Becky Wicks - Before He Was A Secret (Starstruck #3)

by Becky Wicks

  ‘Not at all.’ He motions us towards to the fire but Travis is walking over to us now. He takes off his hat and I can almost see Stephanie bristle as he stands in front of her in his too-tight, too-expensive black jeans and too-tight shirt.

  ‘I remember you,’ he says.

  She raises her eyebrows. ‘Really? Do you remember being such an arrogant, pushy asshole that Conor here had to pull you off me outside my work?’

  He looks to floor awkwardly. Damn, she’s pissed. ‘Yeah… about that night,’ he says, looking between us both and Pete. ‘I apologize. I’d been at a gig and some label exec was giving us shots…’

  ‘That’s no excuse.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You were rude and out of line… and obnoxious,’ Stephanie says, stepping closer to him. ‘You had no right propositioning me on the street when you don’t even know me. Forcing me up against that door…’

  ‘Like your boyfriend here forced me up against that door,’ he follows, shooting me a wry smile and putting his hat back on. ‘I remember that much.’

  ‘He’s not my boyfriend. And just so we're clear, you deserved it.' Her voice is low and angry and I can tell the other people sitting round the fire are probably wondering what the hell is going on. I step between them, clear my throat.

  ‘Let’s just say what happened happened and there’s nothing we can do about it now,’ I say quickly. ‘We’re all here to make music, right?’ I gesture to the guitar on my back, to the other instruments and the people holding them. It doesn’t look much like anybody wants to fight.

  Stephanie turns to Pete again. ‘Why didn’t you text me?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Travis cuts in, putting a hand to her arm. ‘Why don’t I just leave? I didn’t mean to cause any trouble…’

  ‘Or we can go,’ I add.

  ‘No,’ Stephanie says, taking one of the beers that Pete’s now handing us and sighing. She looks between us all, eyes narrowed. ‘We’ll all stay. He’s apologized.’ She turns to Travis. ‘I just didn’t expect to see you here, that’s all. Or anywhere.’

  ‘Can we start over?’ he says. He holds his beer out to me. ‘You too, man.’

  I nod my head, clink my beer to his and then swig from it. We all look to Stephanie. She raises her bottle but doesn’t clink it and Travis grins, tips his hat again in typical charming cowboy style. ‘I’ll take that as you half forgive me,’ he says, before Pete motions us all over to the fire. I reach for Stephanie’s elbow before she can follow them.

  ‘Are you sure you want to stay?’ I whisper.

  She scrunches up her face. ‘Did I just react like a crazy person?’ She looks embarrassed now and I smile. She looks kind of cute when she's pissed.

  ‘No, the guy was a jerk that night. I saw him with my own eyes, don’t worry yourself.’

  ‘He just assumed he knew me, ‘cause of that stupid TV show,’ she says and I watch her eyes flit to him and Pete taking their seats again. ‘I hate that.’

  ‘I can tell,’ I say. I’m starting to see how much. The real issue isn’t so much Travis, here, I think, but the fact that he believed a bunch of media-manipulated rumors about her and then acted on them. She’s been getting attention for all the wrong things since she left that island. That’s what bothers her. ‘Do you wish you never applied for that show?’ I say.

  ‘No.’ She shakes her head, runs a finger round her beer bottle, looks up at me. ‘If I hadn’t gone to that island, I would never be here now. This is where I should be, Conor. Today proved it.’

  ‘I hope it did,’ I reply, reaching impulsively to brush her bangs aside. 'You deserve to be here, Jackson.'

  She looks startled for a second, meets my eyes again and another moment passes between us under the smoky, blackening sky. It sets my heart thumping along with the bass now sounding out with the guitars. Damn. There’s something about this girl that makes me forget I’ve been walking on eggshells for so long and just pulls me hard in like a magnet.

  I follow her to the fire, take a seat opposite hers. I notice mason jars hanging from ropes on the back porch. They’re already flickering with candles inside. We’re introduced to Buck, Declan and Dacey, who motion for me to join in with my guitar and it’s not long till we’re all jamming to The Blues Travellers and Stephanie’s being encouraged by Dacey to sing. I see everyone’s eyes widen when they hear how good she is, just like mine probably did this morning.

