King of Hearts

by R H Tucker

  I’m perplexed but amused. Letting out a chuckle, I take the seat next to her. She does the same thing to her other shoe and brings her legs up to sit over them. Picking up the wine bottle, she motions it to me, and I shake my head no. She lifts her shoulders and pours herself a glass of what looks to be white wine. Instead of taking a drink, she pauses and stares out through the sliding glass doors and the night sky.

  It’s odd. She’s sitting next to me in her designer crop top with an image of Abbey Road. I’m sure if I asked her what that is, she wouldn’t have the first clue that it’s the Beatles. She just calls things cute. Her ripped, light blue, skinny jeans give her the “grunge look,” as she likes to call it. I haven’t seen her wear these ones, but she’s worn black and red ones in the past. And the heels aren’t elegant, but they look expensive. A pearl white, they’d lift her about two inches off the ground with a single strap around the heel and two wider ones that cover the arch of her foot. Her hair still has the curls, making the blondness seem to bounce with the city lights seeping into the room. I’ve seen it all before, but right now she looks different. She seems different.

  “It’s quiet,” she says in a low voice. For a moment, I think it’s a hint. That maybe she wants the TV on or for me to say something. “Sometimes, the quiet is nice,” she adds.

  Taking a sip from her glass, she finally looks over at me. “So?”

  I glance back, confused. “So what?”

  “Are you gonna tell me what has you all Mr. Grumpy Pants? It can’t be me because when I usually annoy you, I’ve already talked your ear off for thirty minutes, or I’m begging you to kiss me.”

  Her statement forces me to eye her carefully. “You don’t … annoy me.”

  She’s taking another sip, and almost spits it out. “Derrik, you’re a horrible liar.” She laughs. “I annoy you all the time. I can see it. If you really want to know the truth, I know when I’m doing it. It makes me laugh.”

  I let out a chuckle, shaking my head. Her words give me a renewed sense of comfort. Slumping deeper into the couch, I stare out into the night. “Thanks.”

  She giggles again. “It’s cute. Getting you all flustered. I only do it because of that, not because I actually want you mad at me.” I nod, still not turning to face her. “So?”

  Taking a deep breath, I find my reflection in the glass. I don’t feel like telling the girl the world thinks is my girlfriend about my hang-ups about another girl I thought could be but never will. Damn, I’ve got issues. So I shrug my shoulders. “It’s nothing.”

  “Like I said, horrible liar.”

  Her prodding, though I’m sure she doesn’t mean to do it, hits a nerve. “It doesn’t matter, Dani. Just drop it.”

  When I look over, she seems upset again, with a hard line across her perfectly groomed brow. “Sorry. Just trying to help,” she spits back.

  I release another long sigh and nod. “I know.”

  Setting down her glass, she gets up from the loveseat, only to sit down in front of it. She pats her hand on the carpet next to her. I eye her carefully, unsure what this is about, but decide to go with it and take the seat next to her. From this position, looking straight ahead, the rails on the balcony are now eye level. You can still see the Seattle city lights, glimmering through the windowpanes.

  “It’s about that girl, isn’t it?”

  I can’t look over at her. I don’t want to answer her because I don’t want to think about it anymore. Unfortunately, I feel the pain rising up again, and I stare at the plush gray carpet under my legs. She tugs at my arm, and I look over to see her motioning for me to come closer. It’s not romantic. She’s not trying to kiss me, she’s trying to console me.

  I follow her motion, and she lays my head over her lap. She smiles down at me, and I stare back, amazed. Not because of what she’s doing or how she’s acting, but because of the genuineness. Every other time we’ve interacted on a personal level, whether or not she’s been tipsy, it’s always about trying to win me over. Trying to force a real relationship out of this fake one she’s concocted. I don’t sense any of that now.

  Which is why I don’t move away or try to stop her when she leans over and kisses me. It’s soft. She lifts her hand, running it across my cheek. She doesn’t try to force anything or make it more passionate than it needs to be. It’s just her lips over mine, a smooth rhythm of calmness. Lifting her head back up, her smile returns, and I can’t help to smirk back her at. It wasn’t a bad kiss, and it wasn’t more than it needed to be.

