by Jen Calonita
“They have the largest archive of comic books in America,” Jilly said. “There are comic-book classes you can take, a museum of original comic-book art, and a library where you can read everything from Ant-Man to Fantastic Four to Fables.”
“I love Fables,” I said, shocked that Jilly knew the name of a comic-book series about fairy-tale characters who secretly live in New York.
“Then let’s go read some,” Mom suggested, and shockingly, she put her phone on VIBRATE! She never does that. “I told Briggs I’m off duty for a few hours.”
“Can you do that?” I was nervous. The last thing I wanted was for Mom to lose her job.
“Yes,” Mom said with a laugh. “Briggs is going with Zander to his lunch meetings, and the video has to be edited before they can send it over to Today and Z100 for consideration, but if they like it…” Mom exhaled slowly. “Publicity says Elvis Duran might invite the boys on the morning show to play their new single.”
Things were definitely changing for PS now. If Z100 came calling, they could go from a cute opening act to a band that not just Scarlet, Iris, and I loved, but that the whole country swooned over.
It was almost too dizzying to think about.
“Ready?” Mom hiked her purse on her arm and slipped her phone inside.
“I think so,” I said, leaving the screaming girls, Perfect Storm, and the hotel behind for a normal afternoon with my mom. Which wasn’t so normal, when I thought about it. Our new normal involved quick conversations over a bagel for me and a protein bar for her, or the usual “Brush your teeth before bed, Mac” request I got every night at lights-out. I’d fall asleep to the glow of her computer screen as a night-light and Mom still typing away on it in the background.
“Before we go in, I want to apologize to you,” Mom said as we stepped out of the cab in front of Comic Book University. Her brown eyes looked sad. “I thought this trip would be a chance for us to spend more time together, but I feel like I’ve been busier than ever.”
I stopped short in front of the pink building with the slate roof. “Mom, are you kidding? This has been the best trip EVER!” I grabbed her hand and held it, which was something I knew I didn’t do much now that I was older. “I love seeing all these cities, hanging out with Jilly, and seeing what it’s like to be on the road with a soon-to-be-megafamous boy band.”
Mom’s face relaxed. “Good. Sometimes I feel like a rubber band stretched too thin, but as long as you’re having a good time, I’m happy.”
“I am happy, and you know why?” I never answered my own question. I felt the cool rush of the air-conditioning and saw all those comic books waiting for me and forgot everything else. This place had comic-book wallpaper, lithographs, and priceless action figures in glass cases. There was a huge red banner hung across the back wall that said COMIC BOOK UNIVERSITY. Behind it was another room with computers, racks of comic books, and a sign that said COMICS CLASSES IN CLASSROOM #3. I screamed without meaning to.
Mom frowned. “It’s smaller than it looked online.”
Who cares if it was tiny? The place was like my own mini Comic-Con! (You know, before the convention became more about TV shows and movies than comics. Blech.)
We paid the donation fee to the girl at the check-in desk and set out to explore. I showed Mom Fables, Spider-Man Loves Mary Jane, Teen Titans, and The Avengers and told her all about Marvel making Thor a girl in the comics. (Mom said I had lost my mind, but the girl at the desk backed me up.) I was practically floating by the time we reached the tiny gift shop on the way out. Immediately my eyes went to a poster that looked like Thor’s hammer but was really made up of hundreds of tiny comic-book covers. I had to have it.
“Sorry, but he just bought the last two,” the girl at the checkout told me regretfully.
Who had stolen my posters?
The girl pointed over my shoulder. I turned around and dropped my bag. “What are you doing here?”
Kyle was clutching two copies of my poster sheepishly. “Right, well, Jilly said there was a comic-book shop in town, and Heath and I felt we owed you a present for all your help with our homework and that nasty hotel fiasco in Nashville.” He cleared his throat and side-eyed my mother. “So my brother brought me down to the store to find you something.”
Kyle had come all this way to buy me a present? I noticed Kyle’s older brother reading an Ant-Man comic a few aisles away. “That’s so nice of you.” Wow, this place really needed to invest in some air-conditioning!
