Jack.

  ‘Yeah, but—’ He glances at Johnny.

  Johnny’s face breaks out into a grin as he turns and jogs down the stairs. ‘Leave the door open,’ he calls back over his shoulder.

  ‘Did you have to say that?’ Jack hisses, as soon as we’re inside my room.

  I’m trying to stifle a fit of hysteria. ‘The look on your face,’ I say, giggling.

  He roughly shoves his hair back and clamps his hands at the back of his head.

  I grin and wave my arms at our surroundings. ‘Ta-dah!’

  Finally he chills out enough to look around. ‘You weren’t kidding when you said it was called the White Room.’

  The plush carpet is white, the bedspread, pillows and cushions on the enormous bed are white, and the shiny, lacquered wardrobes lining the back wall are also white. But I’ve been trying to accent the white with colour – posters, fairy lights, photo frames. I’ve got a long way to go.

  ‘I think I need to get a new bedspread.’ I sit down and bounce lightly on the bed. Jack stares at me. I pat the space to my right. He glances at the door, then shakes his head.

  ‘I think I’ll stand.’

  I screw up my nose. ‘Are you honestly freaked out about my dad?’

  I spoke in a whisper, but he still looks alarmed and tells me to ‘Shhh!’

  I grin and get to my feet, walking over to him and looping my arms round his neck. His shyness is making me feel bold. He’s tense as I press my lips to his.

  ‘We should get going,’ he murmurs, looking down at me out of the corner of his eye.

  In the end, we decide to ride with Sam. There’s no getting away from the fact that he’s coming with us, so it seems a bit pointless taking two cars.

  The concert is brilliant, but it’s a while before Jack loosens up. He’s sexy as hell when he’s hot and sweaty – we’ve both been jumping along to the music – but, when I turn to face him, he tenses. We just can’t get away from the fact that we’re constantly being watched.

  ‘No one’s going to shoot you for kissing me, you know!’ I shout in his ear, sounding sardonic.

  ‘I’m not taking any chances!’ he shouts back.

  I don’t think this is his idea of how he was expecting our first date to go, and neither, frankly, is it mine.

  I doubt Jack’s other girlfriends have put him through this, and that thought makes me feel uncomfortable. As the night wears on, I’m beginning to realise we need some proper time alone.

  ‘How about I ask Sam to drop me at yours,’ I whisper when we’re sitting in the back of the car, on our way home. His mum and stepdad seem to be a whole lot more laid-back than mine are.

  ‘My car’s at your place,’ he reminds
me.

  ‘You could get a lift over tomorrow to collect it,’ I suggest. ‘In fact, Agnes and I are going for our spa day – maybe she could drop you over in the morning?’

  He stares at me for a long moment and then nods. I lean forward to tell Sam of our change of plans.

  ‘I’ve got orders to get you home by midnight,’ he replies in his deep drawl. I swear he reaches lower octaves than anyone else I know.

  ‘That’s fine.’ It still gives us an hour.

  I’ve completely forgotten about Agnes, of course, but, as soon as we’re out of the car, I remember.

  ‘She’s probably asleep,’ Jack says, but, when we pass her room, the lights are spilling out from under a crack in the door frame. My heart sinks. I love my friend, but she’ll have me for the whole day tomorrow. Still, it feels wrong to sneak past and my conscience gets the better of me. Jack sighs as I knock on her door.

  ‘Who is it?’ she calls.

  I open the door and poke my head round. ‘Me.’

  ‘Hey!’ She’s lying in bed with a book and she sits up, looking happy to see me. ‘Come in!’

  ‘I’ll be in my room,’ Jack says, turning away. I flash a rueful look at his departing back, then go inside and shut the door.

  ‘How was the concert?’ Agnes asks. ‘Nice T-shirt,’ she adds with a smirk.

  ‘I love this one of yours.’ I tell her, perching on the end of her bed. ‘The gig was awesome. They had the most amazing laser display. How are you? What have you been doing tonight?’

