She smiled. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Lacey,” I said, because I was genuinely worried that my head might explode or fall off or something, “I have to go.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“But…we’re listening.”
“I know.” I had to get away. “Sorry. But I have a bus to catch.”
“Can’t you get the next one?”
“No. I said I’d be home at six. It’s the chart announcement.”
“Good luck,” said Lacey. “Not that you need it.”
Death by Vending Machine
You can die by duvet
Or pillowcase
You can die from a storm
If you’re in the wrong place
You can die from bouncing off
a trampoline
Or being crushed by a candy vending machine
You can die by wasp
You can die by bee
You can die from slipping
On a single pea
Or getting caught in the wheels of a pink limousine
Or being crushed by a candy vending machine
You can die onstage
Or in your room
You can die of guilt
You can die of gloom
You can die of regret for what might have been
Or being crushed by a candy vending machine
Twenty minutes later, I was curled up on the front seat of the bus with my head resting on the window, its frame vibrating against my cheek. I had my lyric book out, but for some reason, the page kept filling up with curly K’s, plus the occasional aramel. All right, more than occasional.
“What are you writing?”
Jaz had strayed from her usual back-seat territory to come and peer over my shoulder.
“Just songs,” I said, moving my palm to cover the page. Which, to any normal person, would have been a signal that my words were private and not to be looked at.
Unfortunately, while Jaz had clearly noticed part one of the signal, part two was not on the agenda. She shoved my hand out of the way and stared.
“Why do you keep writing the word Karamel?”
“That doesn’t say Karamel,” I said.
We both looked at the ink scribbles. It very obviously did say Karamel.
“Because I hate them so much.”
Jaz didn’t seem very satisfied with this explanation. “Are you secretly obsessing about Karamel?”
“Lay off, Jaz. I’m not secretly anything.”
“Touchy.”
“I am not being touchy!” It came out disturbingly high, like I’d sucked in helium. Which Amanda had done once, at my cousin Dean’s wedding, and then freaked out about it and had a very squeaky panic attack. “I’m so not!”
Clearly sensing she was on to something, Jaz leaned in.
“Ve-ery touchy.”
Time to do some damage control. I straightened my features and pushed back my hair and cleared my throat. “Jaz. Listen. I know you like a little bit of scandal, and I get that you think you’re onto something here. But, if you remember, I hate Karamel. Really hate them. I hate them so much that I wrote a song about exactly how much I hate them, which is a lot.”
“Fair enough,” said Jaz.
“Good. I’m glad we got that straightened out.”
The bus rumbled along for a while, and I allowed myself to relax. The car behind us honked. And I was just feeling my cheeks get back to a normal kind of temperature when:
“I’m just saying,” said Jaz. “If there’s anything you want to get off your chest…”
“There isn’t!” I said.
“Because if there is…?”
“There is not.”
“Are you sure?” said Jaz.
“I am sure.”
“Really sure?”
And then, I knew it was crazy, and I knew I shouldn’t, but I had to tell someone…because it was too difficult to keep it all secret, like I was a glass, and someone was pouring water into me, more and more and more until I was overflowing. Jaz had probably figured it out by now anyway with her weirdo psychic Jaz skills. Plus, saying it out loud just felt right.
“And they began to play, and I realized I’d heard them lots of times, but I’d never really heard them. And then I did, and it was amazing! Like nothing I’ve ever felt before, Jaz. It was mind-blowing. My mind was blown. Is blown! It was like…like religion or something! They are so incredibly talented! Like, a zillion times more than anyone else in the world who’s ever lived! The stuff they can do…the sound they make…and Kurt, he’s kind, and he’s funny, and he’s so, so sweet. You know, he didn’t have to forgive me for hating on him. It really upset him. But he did because he’s a decent person. And as far as the rest of the world is concerned I can’t stand Karamel, when in fact I can’t seem to stop obsessing about them. Oh, Jaz, what am I going to do?”
“Yeah, I was not expecting that,” said Jaz.
• • •
When I got home, Dad was in the kitchen, digging through a pile of takeout menus.
“Katie, what would you like for dinner tonight?”
“Er. It’s just, we’re kind of waiting for the big announcement. About the whole chart thing. So I’m a little…”
“Food’s on me! Anything you’re craving?”
I was feeling more sick than hungry, so I just said, “Chinese please. Actual takeout, not from the store.”
“Done! Where’s your mother?”
“Here,” said Mom, taking off her jacket. “I’ve just got a text from Ade. He’s stuck in traffic. He’ll be back in a sec, and…will you please get off me, Benjamin?”
“Zoe, don’t say I never spend money on you!” He had his hand on her waist. “What would you like, my princess? Anything at all.”
Mom’s eyes said she’d like for Dad to go away, but she said, “Chinese takeout is fine.”
“Chinese takeout it is!” He spun her in a little circle. Or at least he tried to. Mom wasn’t really having it, so he got her halfway around, and then she bumped into the oven. “Sorry, Zo.”
