True, it meant we couldn’t watch a movie, but since the seven of us (actually eight... Cory has invited Tara to join us later) can rarely agree on what we should watch, it’s not a tremendous loss. Especially since, after making us all hot chocolate, Jesse broke out his acoustic guitar.
So this is what we’re doing on a snowy, northern night. We’re all in our warmest pajamas and covered in fleecy blankets. We’re drinking hot chocolate by a pixelated fireplace. And we’re singing acoustic radio hits from the 1990s and early 2000s. It might be one of my most favorite moments of all time.
Especially when Sam scoots up beside me and pulls me into his fleecy, blanketed arms.
“I’m cold. Hold me,” he mumbles in a silly voice that is somehow still insanely cute. So I happily oblige, linking my arms through his and snuggling up against his side. “You know what this makes me think of?”
“What?” I ask.
“When we were kids and we built that enormous blanket fort in your living room.”
“That was up for like a year.”
“I know. It was kind of our secret clubhouse.”
“That wasn’t a secret at all.”
“That’s true,” he acknowledges as Jesse begins to strum another familiar tune. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” by Deep Blue Something. Classic.
Unfortunately, just as we’re about to sing the chorus, Cory’s cell phone rings, interrupting what may have actually been the best performance of the evening.
“Oh! Take five, crew. That’s Tara! I’m going to run downstairs to meet her.” And with that, Cory bolts out the door.
“He’s going to be running awhile. We’re on the fifteenth floor,” Josh remarks.
“Can I ask you all something?” Joni asks hesitantly. “What do you guys think of her? Honestly.”
“She’s a little abrasive, but I don’t a problem with her,” Oliver says. Of course he doesn’t have a problem with her. Oliver is the nicest guy alive. He doesn’t have problems with anyone. Except for when it’s too loud for him to sleep. Then he has problems.
“I’m not her biggest fan, but she seems to make Cory happy,” Sam answers.
“Does she still think you’re dating her friend?” Jesse asks Sam.
“I don’t know,” Sam sighs.
“She won’t be thinking that long when she sees you cuddling the camera girl,” Josh smirks. Of all of the guys, he’s always been the one to call us out for our strange relationship. Granted, it wouldn’t be so strange if we were actually dating.
“It’s okay. She has no idea who I am,” I assure them.
“What?” Sam asks.
“It’s true. She thought I was Joni.”
“Huh. That’s rude,” Sam remarks. Then he notices the death glare that Joni throws him. “No. Being mistaken for you personally isn’t rude. It just seems rude that she doesn’t know who everyone is by now.”
“I think she has her mind on other things,” Jesse smirks.
“Yeah. Like using my brother to get famous,” Joni scowls.
“Come on, Jo, you really think that’s the only reason she’s with him?” Jesse asks. “You don’t?”
“No. I think she’s with him because he’s a nice guy. He’s talented. He’s not as handsome as me, but let’s be honest, who is?” At this, several eyes roll. “All I’m saying is you need to give Cory a little credit.”
“You know, Jesse, I’m sure you mean well, but I really don’t needyoulecturing me on - ”
But before she’s able to complete that sentence, the door opens and Cory appears with Tara in tow.
“Hi, everyone!” She gives an excited wave.
Everyone replies at once.
“Hello, Tara.”
“Hi.”
“What’s up?”
“Oh my God, my life is just so crazy right now. Like, you have no idea,” Tara says taking a seat in between Cory and Josh.
“Oh, we might,” Josh laughs.
Tara ignores him and keeps talking. “First, I’m doing this huge shoot for this national campaign for a makeup line whose products are designed to enhance a woman’s natural beauty. So it’s like, you’re wearing makeup, but it doesn’t look like you’re wearing makeup.”
“So what’s the point?” Sam laughs.
It’s only then that Tara glances up at him and notices him and me sharing our large plaid fleecy blanket. And she definitely doesn’t approve.