  I notice Travis lean forward instantly, further over his guitar towards her. He’s watching only Stephanie’s lips, her face, her eyes closing in the firelight as she harmonizes effortlessly with Dacey. I could listen to her all night. ‘Damn, girl, you’re good,’ he enthuses when the song draws to an end. ‘You play too?’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  Pete hands her a guitar. ‘I haven’t heard her yet,’ he says. ‘Hums her ways around the Rack every shift but I never knew she was a superstar. Show us one of your own?’

  Dacey and the others whistle and egg her on, but as Stephanie takes the guitar from him, she looks to me. ‘Actually,’ she says, eyes twinkling now, ‘Conor helped me finish one of my songs today. It’s a million times better with his voice on top.’

  ‘We haven’t tried with two guitars yet,’ I explain, taking off my hat and rushing a hand through my hair as Pete hands her a pick.

  ‘First time for everything,’ Travis says as Stephanie starts to play. I start picking over her chords after the intro, adding a whole new sound.

  If you think I’ll be staying home and cooking supper

  Saying no to invitations as I turn into your mother…

  A sudden audience forces Stephanie and I to turn the whole song into some kind of performance somehow. We spark off each other’s expressions as we sing the words we’ve been practicing all day, acting like two people who really do want to throw off every rule society’s ever made and run away. We lose ourselves in the harmonies, in the act itself I think, but when we finish on the G chord, everyone claps hard, pulling us back to the moment. Travis stands up and offers us both a high five. Stephanie returns it, surprisingly. She’s smiling at me.

  ‘How long did it take you to write that?’ Travis asks her, blocking me from her view and folding his thick, muscly arms across his broad chest.

  ‘Not that long, it just kind of… happened,’ she says, adjusting her ponytail and taking another beer from Pete.

  ‘Do you have many more? Just you this time.’

  ‘I have one I’ve been working on,’ she says. ‘I only have a verse and a chorus… I kind of had the tune already, but the words came to me in the car today.’

  I shoot her a look of surprise and she smiles, puts her bottle on the grass and starts to play again. One by one, everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at her.

  You said

  A star only shoots when it’s ready to die

  And it’s hard to believe we can lie here

  And watch all their suicides light up the sky

  But the ones that still sparkle

  Are holding on tight

  And we take them for granted

  When day turns to night

  But you said

  There’s a time when we all have to learn

  How to shine

  So we’ll shine as we breathe and we’ll shine as we break

  And we’ll shine

  Shine

  Shine

  And the world needs our light

  So we all have to fight

  Till we shine

  I can’t take my eyes off her as she sings in the firelight. There's never been anything sexier than a girl who knows how to play, but this one; she's like some rare diamond dug up from some forgotten mine. All she has to do is open her mouth and even more gems flood out. I'm surprised she wasn't snapped up by a label years ago, but then, I guess there aren't too many operating in Homewood, Alabama.

  The song is catchy and sweet and I join in, picking the strings of my Martin along with her strumming and we all
bash our hands together and clap her when she’s done. ‘More!’ Travis yells out and she grins as he slaps his knee. ‘More, more, more, shiny girl!’

  ‘Didn’t you win the last songwriter of the year?’ I say to him, putting my guitar down as Stephanie does the same and taking another beer. ‘Maybe you should play something?’

  He ignores me.

  ‘We’ll have more soon,’ Stephanie tells him. ‘Apparently we’re trying out for a round at the Bluebird, next audition.’ She throws me a grin around the fire. I can feel her confidence growing by the second and weirdly, so is mine. She’s incredible. Amazing. She made that up in the damn car? I thought she was quiet.

  ‘The Bluebird. Nice,’ Travis says, refusing a beer as it’s offered to him. ‘Plenty try, plenty fail.’

  ‘I think she’s good enough,’ I add.

  He raises his eyebrows at me. ‘I think she’s good enough for more than the Bluebird.’

  ‘Well, we’re a team now,’ Stephanie tells him. ‘Me and Conor.’

  ‘You and Conor,’ Travis replies thoughtfully as he sits back down. ‘Noted.’ But he’s still looking at me and I don’t miss the tone in his voice as he contemplates his overly-shiny boots and throws a stick into the fire.