A big sigh.
“And look,” he said. “This is…important. It’s meant a lot, you giving me a place to stay. Really, it has.”
Mom mumbled something that might have been, “S’okay.”
“And I know we’re family, and you’d always do it for me…”
Another sigh.
“But still. I appreciate it, my darling. Now will you take this and go buy yourself something nice?”
And—whoa—he handed her this huge wad of cash.
Mom was as shocked as I was. So shocked, in fact, that at first she didn’t say anything but just made fish faces. Then, finally, she said, “Benj. This is…too much.”
He dipped his head. “I owe you.”
“Well, yes, you probably do, in fact. You definitely do. But this, this is”—she thumbed through it—“thousands.”
“A couple of thousand. Don’t spend it all at once! Or do! Take yourself into town. Dress up nice for a change. Speaking of which…” He leaned down behind the table and lifted up this enormous cardboard box. “Here, Katie. For you.”
“Right.” Then, as I clocked what was written on the box—which was the word Gibson, I said, “Seriously? Like, seriously?”
“Open it!” said Dad, with that expression I recognized from Christmas morning.
I tore into the box. And there, nestled down under a ton of packing material…was quite literally the most beautiful guitar I’d ever seen.
“Oh my God, Dad. Oh my God.”
“You like?”
I threw my arms around him. “I love it. And I love you.”
“I have something for your sister too.” He hesitated, then took
a little box out of his pocket. A little box in Tiffany blue. Wow. He really had gone shopping. “Do you think you could give it to her for me?”
“Of course,” I said, and then, when Mom headed to the bathroom, I caught his arm. “Hey, I’m so glad you talked to Catriona.”
“I…uh…no problem. Anything for my little superstar.”
“I’m not a superstar yet.”
“You’re going to be number one,” said Dad. “I just know it.”
“I’d be happy with top twenty,” I said.
“Number one,” said Dad. “Come on, Katie. Dare to dream! And let’s get this Chinese ordered, okay? Always takes longer than they say, and I’m starving.”
I’d just opened the menu and was trying to decide whether Dad’s newfound generosity would stretch to beef in black-bean sauce and chicken-and-shrimp chow mein when the front door slammed in that heavy way that meant it was—
“Ade,” said Mom.
“Haveyouheardanynewspleasetellme,” I blurted out.
“Let the man take off his jacket,” said Mom.
Which I did, and it took about a hundred years.
“They beat me, didn’t they? Tell me that it was close at least.”
“Chillax,” said Adrian, despite some very specific instructions from me never to use that word. “It’s not out yet. Tony’s going to text me. But, look, whatever happens now, I want you to know how proud I am. How proud we all are.”
“Yes, yes,” I said. Then, because that sounded a bit ungrateful, I added, “And thank you. For supporting me. I know I’ve made things difficult recently. And, you know, not only recently. But anyway. Thank you.”
“You’ve been standing up for what you believe,” said Adrian. “Of course it’s difficult. But it’s worth doing.” He glanced at the clock. “Any minute now.”
Mom took my hand.
Dad took my other hand.
Ding!
Adrian picked up the phone, his forehead creasing.
“Well? Well? Tell me! Actually, don’t tell me. I can’t stand it. No, do tell me. Tell me!”
“Katie,” said Adrian. “Karamel’s single debuted at number two.”
“And?”
“And yours is at number seventy-eight.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s exactly what I was expecting. It’s completely fine.”
Three concerned faces stared across the table at me, like a group of sad owls.
“I mean, come on!” I told them. “They’re a hugely successful boy band with gazillions of fans. I’m just me. There was no way I was ever going to even come close to winning this.”
Mom went to squeeze my shoulder, and then she saw my face and thought better of it.
“You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”
“Love,” said Mom. “This industry, I don’t want to see you hurt…”
“I’m not hurt,” I said. “I am annoyed. But I always knew this would happen. Can we please not talk about it anymore?”
“Well…” Mom began.
“I mean it,” I said. After all, how could she even begin to understand? She didn’t get it. She couldn’t get it. Not her and not Adrian. In fact, there was only one person who could.
“Dad. I—”
He looked away. “I’ll go pick up that Chinese? Won’t be gone long, it’s, what, ten minutes’ walk? Not paying the delivery charge if I don’t have to.”
“Okay. But maybe don’t get anything for me. Turns out I’m not hungry.”
I walked very slowly up to my room.
Then I sat down at my desk and burst into tears.
• • •
There’s a reason that people in movies generally cry while facedown on a bed or sliding down the back of a door.
You don’t see them crying onto a desk, and that’s because, as I quickly discovered, crying directly onto a desk is incredibly uncomfortable. Plus, when I finally sat up, I found that I’d been leaning on a red felt-tip pen, and it looked like my cheek had been burned.
The best music had won.
I’d known it when Lace and I had listened to my song on the steps. Heck, I’d known it the second Kurt had opened his mouth at the Karamel concert.
What should I do now?
What could I do now?