“The point is to make women proud of their natural beauty.” She looks at me. “Who are you?”
“Um, I’m Melissa. We met at the video shoot a few weeks ago...”
“Oh, right.” I’m not sure if she actually remembers or if she’s just throwing me a bone. “Well you know, Sam, Courtney is still eager to get to know you a little better. I know she’d be happy to go out with you if you’d give her a call.” Now she sounds like a football player on the offense. Not that any of us (except maybe Josh, who was super into sports in high school) actually know what an offensive football player sounds like.
“You know, Tara, that’s awesome, but I just... I don’t think I have the time to date right now,” Sam says. Good. Good excuse. I mean, it’s actually kind of true. But that’s beside the point.
I hope I don’t look as smug as I feel.
But Tara is just not letting it go.
“Oh, she doesn’t mind. She doesn’t have a lot of free time either, what with her modeling and trying to launch a singing career. I know she’d love to just get together with you, maybe pick your brain on music. So do you want me to let her know that you’ll call her once you’re back in Cali?”
Sam sighs. He hates it when people put him on the spot.
“Honestly Tara, I’d really rather you didn’t,” Sam tells her.
“What? But she really,reallyliked you.”
“And I liked her. She seems like a great person. It’s just that - ”
“What? Is she not good enough for you?” Tara suddenly rounds on him.
“No! It’s not that - ”
“Then what? Not pretty enough? Not famous enough? I bet she’s not skanky enough. I’ve read all those articles about you. How like your women loose and easy - ”
The next thing I know, Sam and I are both on our feet. Sam, looking irritated and yet still somewhat apologetic, seems lost, like he doesn’t know where to go or what to do. I, on the other hand, am shaking with all sorts of disgust and anger. Even though I never, ever resort to violence, my hand is balled into a fist, ready to fly right into those perfect pearly whites and cosmetically altered nose.
Thankfully, Sam’s bandmates are still calm enough to remember to use words.
“Hey!” Jesse snaps. “Come on, now. No, Sam isn’t perfect, but none of us are. You can’t believe that crap that goes around on the Internet.”
“Yeah, come on, Babe. You know Sam isn’t like that,” Cory tells her, sounding like he’s trying to talk sense into a toddler throwing a tantrum.
“Well, from what I’ve seen, I wouldn’t be surprised,” she sneers.
That does it for Sam.
“You know, I think I’ve had about all the fun I can handle for one night. I’m going to bed. Goodnight,” he bids us, making his way toward the door.
“What? But we haven’t made s’mores yet,” Josh reminds him, holding up the bag of marshmallows.
Sam doesn’t respond. Instead, he walks right out the door, closing it quietly behind him.
“I think I’m going to call it a night too. See you all in the morning,” I say, following Sam into the chilly hotel hallway. I know exactly how Tara will interpret that, but I really don’t care what she thinks. Especially after what just happened.
Sam is already halfway down the hall, so I have to sprint to catch up with him. He turns when he hears my footsteps approaching him.
“Hey,” he says. “You didn’t have to leave.”
“You think Iwanted to stay with that?” I ask.
He manages a grin. “I guess not.” His blue eye
s are still as bright and beautiful and cheerful as ever, but I can tell that he’s bothered by everything Tara said.
“So, are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just didn’t want such a good day to end like that, you know?”
“Definitely. Still, you didn’t deserve that.”
He shrugs. “Comes with the job, unfortunately.”
“But that shouldn’t be an excuse. No one should have to put up with that, especially someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.” I’m talking really fast now. It’s not a first. I always ramble when I’m upset.
Sam grins and rests his arms on my shoulders like we’re at a middle school dance. “I love that you’re so protective of me.”
I blush. “I’m protective of all of you. I hate it when people try to tear you down.”
“You know that’s never going to happen, right?” he assures me.
“It better not.”
His smile broadens across his face. “So, are you going to bed now or...?” he trails off.