  “I know you think I want this thing out of some fake celebrity scheme. That I think both of us can benefit from being together? Yeah, I do.” Her smile leaves. Keeping her blue eyes locked on mine, she runs her hand down my jaw, then softly brushes her thumb over my lips. “But I’m here right now, with you and not at some party, because I do want to be with you, Derrik. Not for what you bring to the table, or for how hot you are.” A small giggle breaks out from her. “But because you’re you. I still haven’t changed my plan. I will get you, Derrik Tyler.”

  Her continuous use of the line earns a chuckle from me. She reaches up, takes another sip of her wine, and I stay where I am, with my head on her lap.

  Thoughts of how I acted earlier, and what Zoey told me come flooding back. I was a complete ass in more ways than one today. For how I acted and for believing everything I did. Maybe most importantly, for thinking Zoey and I could have something like we had in the past.

  Sighing, I look back up at Danica. This would be nice. If we were really together, and it was just her and me having this quiet moment after a show with no one around to bother us. She must feel me move because she looks back down at me and smiles again. Reaching up, I run my fingers through her hair, beckoning for her to come closer. She does, connecting our lips once more.

  24

  Zoey

  “No, he still hasn’t shown up,” EJ almost yells into his phone.

  He’s talking to Peter. He tried getting a hold of Derrik last night but never heard back from him. The last time he saw him, he said Derrik left his room with Danica. Both Maddox and Jade sent him text messages this morning, still no reply. When EJ called Danica, it went to voice mail.

  I don’t think anything bad happened to them. They’re megastars, so if something truly horrific happened, I’m sure it would’ve been all over the news by now. That doesn’t mean Derrik didn’t do something stupid, especially after what I told him yesterday. And if he did decide to let loose last night, and for some reason is passed out with Danica or some other Hollywood starlet around him, I know it’s my fault. However, I sit nervously on the couch in the main room of the tour bus, my knees pulled up with my arms wrapped around them because there is a slight possibility that something terrible did happen. If that’s true, I know it’s also because of me.

  “Yeah,” EJ says into his phone. “Okay, thanks, Peter. I’ll call you back if we hear anything.”

  He takes a seat next to me. Neither Jade, who was on the bus right after Derrik and I had the argument, nor EJ has talked to me about it. I know they are both suspicious of something, but they haven’t pushed me on it. Oddly enough, that makes me feel worse.

  Becca reaches over, giving my knee a comforting squeeze, and nods. A silent form of telling me it’s going to be okay.

  “You guys need to chill,” Maddox says, tapping away his drumsticks over his knee. “The dude probably finally decided to party it up. You guys saw him on stage. Something wasn’t right. I bet he just needed to go wild for a little bit.”

  His remark earns me another look from EJ.

  “But he’s never just disappeared on us, Maddox,” Jade counters. “He’s always on top of things.”

  Peeking through the bus window, Maddox chuckles. “Oh, I bet he was on top of things last night.”

  Jade grabs a small pillow from the couch and throws it at him. “Shut up. This isn’t a joke.”

  Maddox glances back at his sister, then EJ. “I’m not joking. Look who
he’s with.”

  EJ jumps to his feet, hurrying to the bus door. Stepping down off of the bus, I hear him shout, “What the hell? I was texting you all night.”

  Curiosity gets the better of me. I get up from my spot on the couch and cross to the other side, looking through the window next to Maddox. I see Derrik, still in the same clothes, and he rolls his eyes at his brother.

  “Aw, you care!” he yells at him with a laugh.

  It’s not the joke or even the carefree attitude that throws me for a loop. It’s who’s next to him. Danica stands by his side, their hands clasped together.

  “Idiot! Hurry up, we’re an hour behind now. Peter is pissed,” EJ snaps at him, then walks back on the bus.