I could tell the world that I’d changed my mind. No, not changed my mind. That when I’d written “Can’t Stand the Boy Band” I hadn’t known what I was talking about.
That was Old Katie. New Katie had seen Karamel play.
She was converted. New Katie loved Karamel.
Then, I’d shake their hands, if they’d let me, and…
Ding!
Just heard. Coming over
Lacey. My best, best, best friend. She’d stick with me. She’d understand that everyone makes mistakes.
Ding!
Just heard am coming over
So loyal that she’d sent the same text twice!
Plus, it would be good to come clean with Lace. Once she’d forgiven me, it would make our friendship even stronger.
That’s the thing about me and Lace. We’ve had our ups and downs, for sure, and the downs have been really bad. But it’s what makes the rest of the time together so great. Like, for example, when we had that monster argument over who copied whose Julius Caesar essay. Now that we’re over it, we’re better friends than ever. Even though, come to think of it, she never did admit that she’d stolen her introduction from me, and to be honest, it’s still a tiny bit annoying.
Bang, bang, bang!
Lacey was thumping on the front door. I scampered down the stairs and opened it, arms wide for a full-on hug, and:
“Hi,” said Jaz.
“What? What are you doing here?”
“I texted,” said Jaz.
“No,” I told her. “Lacey texted. Lacey is on her way over.”
“Hi,” said Lacey, coming up the driveway. “What? Why so surprised? Didn’t you get my message? And what’s she doing here?”
“Supporting Katie,” said Jaz.
“I’m supporting Katie,” said Lacey. “Ugh! What happened to your cheek? Is that a burn?!”
Unscheduled gatherings are normally a complete no-no. I thought Mom would probably cut me some slack, given current events, but I still made sure to get everyone upstairs and into my bedroom as quickly as possible.
“It’s just disgusting,” said Lacey as I closed the door behind her. “They can’t be content with winning. They have to crush you. How dare they? How actually dare they?”
“It’s not their fault,” I said. “They have a huge fan base, and they’re really g… Some people think they are really good.”
“You should have won,” said Lacey.
“Nah,” I said.
“You’re so real and true, and they’re just this manufactured…”
“It is a little unfair,” I said. “I mean, talk about David and Goliath.”
“Are David and Goliath in Karamel?” said Jaz. “I thought they all began with a K.”
“You know nothing,” said Lacey.
Jaz didn’t flinch. “I know more than you think,” she said.
Lacey gave her a superior smile. “Hey, look, Jaz, it’s great that you’re here, but me and Katie, we’re best friends, and we have some stuff we need to talk about.”
Jaz picked up my liquid eyeliner and gazed down at the bottle. “Oh, so now you’re here for her, are you?”
“Yes. I am.”
“Now that you can pity her?”
This is why it’s important to keep friends as separate as possible. Ideally on different continents. Mind you, the way Lacey was looking at Jaz at that moment, even continents wouldn’t have been enough to stop World War III starting. Different planets?
“You are pois
on, you know that, Jaz?”
“Lacey…” I began.
“Fine,” said Lacey. “But she is.”
I have to say that Jaz wasn’t at all bothered by Lacey’s accusations. She just sat there, using my liquid eyeliner to give my Amy Winehouse poster a mustache.
“They just made an announcement,” said Lacey, reading from her phone. “‘Peace and love to all our fans who bought the single and to all who bought Katie Cox’s song. The music lives forever. Xo.’ That is rude!”
“Um, yeah. So rude.”
Lacey lay back on my bed and twiddled her hair. “You know what? I think I’m starting to get why you’re so annoyed by them.”
This was it. The moment to come clean. “Lacey?”
“Yes?”
I must have said it in a fairly significant-sounding way because she sat up and let her hair drop.
The words were all ready, lined up in neat rows inside my mouth, like a little wordy army, poised to fight for the truth.
And they did come out. But not from me. “Katie has something to tell you,” said Jaz.
“What?” I said.
“What?” said Lacey.
“I’m surprised she hasn’t said it already. Given that you’re ‘best friends.’”
“I’m sure she did tell me,” said Lacey. “Katie tells me everything.”
“Did she tell you that she’s in love with Karamel?” said Jaz.
“What?” said Lacey.
Which is when I knew I couldn’t say it. Not here.
Not now.
“Of course I’m not in love with Karamel. Jaz, you are not making any sense. Where would you even get that from?”
Jaz’s face hardened. And it was pretty hard already. “Cool. I’ll just let you go on with it then.”
“Go on with what?”
“Living your lie.”
“I’m not living a lie.”
“Go away, Jaz,” said Lacey. “Get back to wherever it is you came from and leave me and my BFF alone.”
Jaz’s head swiveled from me to Lacey and back again, and she blinked a couple of times, but she didn’t seem even slightly phased. That’s the thing about Jaz. You can’t hurt her. She’s made of whatever they use to line saucepans.
“I’m leaving,” she said.
“Good,” said Lacey.
Katie Cox vs. the Boy Band Page 13