“I don’t think I’ll actually sleep for a while. I’m kind of jittery. I’ll probably just go and read or maybe sketch a little.”
“Want to go back to my room and watch a movie instead?”
I love watching movies with Sam, partly because he’s so entertaining while he’s watching movies and partly because there’s a very good chance I’ll end up leaning against him again.
And here I thought this night was going to end badly.
CHAPTER 8
“She sings to me that melody
Of diamonds on piano keys
The tune of painted harpsichords
And gold viola strings.
And she sings to me the song of night
Of planets, stars, and velvet skies
The word around us fades away
And she has roses on her mind...”
Song: “Roses”
Artist: The Kind of September
From the Album:Meet Me on the Midway
As usual, Sam and Cory’s room is a horrific wreck. Well, Cory’s side of the room isn’t too bad, but Sam’s side looks like a tornado tore through the room and scattered all of his dirty laundry, snack wrappers, and empty water bottles everywhere. I truly pity the housekeeping staff.
“Sorry it’s kind of a mess,” Sam apologizes. I have no idea why. It’s not like I haven’t lived on the same tour bus as him and four other dirty, smelly guys.
“Sam, how long have I known you?” I tease. “It actually doesn’t look too bad, you know, considering it’syou.”
“At least I picked up my dirty underwear,” he grins.
“Yeah, and I’m only detecting a hint of old sweat socks.” I’m only somewhat joking. I’m telling you, twenty-year-old guys are not charming. Like, at all. Not even the super dreamy celebrity guys. They stink just as much as any other twenty-year-old guys. Heck, they probably stink worse because they think they can get away with it.
But hey, at least he changes his underwear.
“That’s man smell, baby. Take a good whiff.” Sam laughs, acting a lot more like himself now that he’s away from Tara and her trash talk.
“But why do men have to smell like wet bath towels?”
“Why do women have to smell like flowers?”
“Because everyone likes flowers.”
“What if someone’s allergic?”
“Then I’d think they’d like the flower perfume more since they can’t stop to enjoy the smell of the actual flower without sniffling or sneezing.”
“What if someone’s allergic to the perfume? What if they’re allergic to everything?”
“Then they should probably see a doctor and get some steroids or something.”
“Oh. I was going to suggest they outlaw perfume,” Sam remarks, flopping down onto his bed.
“I thought guys liked the smell of perfume,” I say, taking a seat next to his head.
“Guys like the smell of new cars and bacon.”
“So, you’d rather a girl smell like machinery and breakfast food than flowers or coconuts?”
Sam shrugs. “I don’t really care. As long as she’s got a good personality.”
Good to know.
“So, would you date a girl who smelled bad?” I ask.
“I mean, I’d rather she bathe every now and then, but she doesn’t have to smell like Super Sweet Seduction, or whatever those fancy perfumes are called. As long as she’s a decent, down-to-earth person and I don’t have to hold my nose when I’m around her, I think we’ll get along pretty alright,” Sam says, smiling up at me from his back.
“Are you going to return the favor and bathe every now and then?” I ask.
“Only when my pits start to mildew.” His grin is cheeky and mischievous.
“Ew! Okay. We’re done here.” I hold my hands up in surrender.
“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he announces in some weird monster voice and grabs my foot.
“No!” I shriek and pull both my feet away from him. I’m so, so, so ticklish, especially on my feet. And he knows it, so he shows no mercy.
“What about you?” he asks, probably realizing that I could very well kick him in the face if he tried to tickle me. “What do you look for in a guy? I mean, aside from him being a drummer?”
“For the last time, I do not have a thing for drummers!”
“Okay, okay,” he grins. “Seriously, though. I don’t know if you’ve ever told me what you really think about dating.”
Uh, yeah. That’s because if I were to talk about it, he’d realize that I was describinghim. Honestly, though, I don’t know how I’ve gotten away with it for so long. Maybe it’s because I’m so open with my celebrity crushes (like the hot Irish guy). Or maybe it’s because Sam has been operating under the assumption that I’m asexual. Whatever the reason, I’ve always been pretty good at dodging the What-Do-You-Look-For-In-A-Guy question.