  ‘FaceTiming Brett,’ she replies downheartedly.

  ‘Is he missing you?’ I ask.

  She nods sadly. ‘He had to go and do something, but he’s calling me back in a bit.’

  ‘You still on for our spa day tomorrow?’

  ‘Definitely. I can’t wait.’

  ‘Me neither.’

  She smiles at me and nods at the wall that she shares with Jack’s room. ‘It’s OK. You can go.’

  I grin and get to my feet, pressing a kiss to her cheek. ‘It’s been killing us that Sam had to babysit tonight,’ I confess in a rush.

  She grins at me as I back out of the room.

  Jack is playing The Strokes when I walk down the hall. I knock on his door softly, but don’t wait for him to tell me I can go in.

  ‘You were quick,’ he says, seeming surprised. He’s lying on his bed with his arms folded behind his head.

  ‘Your sis is pretty switched on. She could tell I needed some alone-time with you.’

  He props himself up on his elbows. ‘Come here.’

  I don’t need to be asked twice.

  ‘At last,’ he whispers, when I’m finally in his arms. I tilt my face up to his and we kiss, slowly and languidly. His tongue brushes against mine, making me shiver all over. He places one hand on my hip, his thumb slipping beneath my T-shirt to trace the curve of my waist. I breathe in sharply and then my hands are on his taut stomach, wanting to feel the skin under his T-shirt. His kisses become more frenzied, more urgent, and then he roughly manoeuvres me so I’m sitting on top of him. His hands slide up the back of my top and brush over my bra strap. I gasp into his mouth.

  ‘Jack.’

  He doesn’t stop kissing me.

  ‘Jack,’ I say again and he pauses, realising I have something to say.

  ‘What?’ He pulls back so he can look at my face.

  I’ve got to tell him.

  ‘I haven’t gone the whole way with anyone before,’ I whisper.

  His attention sharpens. ‘You’re a virgin?’

  I nod.

  ‘But Tom…’

  I shake my head. ‘We never did it.’

  ‘When you said you were serious about him, I thought… Damn.’ He takes his hands out from under my top and rests them lightly on my hips.

  ‘I’m only fifteen. Well, sixteen now,’ I correct myself, blushing.

  ‘I forget you’re not older,’ he admits with a furrowed brow.

  I tuck my hair behind my ears, looking at him uncertainly, and then I decide that yes, I do want to know, even if I’m not going to like the answer.

  ‘How many girls have you slept with?’

  He takes a deep breath.

  ‘Yes, we really are having this conversation now,’ I tell him drily, mimicking his comment at my birthday party just under a month ago.

  ‘Six,’ he replies on an exhalation of breath.

  ‘Six?!’ I exclaim. ‘Who?’

  Too uncomfortable now to continue sitting astride him, I slide off, perching on the bed at his side.

  ‘Eve,’ he replies, folding his hands behind his head again. ‘You don’t know the others.’

  I feel a small flood of relief. ‘Not Lottie?’

  ‘No!’ he scoffs. ‘Sure, we’ve messed around a bit, but nothing like that.’

  ‘Great,’ I say sarcastically, still not happy to hear from his own lips that he’s made out with her, even though Agnes did warn me. ‘Who was your first?’ I ask.

  ‘A friend of Drew’s,’ he replies.

  ‘Was she older?’ His brother is two years his senior.

  ‘Yeah.’ He shrugs, then frowns, thinking. ‘They’ve all been older, actually.’

  ‘How old is Eve?’

  ‘Nineteen,’ he tells me.

  ‘How old were you when you lost your virginity?’

  ‘Fifteen.’

  That’s younger than I am now, I think dolefully. ‘Were any of the girls you slept with virgins?’

  ‘No.’ He stares at me directly.

  ‘God,’ I mutter, looking at the wall. That’s going to make me seem so inexperienced.