  My eyes are still locked on Danica. Derrik turns around, and she says something, making him laugh. Leaning closer, he whispers in her ear, and she nods. He reaches his hand up slowly, brushing his thumb over her cheek. Then he leans over and kisses her. He actually kisses her!

  My eyes are wide open, watching her kiss him back. They break away, and she smiles again, then says something else before tapping her finger on his nose, making them both laugh. She turns around and walks toward the back of the bus, probably where a car is waiting for her, and he hops into the bus. There isn’t anything I can do to hide the stunned expression I’m sure I’m wearing.

  “Sorry, guys,” he calls out.

  Maddox slaps one of his sticks across his leg. “She finally wore you down, huh?”

  Chuckling, he shrugs. Shrugs! I keep my eyes locked on him, but he never even glances at me. I expected today’s bus ride to be awkward. Probably even a little uncomfortable. What I didn’t expect was to find him kissing Danica—someone he was literally hiding from yesterday—and then hop on the bus smiling after he did it. There weren’t even any photographers or fans around to play up their fake relationship.

  I get up from my spot, about to head back to him. Why? I don’t know, but I feel like I should say something. After how we ended it and seeing him with Danica now, something is obviously up.

  “Zoey,” Becca hisses at me from her spot on the couch, shaking her head. It earns an eye raise from Jade, and I glance back at Derrik who’s sitting in his bunk, rummaging through a backpack.

  Against Becca’s warning, and probably my better judgment, I head toward Derrik. “Hey.” I try to sound calm like it’s just another day. But it comes out weak.

  Glancing up, his eyes meet mine for less than a second, and he looks back at his bag. “Hey.”

  “Um …” I nervously pinch the skin between my thumb and index finger, keeping my eyes on him. He never looks back. “I just wanted to, uh, make sure—”

  “We’re fine, Z,” he cuts me off.

  “Oh. Good.” I stay where I am, not sure why I’m expecting more, but I do. There isn’t anymore, though. He takes out a shirt, stands up, and pulls the one he’s wearing off.

  It’s like I’m not standing right in front of him, noticing his lean body with a small tattoo on his right arm: a guitar with wings and a crown on top. It’s become the band’s logo, and everyone in the bad got one at the beginning of the year, but my eyes roam over his chest and stomach. How have I not seen him without a shirt on this entire trip? He’s had his arms around me, but why am I just now noticing the definition in them? And why do his shoulders look wider without his shirt on?

  He throws on the red T-shirt with a Rolling Stones image on the front, and looks over at me. “You probably shouldn’t be checking out guys. Landon will get jealous.”

  He says it with a smirk. If we didn’t have the meltdown yesterday, I might laugh. Or at least know he’s saying it in jest. But with his eyes lingering on me, the smirk is cocky. His words bring me crashing back to reality, and I know why I’m here. “Really? Danica?”

  “What about her?” He folds his arms.

  “Oh, I don’t know, except that this entire trip you’ve wanted nothing to do with her. Now you’re freely kissing her outside of your bus?”

  “Yup.” He keeps his arms crossed, cocking his head to the side.

  “Yup? What the hell does ‘yup’ mean?”

  Straightening out, he inches closer. “It can mean whatever you want it to mean, Z.”

  “No,” I snap back, making sure my voice is low so only he can hear me. “Something’s going on. Look, I’m sorry if yesterday—”

  “Yesterday happened. It is what is it. Are we done?”

  My jaw drops. “No, we’re not done. Derrik, I know you think—”

  “No,” he snaps, now only inches away. I cringe, a little unsure if the others up front heard him, but he glances over my shoulder and then lowers his voice. “No, you don’t get to tell me what I think. I know what I think, and I know what I feel. What? Am I not supposed to move on? Danica’s never hidden how she feels about me, and more importantly, Danica’s never been afraid to act on how she feels. Why should I fight against someone who wants me? Especially when someone else out there says they’re in love with me but is sleeping with someone else?”

  He doesn’t flinch. The words pour out of him, and I not only know how much he hates me right now, but how much I hurt him. Closing my eyes, I try to find the strength to apologize for everything, but he never gives me the chance.