Until now, that is.
“Well, I definitely like a guy with good hygiene.” And do you know what Sam does? He laughs. He actuallylaughs. Granted, I meant it to be a bit of a joke, but seriously? The boy is rolling around and holding his sides because he is laughing so hard. This is not funny. “What?” I demand.
“Of all the qualities that matter to you in a significant other and you go forhygiene?”
“Yes! I know you like to joke about it, but honestly, can you imagine dating someone who didn’t wash their hair? Or brush their teeth?” I shudder at the very thought.
“Okay, fine. I guess hygiene isn’t theworstquality you could have come up with,” he acknowledges. “What else?” Why? Why couldn’t he have just been satisfied withhygiene?
“Well...” Okay. This could get tricky. Just stay calm. Keep it together. Most importantly, remain totally neutral. “He’s got to be able to make me laugh. I couldn’t be with a guy who wasn’t funny.”
“See, that’s better. Hygiene. Pfft. Hygiene is for the weak.”
“No, hygiene is for the man of my dreams.” Of course, he doesn’t know it, but heisthe man of my dreams, and apparently, he scoffs at hygiene.
“So, I guess that means that we’re all out of the running,” Sam remarks lightly.
That one little comment just about gives me a heart attack. What exactly is he asking me? Is this his way of wondering if I’d ever consider dating one of them? Or more specifically, him? No, he’s probably just joking, or teasing me for having such ridiculously high standards. Wanting a man who showers regularly and doesn’t smell like a gym bag. Imagine that.
Still, the longer I sit here in silence, the sooner he’s going to realize that I am, in fact, hiding something and that the truth is that I would date him in a heartbeat if he asked.
But what does hewantme to say? Oh, buck up, Pal. You’ve still got a chance. More than a chance if you catch my drift.
Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.
“Don’t sell yourselves short,” I finally say. “Your hygiene isn’thorrible.
”
“I feel like you’re only saying that out of politeness,” Sam laughs.
“Hey, when you shower, you smell amazing.”
“Well thank you, Miss Parker. That means a lot, especially coming from you.” Okay, now I know he’s teasing me. “But seriously, how would you feel if one of us wanted to date you?”
Why is he pushing this? Is it because of what just happened with Tara? Or is he fishing around for one of his bandmates? Oh, God! Please don’t let that be the case. I don’t think it is. Cory sees me as a sister. Oliver likes Joni. I’m not nearly hot enough for Jesse. Josh is a huge flirt, but he flirts with everyone! Besides, the girls he usually goes for are the spunky, sporty type, which I am definitely not. I’m more into scarves and coffee shops and cool photographs.
That just leaves Sam. I guess it could be possible that he thinks of me as more than a friend. I mean, we are totally alone in his hotel room. But he’s my best friend. It’s not like this is a first or anything.
So why am I having such a hard time being honest with him? I want to tell him. I should tell him. Maybe if I told him and he felt the same way...
But what if he doesn’t? That would be so embarrassing. Worse, he might begin to feel awkward and uncomfortable around me, and that’s the last thing that I want. The entire world is expecting something from him. He is in the public eye no matter what he does. There are very few people he acts like himself around, and I’m honored to be one of those people. I don’t want to lose that because I misunderstood his intentions in asking me how I would feel about dating one of them.
Being a girl is so confusing.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. I wonder if he can hear my voice shaking. I definitely can. “It - It’d be a little weird, don’t you think?”
To be totally honest, I have no idea why I just said that. It’s like while my brain was debating what it wanted to say, my mouth decided to just spit out whatever the heck it felt like. And for the record, whenever my mouth decides to act on its own, it usually ends up getting me in trouble. Or at least into a situation that I will more than likely end up regretting later.
Boy Band Page 7