  7.

  Stephanie

  One week later

  ‘Knight of Swords in your obstacle position,’ Tal says, scrutinizing the Celtic Cross tarot spread in front of us in the couch fort. ‘Interesting.’

  ‘What does that mean, oh mystic one?’ E-beth asks, scooping more Häagen-Dazs into her mouth and handing me the tub.

  ‘This is a young guy who loves the sound of his own voice. He’s very sure of his own opinions and not afraid to voice them, in any situation. He could lead to trouble.’ Tal looks at me conspiratorially. ‘And here, in your conscious position you have the High Priest, Stephanie, which indicates you may experience pressure from a strong religious or cultural belief system.’ She raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Have you been going to church?’

  I laugh, shake my head. ‘Not like I did in Homewood,’ I say, but as I scoop the ice-cream from the tub I can’t help thinking that the Knight of Swords could be Travis. ‘He came into the restaurant again today,’ I tell them now.

  ‘Travis Flynn?’ E-beth rolls to her back on the cushions, mimes her heart exploding out of her chest. ‘He’s so on my laminated list... have you seen his ass in jeans?

  'Laminated list?' I say.

  'Sounds like a list you have to keep covered in case your lustful bodily fluids seep all over it,' Tal says in a low, porn-star voice and I pull a face. So does E-beth.

  'You're gross,' she says, sitting back up. 'It's a set list of people you're allowed to sleep with even if you're in a relationship. Him, Jude Law, Charlie Hunnam, Robert Pattinson... all on mine. Hotties with awesome ass and accents. Is Travis still trying to convince you to write with him?’

  I can't help the look that must be on my face. ‘Yes, and he’s not hot,' I say. 'Scratch him off your list, Beth, he was a chauvinistic pig when we first met.’

  ‘We can’t excuse what he did,’ E-beth says, sternly. ‘But he apologized. And he has splendid forearms… and Stephanie, he has contacts. Aren’t HotFlush fixin' to sign him?’

  I roll my eyes. ‘I don’t know,’ I say, as she starts singing the song he’s most famous for – the one he won the contest for.

  Travis has been in to see me every shift I’ve worked this past week; brought his guitar, sat in the corner and strummed, refusing to leave. No one can make him. His little fans have started to come sit with him in the corner booth and Gretchen thinks he’s good for business. He sings me lyrics he’s just made up, asks me to rate them whenever I pass. Like yesterday:

  ‘She’s ignoring me, but she’s so not boring me, she’s the hottest girl in town who keeps on putting me down…’

  ‘Four out of ten,’ I told him. I couldn’t help smiling. He’s a chauvinistic pain in the ass, yes, but he’s persistent.

  ‘Just four? Woman, that took me ten whole minutes!’

  ‘I told you, there’s not much to write about in here. You need to leave town.’

  ‘She’s sending me away, every single day, oh sweet lord I pray that one day I can stay…’

  ‘OK, stop!’ I said then and he tilted his hat the way he does, shot me that grin – the one I’m sure makes other girls melt. ‘That’s definitely a two,’ I added. ‘Two and a half if you tip me properly for those fries.’

  ‘Write with me!’ he called as I turned my back to collect another order. I have to admit, he’s kind of amusing at times. Even Indie Pete cracks a smile at some of the stupid stuff he comes up with. He makes it awful on purpose.

  ‘Don’t do it,’ Tal’s saying now, leaning against the couch cushions and studying the cards again. ‘With Travis, I mean. You see this - the Knight of Wands, in your future position?’ She holds up a card featuring a man on a horse. ‘This is one passionate and intense dude. In matters of work, this card represents promotions and success. This is your future. But only if you stay away from trouble.’

  ‘Is Conor passionate and intense enough for you, Stephanie?’ E-beth asks, grinning.

  I take the tub again and stick my spoon in it. 'Not as passionate as your quest,' I tell her, scooping up the ice-cream. E-beth has a guy she calls 'the quest,' as in she's still on a mission to get him to notice her. He's a British musician who gigs in a bar near her work and apparently he cries when he sings. Literally cries.