  “We’ve got one more stop, and then you can get back home to your boyfriend, and I can get on with my life. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  Without waiting for a response, he brushes past me. I stand where I am, unsure of what to say or how to react. I know what I said. I knew it was the only way to finally end all the feelings between us. I just didn’t think it’d not only end our possible relationship but our friendship.

  Walking toward the bedroom door, I head inside. As I slide it shut, I hear him in the front of the bus, laughing at something Maddox says.

  This is right. It’s what I deserve.

  25

  Derrik

  We’re late, and Peter scolds me when we get off of the bus a few hours later, telling me to not let it happen again. Arriving in Vancouver, we’re immediately jettisoned off to the only radio show we can make. I’m not sure what Zoey and Becca are going to do. I avoided looking at Zoey the entire trip.

  I don’t know if she’s mad at me or embarrassed for me, and I don’t care. I also don’t know if she thinks I partied all night with Danica or had sex with her. And I really couldn’t care less.

  For the record, I didn’t have sex with her.

  After making out for a while, Danica and I hung out in her suite for a little bit longer, talked, and then fell asleep. I didn’t tell her anything more about Zoey. I listened to everything she puts up with in her life, all of the schedules and appearances she has, and the goals for her show.

  I wasn’t lying about what I told Zoey. Maybe I could’ve been a little nicer about it, but then again, I could’ve been a whole lot meaner, too. I can have something with Danica. She’s hot, knows my world, and wants to be with me. After listening to her talk last night, and finally having a glass of wine, I told her I’d give this thing a shot. Us. Maybe not the most romantic overture, but like I told Zoey, why not?

  Of course, that doesn’t stop EJ from trying to dissuade the entire thing. He thinks it’s a rebound. I disagree. First of all, Zoey and I never started dating again. Isn’t that the first rule of having a rebound, you’ve gone through a breakup? Secondly, and maybe more importantly, Danica and I aren’t a couple. We’re just … trying it out.

  “You guys, I’m starving,” I say with us all in the elevator after the radio appearance. “I haven’t had anything to eat since last night.”

  Maddox cackles. “I bet you haven’t.”

  “Gross!” Jade yells, slapping his arm.

  The elevator dings, and we walk through the lobby of the building, out to the SUV waiting for us. EJ tugs on my arm, keeping us a couple steps back from Maddox and Jade.

  “I just think you need to chill, man,” he picks up the conversation we were having before th
e radio spot started. “Like, decompress.”

  “Decompress?” I chuckle, quirking an eyebrow. “Dude, after tonight, we fly back to L.A., and I start filming Parker’s Place. Then we’ve got the secret show. Then we’re off to Vegas for a month for the music festival. Decompress, EJ? That word doesn’t belong in our vocabulary.”

  He grabs my arm, stopping us both from walking. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “EJ, you’re worrying too much. We’re just friends.”

  “No, you’ve never been just friends. Before yesterday, you were playing a cat and mouse game where it was almost comical how much you avoided her. And now you’re kissing her good-bye before getting on the bus? I know what this is, Derrik.”

  “You think you know what it is.”

  “You can doubt me all you want—”

  “Yeah, because you have so much experience, King of Nice.” He jerks his head back, scowling at me. “Damn it, sorry.”

  “Whatever.” He shakes his head. “All I’m saying is, I think you’re fooling yourself. And if you’re not careful, it could all blow up in your face.”

  26

  Zoey

  We’re in a private suite inside of the Vancouver arena. The Kings are playing tonight. I really didn’t want to come, but Jade told us there was going to be an after-party, and JC Lopez is going to be there. Becca’s been drooling over him this entire tour, so I gave in and came to the show with her. It’s not like we’ve been able to talk to him. He, along with the Saturn Girls, were the opening acts for the band. The Saturn Girls are well-known in their own right, but JC just released his first album, and is still gaining a following.

  She pokes my arm. “You can’t back out.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes, still feeling defeated.