Kyle was dressed in a vintage Beatles concert T-shirt, khaki shorts, and flip-flops. He looked like any other boy in my middle school, but for some reason I felt a knot form in my stomach when he started talking to Mom. “Hello, Piper,” he said, sounding very proper, like we were out on a date and he was greeting my mom at the door.
OH MY GOD! I can’t believe I just wrote that! WE WERE NOT ON A DATE!
Why would I even think that? And why was I suddenly staring at Kyle, wondering how he’d look in a jacket and tie? I’d seen him wear suits in music videos, but now I was imagining how he’d look in person all dressed up, ringing my doorbell, handing me flowers, and escorting me to my school dance.…
“Mac?” Mom and Kyle were looking at me strangely. “I said, this museum was worth the cab fare. You really liked it, right?”
Oh my God! What was I thinking? My apologies to Zander. “Yes! Sorry! Brain fart,” I sputtered, my cheeks getting redder by the moment. I swear, I don’t ever need to worry about wearing blush. I get embarrassed so often, my cheeks are pink all the time. “I’m surprised Heath didn’t check out this place with you.”
Kyle frowned. “He wanted to—which is why I got him a poster, too—but the mate never handed in his science paper to Krissy. She forced him to go back to the hotel after the event to get it done.”
“That’s too bad,” Mom said. “You boys have been working so hard these last few weeks. Everyone needs a day off.” Mom’s phone was vibrating madly. When she looked at the caller ID, she made her internationally recognized gesture for Must take this (holding up one finger) and rushed to a quiet corner.
Kyle and I were alone. I could feel my palms begin to sweat. My chest felt itchy, like I had poison ivy, and I found myself staring an awfully long time at my beat-up sneakers. I listened to the muffled sounds of a video being played in the background and tried to concentrate on my breathing. What was happening to me?
“I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to finish your song,” Kyle said to break the silence.
“It’s okay. You kind of have a lot going on,” I tried to joke, but I felt nauseous.
“Well, I’m eighty-five percent done,” Kyle said. “Not to be a total bragger, but Heath says the song is aces. I was playing it for him the other night, and he thinks it could actually be a single.” He smiled. “You’re like my own personal Yoko Ono.”
I was Kyle’s Yoko Ono? I giggled awkwardly and pulled at my T-shirt. It was starting to feel very tight. I was definitely getting a rash. “I’m glad to be of help.” Without thinking, I looked up at him. Kyle was wearing a gray suit jacket and a red tie all of a sudden! I blinked. Now he was in a Beatles T-shirt and shorts again. I needed to get some air. “I should probably get Mom and get going. She’s got a lot of work to do.”
“Yes, blimey, she has her hands full!” Kyle said. “Zander was telling us about the Vegas pool party that’s happening the week after next to announce the finalists of the contest.”
“The contest?” I said weakly.
“Yeah, didn’t your mum tell you? They’re making a big announcement about that new fan contest. They’re revealing the ten finalists on our website this evening, and then the top five will be named when we get to Vegas,” Kyle told me, and I felt my blood run cold. “Briggs said girls have asked for everything from a concert at their prom to a date to their school dance.”
Must. Not. Panic. People probably asked PS to school dances all the time.
“I almost forgot. This is for you.”
Kyle held a Thor poster out to me.
I gripped the tube tightly. “Thanks.”
“Thank you for telling Briggs about my songs,” Kyle said.
The funny thing was, it didn’t feel like Kyle from PS had bought me the poster. Kyle the boy who liked songwriting and rhyming and playing the guitar had. The boy who loved sightseeing and could talk for hours about music and my artwork. The boy who was writing a song about me. The boy who…
I can’t believe I’m writing this.
My hand is shaking as I hold the pen over the page.
The boy I want to go with me to my school dance.
Could I like Kyle Beyer?
I think I just might.
Saturday, March 12
LOCATION: On the road to Denver, Colorado
I’m supposed to be working on a paper about the Boston Tea Party while Krissy tests Heath on science stuff. (Krissy: “What is a black hole?” Heath: “What my hotel room smells like after I’ve had bean burritos.”)