  It’s only five p.m and the light is shining through the blanket over our fort, but we’ve bunkered down like kids at a sleepover. It’s the first time we’ve all been together in the house in a while. I’ve been working most days and practicing with Conor at Fret every night this week. When he locks the doors we have our pick of guitars, so it makes more sense to write there.

  Mostly our songs have been fast-paced, catchy, like the first one. We’ve almost mastered another one we’ve co-written, called Stars. He makes things feel easy; draws the words and music out of me almost effortlessly till we never even know who’s written which parts. There have been nights we’ve worked till three a.m, but it’s strictly business, we both know that. The auditions are a week away.

  ‘His music is passionate and intense,’ I say, as my mind replays watching his fingers work the strings lovingly on a copycat Fender Strat; that big smile stretching across his face; the way time flies when we sing. I notice Tal shaking her head at me. ‘What?’ I say.

  ‘I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Steph. You know about him and Grace…’

  ‘His ex? They broke up.’

  She adjusts her glasses on her nose. ‘So you said, but I don’t think anyone’s supposed to know about that yet.’

  My breath catches as E-beth looks up from the playlist she's creating on her laptop. ‘What do you mean?’

  Tal looks awkward, hugs a cushion to her. ‘I didn’t want to say anything, it’s not my place, but you’re spending all this time together and you can say what the hell you want, but I know you like him…’

  ‘He’s a cutie,’ E-beth says. ‘I stalked him on Facebook.’ She snaps the laptop shut, picks up a packet of roast beef Monster Munch crisps - another treat from the box of English snacks a relative of hers shipped to the house.

  I sigh. ‘Why would his break up be a secret?’

  Tal shrugs. ‘I don’t know, but Grace’s father is the Pastor at the World of Hearts Christian Center – it’s a weird church out near their farm. I used to go a lot. My cousin’s still a member. Trust me, she would’ve told me if she’d heard about a break up. Everyone knows Conor and Grace.’

  ‘Weird church?’ I say. Hearing their names banded together over and over is making me a little nauseous, but I say nothing, motion for her to keep on talking.

  ‘You need to ask Conor about that,’ Tal continues mysteriously. ‘They got together when she was super young, but her mom was in some kind of scandal. It almost tore the community apart.’
<
br />   ‘What kind of scandal?’

  Tal leans closer. ‘She ran away with some cowboy, just disappeared one day, left a note to say she couldn’t live that life anymore and that they shouldn’t try to look for her. She refused to have anything to do with Grace or her father, or worse, the church. But the church shunned her anyway, for the affair. She probably couldn’t have come back, even if she wanted to.’

  ‘Hussy!’ E-beth cries and I shoot her a look, but she grins at me, biting into a chip. ‘What? She’s great material. I’m making mental notes for my novel, keep talking.’

  ‘Conor had just got together with Grace when it happened,’ Tal goes on, ‘but after that they were inseparable for years.’

  ‘Seven,’ I say, feeling my chest start to tighten and the fort walls close in.

  ‘Right. I think everyone thought they’d announce their engagement this summer. They always go away on some annual trip, someplace expensive.’ She looks at me over her glasses. ‘I guess Conor found something better to do this time round.’

  ‘We’re just friends,’ I repeat.

  ‘It’s not my place to get involved!’ She grabs the chips from E-beth’s lap now. ‘But just watch your back, OK? There’s a reason he hasn’t announced it yet, right? The break up, I mean. And I don’t mean to freak you out, but what were we just saying about experiencing pressure from religious nuts?’

  ‘The cards didn't say that, and anyway they’re just cards,’ E-beth says, rolling her eyes. ‘Come on, Tal, don’t freak her out!’

  ‘I’m not freaked out by anything,’ I lie. I feel sick now, looking at the spread. I don’t miss the card that shows a woman tied up in ropes with a blindfold on either. She hasn’t brought that one up yet and I don’t want her to. It's probably about the damn piano. I still can't go into the sun-room.

  I’m supposed to be heading to Fret to write in a matter of hours, but on top of everything else, now I'm also thinking Conor and I have been doing something seriously wrong, or sneaky, ever since he took me for those stupid buttermilk biscuits by the river.