  ‘Are you done with your questions?’ he asks, raising one eyebrow at me as I look back at him.

  ‘I think so.’ For now.

  He gives me a small, thoughtful smile and opens his arms up. I lie down beside him and rest my face against his chest.

  He was surprisingly forthcoming about his answers. I have to give him credit for that. ‘We’ll take it slow,’ he murmurs, holding me tight.

  The scary thing is, I’m not sure I want him to.

  Chapter 14

  ‘How did it go last night?’ Agnes asks with a significant look.

  We’re sitting in the cafe at the spa, both dressed in white dressing gowns and having our second mint tea of the day. I reach for a biscuit and shrug. ‘Fine.’

  ‘I know he’s my brother, but I won’t tell him anything we talk about.’

  ‘Does he confide in you about me?’ I ask candidly.

  ‘No,’ she replies with a shrug. ‘But I can tell he likes you. More than some of the other girls he’s gone out with.’

  I sigh. ‘I like him, too.’ Really like him. ‘But I’m freaking out a bit. If we break up, I can’t see me staying in the band, and that seriously upsets me.’

  ‘God, can you imagine them having to go through that audition process again? Rock on.’

  The thought makes me smile, but I’m morose a moment later.

  ‘Aw,’ she says. ‘Listen, don’t worry about it. Everything works out for a reason, right?’

  I used to think so. But then my mum died and nothing anyone ever says will make me think her death was for the best.

  I don’t say this out loud to Agnes. I just nod agreeably and say, ‘Sure,’ before moving the conversation on.

  Agnes has been noticeably absent from most of the teen girl squad pictures that our famous classmates have posted online. I’ve been wondering if she minds.

  She shakes her head and rolls her eyes when I ask.

  ‘No offence, but most of it’s bullshit. Margarita and Gina are all about the publicity.’

  I’m a little hurt. Is that all Agnes thinks I am to them? A publicity stunt? I thought they liked me.

  ‘Sienna’s not like that, though,’ I say defensively. ‘She’s pretty cool. We’re going shopping this week, actually.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Wednesday. I’m not doing my driving lessons after
school any more so I have some more free time during the week.’

  I say free, but I should be at home revising for my GCSEs, doing my online Driver’s Education course or practising my singing and keyboard skills, but jeez, a girl’s gotta have a break sometime.

  ‘Why have you stopped your driving lessons?’ Agnes asks with a frown.

  ‘I haven’t stopped them. But from this week I’m going to be doing them on the way to school instead.’ I’ve been practising on the driveway in my cool little car and I’m really starting to get the hang of the clutch now. Most teenagers here learn on an automatic, but Johnny was insistent I master ‘a stick’ – the American term for manual cars. Anyway, earlier he suggested I move my lessons to the morning so I can make the most of the journey to school. My driving instructor is an ex-Navy Seal, so Johnny just about trusts him to get me there safely. By the end of this week, I will have clocked up all six of my required hours, but Johnny wants me to keep going. The more practice I get, the better I’ll be when I actually get my provisional licence. I’m lucky he’s happy to pay for my lessons.

  ‘Well, I imagine Sienna can be trusted when it comes to helping you pick clothes,’ Agnes says, pretend huffily. ‘As long as she doesn’t get any ideas about being your stylist.’

  ‘Never,’ I vow.

  A woman in a pristine white uniform comes into the room. ‘Miss Jefferson and Miss Mitchell?’

  I tense at the sound of my name. I know Annie made the booking under Pickerill-Jefferson, but I feel like I’d be making too much of the issue by correcting the woman.

  ‘Yes?’ we say in unison.

  ‘We’re ready for you now.’

  Time for our massages…

  ‘You’re not bothered about Sienna’s sister any more?’ Agnes asks as we follow her.

  ‘A bit,’ I admit. ‘But Johnny hasn’t mentioned her for a while, so I think I’m off the hook.’

  ‘Until the next photo of the two of you gets posted online,’ Agnes points out wryly.