I’m glad Krissy is pulling her hair out with Heath, because I’m pulling my hair out about my accidental contest entry, which is sitting at the PS fan club and asks Zander to my school dance instead of Kyle. I’ve got to track it down so there’s no chance of it ever making it into that contest, but how? What would alter-ego Mac do in this situation?
Saturday, March 19
LOCATION: Las Vegas, baby!
After a rocking show in Denver, Colorado, then a trip to Phoenix and a stop at Red Rock State Park for an Arizona magazine photo shoot, we went on to Las Vegas. When we stumbled off the tour bus at three AM, I barely noticed the hotel we were staying in (the Venetian), let alone what city we were in. So when I woke at eleven AM, I ran right to the window and threw open the shades to make sure I had my city right. LAS VEGAS! We were really here! I stared at the famous Las Vegas Strip I’d seen only in pictures. Bellagio’s fountains; Paris Las Vegas, with its Eiffel Tower; New York-New York, with its mini city skyline that reminded me of home. It was like I was visiting the whole world in one small city.
“Morning, sleepyhead!” Mom was putting on earrings as she emerged from the steamy bathroom in a beautiful black tank dress. “You slept like a true rocker.”
“I know,” I said with a satisfied sigh.
Mom sat at the edge of the bed and started to strap on her snakeskin heels. She had a very New York vibe going on. Mom always jokes you can tell the New York tour managers from the Los Angeles ones by the color they’re wearing. New Yorkers always have on black, and Los Angelenos are more colorful. “So first things first, let’s go over today’s schedule.”
“Okay.” I turned toward her and tucked my bare feet under me, pulling on the edges of my pajama bottoms. The air-conditioning was turned up so high I thought I might become an ice sculpture. “Shoot!”
Mom had started giving me the rundown of her schedule before she left in the morning because her days were usually more hectic than she thought they’d be and sometimes I had no clue where she was. Or Mom would have a panic attack because I wasn’t in our room, and it would turn out I was just down the hall in Jilly’s room. So now we have Team Lowell meetings in the morning, and no one feels the need to call the police and file a missing person report (I wasn’t thisclose to doing that in Texas. Nope! Not me!)
“I’ll be with Briggs on the pool deck going over the PS pool party details with the hotel staff,” Mom said.
My stomach began to hurt at the mere mention of the pool party. “Great! Super,” I said, not worried at all. Not. At. All. “How are the finalists? Anyone from New York?” I asked nonchalantly.
“I can’t remember,” Mom said breezily. “I’m sure you’ll find out at the party tomorrow night. The top five finalists will be announced there.” She smiled. “Z100 has been so impressed with how the band’s followers continue to rise that they’ve agreed to have PS on the morning show when we get back to New York. They’ll pick the contest winner on the air!”
“Was there a Sabrina, by any chance?” I pressed. “I know a Sabrina who entered, so…”
“Your friend entered?” Mom asked. “That’s so nice! I’ll keep a lookout for the entry.”
That’s not what I wanted at all. I felt the panic bubbling over from the inside. “No, you don’t have to—”
Mom cut me off. “Don’t you want to hear what you’ll be doing today? I know you like to plan your day, but I have a surprise.”
“Is it a present?” I was momentarily distracted. I love presents! I looked around the room. I didn’t see any wrapped boxes.
“I’m so proud of how you’ve been handling yourself on tour the last few weeks that I thought I’d give you the one thing you want more than anything in the world,” Mom said.
“You already took me on tour with PS. What else could I want?” I gasped. “Are Scarlet and Iris coming to Las Vegas?”
Mom grinned and nodded. “They get in at three PM.”
I can’t even find a way to write down the sound that came out of my mouth next. It was a combination of a fire alarm and a home security system that was accidentally tripped (I’ve set ours off once or twice). “THEY’RE COMING TODAY?”
Short answer: Yes.
The next few hours were a blur. I had to shower, make a welcome sign, and stalk the hotel lobby with Jilly for Scarlet and Iris’s arrival. Mom sent a driver to pick them up at the airport and bring them right to the hotel, and then the next thing I knew, they were pulling up and I was jumping up and down. Scarlet and Iris got out of the car and started screaming, too, and Jilly started screaming supportively, and hotel security walked over and told us we had to keep it down. So we screamed quietly after that, while we all hugged and I made introductions. Scarlet and Jilly started talking about sporty things, because it turns out they both play softball (Is there a sport Jilly doesn’t play?), while Iris brought me up to speed on the drama at our tae kwon do center. Riley Pierce had been bragging about going for her black belt, when we were sure she’d skipped a belt along the way.
Seconds later Scarlet grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me straight in the eyes. “Where are they? Did you tell them your friends were coming? Does Heath know my name?”
Iris swatted her. “Scar! We haven’t even had time to catch up with Mac yet. PS can wait.” Iris’s right eye started to twitch, which was how I knew she was lying. “Although, if you wanted to get the introductions over with, that would be okay, too. I know Zander is yours, but…”
“Zander is not mine,” I said quickly.
“… I still want to meet him,” Iris went on, not hearing me. “I’m happy for you, and I know I’ll find my own Zander someday, or maybe, who knows? You’ll be with Zander, and Scarlet will be with Heath, and maybe I’ll like Kyle,” she said brightly.
“No!” I blurted out. Scarlet and Iris looked at me strangely. “I just mean, Kyle is really funny and sensitive, while Zander is more about his work and his fans and…”
Iris and Scarlet looked from me to Jilly for help. She shrugged. “Kyle and Mac like each other. They just don’t seem to realize it yet.”
“Who wants to go on a gondola ride?” I suggested loudly, forgetting we were in a large Las Vegas lobby with loads of people and crazy acoustics. The floors were marble, and there was a river that ran through the hotel. “They look like fun.”
“A boat ride can wait.” Scarlet unbuttoned her sweater to reveal a HEATH CAN’T BE BEAT T-shirt. “What’s up with you and Kyle? What happened to Zander? And more importantly, can I meet Heath? PLEASE, Mac? PLEASE?” Scarlet never begged.
Jilly started to laugh. “Mac, they sound just like you did when you first got on the road. Let’s drop off their luggage and find Mikey G. to see where the guys are.”
Note to self: If you’re ever wondering where a boy is, the first thing you should think about is food. Boys are always hungry.
Zander, Kyle, and Heath were having a mini meeting with Briggs in the Venetian’s food court. They had a whole section to themselves,
since Mikey G. was blocking a group of girls from trying to make their way to the table. Cell phones were held high in the air to take the guys’ pictures.
Iris dug her nails into my bare arm and squealed. “OhmyGodthat’sZanderrightthereatthattableandhe’seatingnongreenfood!”
Zander looked up and grinned. “Hey, Mac. Jilly. Ladies. You must be Mac’s friends.”
Iris pushed past me. “WemetinNewYorkbackstageatSongSlammynameisIris.” She giggled uncontrollably as Zander walked over and pulled her in for a hug.
“Nice to see you again, Iris,” Zander said. He was wearing a vintage Studio B tee he got in Nashville. “You have amazing brown eyes. They look like Nesquik syrup.”
“I love Nesquik syrup!” Iris gushed.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen Iris swig chocolate milk in her life, but whatever.
“So are you girls sitting in the VIP area for the show tomorrow night?” Zander asked. “Mac got you seats, didn’t she?”
“I didn’t know if there were VIP tickets left,” I admitted. “The last two shows I’ve had to watch from the backstage monitor because Lola Cummings had so many guests.”
Jilly, Scarlet, and Iris scowled as any good friend would at the mention of someone’s mortal enemy.
“Well, I’ll tell Lola she has four less tickets for the Hard Rock show,” Zander said. “Iris and Scarlet deserve the best seats in the house if one of them is going to be called onstage during ‘I Feel Blue.’”
Iris gasped.
“You guys have heard how well it’s doing, right? One of the top fifty downloads on iTunes right now.”
“We just knew PS was going to be famous!” Iris squealed. “We’ve been fans forever!”
“I love hearing that.” Zander grinned. “And if that’s the case, maybe you can help us.” He put an arm around each of them and led them to the table. “We’re trying to narrow down the finalists in this contest we’re running.”
