Crazy Baby

by A. D. Justice

  It sounds like a club.

  “Luke? Can you hear me?” she yells. “Hang on—I’m trying to find somewhere quieter.”

  After a minute, the noise dies down and I now hear the sound of city streets. “Hey baby,” she coos. “What are you still doing up?”

  “I wanted to talk to you after I talked to Syndi. Where are you?”

  “We’re at a nightclub in DC,” she replies. “Who’s Syndi?”

  “My public relations lady,” I remind her. “What club?”

  “Umm, I don’t even know the name. It’s supposedly the place to be for nightlife around here. What did Syndi say?”

  “Syndi said…I won’t have time to see you during your break over Valentine’s.”

  I’m met with dead silence on the line for an uncomfortable amount of time.

  “Andi?”

  “Why does Syndi get to decide if you have time for me?” Andi asks pointedly.

  “Babe, she set up an interview on Lindsey’s show with a few other big names in boxing. After that, Joe and Mack have a surprise for Shane and me. Apparently Shane and Katie are having problems, and they didn’t know you had a break in the tour at that time,” I explain. “I can’t get out of it.”

  “Andi, it’s time for more dirty dancing. Get in here!” a male voice calls from the background.

  “What the hell is that about, Andi?” I snarl.

  “It’s Travis. He’s pretty drunk from celebrating tonight. They just got word they’ve been nominated for Grammy Awards in several categories. The whole entourage is here to congratulate them,” she explains.

  “He said more dirty dancing. What have you been doing exactly?” I ask forcefully.

  “We went to a salsa bar in Miami a couple of weeks ago before the Grammy nominations were announced. We all danced and had fun. The guys asked the DJ to play some salsa music tonight as a good luck charm to help them win,” she says with a laugh.

  And now, my blood pressure is shooting through the roof, along with my temper.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ANDI

  March

  It’s been four weeks since the huge fight Luke and I had on the phone. While I stood on the sidewalk outside a very popular nightclub in Washington, DC. Right after Travis drunkenly yelled that he wanted to dirty dance more.

  I tried to explain to Luke that there was really nothing to it. There were about twelve of us who went to the salsa bar in Miami, and we invented a new dance—line dirty salsa dancing. We were all pretty tipsy, and it seemed funny at the time. Travis had a lot to drink that night in DC, and he wanted to do it again.

  We literally all stood in a line, as in line dancing, but spiced it up with dirty salsa dancing. It actually looked really funny grinding and swaying our hips with no partner to grind back. That’s not how it sounded when Travis yelled it, though.

  Luke eventually listened to me and we made up, but I can still feel the strain in our relationship. The break in our tour schedule over Valentine’s was the worst. Everyone split up, going to the four corners of the earth to go be with their loved ones. I took a flight home to Atlanta and sat in the house alone instead of going to Vegas to see Luke.

  Travis sent me a text message on Valentine’s Day that simply read: Happy VD from your secret admirer—lol!

  He said secret admirer because I already knew exactly whom the text was from. VD, for Valentine’s Day, but we’d also joked about that on the bus. I told Kale that VD was never a thoughtful gift for Valentine’s Day. His face turned bright red from embarrassment when he asked why I thought he, out of everyone, needed to hear that.

  We’re back on the bus now after finishing tonight’s concert in Chicago, headed to St. Louis for our next one. The mood is a little more somber, a little more laid-back since they didn’t win the Grammys they were nominated for. Just the recognition of their work is impressive, but it’s still a disappointment to not actually win.

  While in Chicago, we were close to a park with swings, a merry-go-round, slides, and other kids’ playground equipment. Early in the day before the show, I went over to the park to have some time alone. This distance I feel from Luke is more than just the miles between us. My heart feels so heavy and broken, and I don’t know how to fix it.

  Our schedules are so different, and we’ve missed a lot of calls and texts from each other because of it. It’s hard to carry on a conversation when it takes days to complete it. The uncertainties bother me all the time. But they hit me especially hard when I had to go back on the road without seeing him once over my break. During the holiday created just for romance.

  As I sat on the small, metal merry-go-round, the questions flew through my mind at the speed of light.

  Do I leave the tour to go see him and reconnect with him?

  Should I quit the tour completely and be there for him?

  Is this the life and the career I want—traveling, singing, and talking to the fans?

  Is it too late for Luke and me to fix this?

  Should we stay together or take a break while we’re pursuing different goals?

  I was sitting with my feet planted on the ground, my back propped against the metal bar, and letting my feet sway me left and right. I didn’t even see or hear Travis approach me until he sat down beside me.

  “You’re deep in thought,” he said, nudging my shoulder with his.

  “Just enjoying some quiet time before the show tonight,” I replied with a small smile.

  “I miss being a kid. Recess was always my favorite time of the day in school, but I never realized how rare those times of just free play would be when I grew up,” he mused.

  I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Katelyn plans every moment of his day. I was even surprised he was able to sneak away to sit on the playground with me for a few minutes.

  “You must have locked Katelyn in the bathroom,” I joked.

  “Why do you say that?” he looked at me, confused. His brows were drawn down, a slight smile played on his face, and his hazel eyes danced with laughter.

  “Because you’re out here. If she’s not asleep or in the bathroom, you wouldn’t have a second to yourself.”

  His smiled widened and he stuck his hand into his front pocket. After a couple of seconds of digging, he pulled out a key. “You’ve thought about doing it, too,” he accused me.

  “If I’d known you had a key, I would’ve locked her in there long before now!” I laughed so hard that my body nearly folded in two, leaning toward Travis. Bringing my hand up to my face, I wiped away the tears of laughter from just picturing Katelyn pounding on the locked door.

  That visual brought me out of my funk somewhat and held me over until we finished the show. Katelyn was so pissed off when she finally got out of the bathroom. She was screaming like a banshee and accusing everyone of doing it. When she stomped off the bus, no doubt looking to blame me for it, she stopped cold in her tracks when she finally spotted Travis and me on the playground together.

  Drawing her shoulders back and her torso up, I could feel the glare from her cold stare all the way across the parking lot. “I think your secret is out, Travis,” I said, nodding my head in her direction.

  Travis kept his eyes glued to me when he replied. “No, I don’t think my secret is known quite yet.”

  After the Chicago show ended tonight, most everyone piled onto Travis’s bus for the ride to St. Louis, but I went to my bus and locked myself in my bedroom. That’s where I am now—eyeball deep in thoughts and questions about how Luke and I can survive this separation. Feeling like I need a good cry, I sprawl out across my bed and turn the TV on to drown out my sobs.

  Then my phone rings. Luke. It’s already late and he’s calling me right now. My stomach is in knots and my heart sinks to my feet. It’s not normally good news when he calls this late, especially with how early his mornings start. I don’t know why I’m so on edge about his call unless it’s just that sixth sense that he’s feeling things are off between us, too.r />
  “Hello?” I answer tentatively.

  “Andi,” he says calmly but coolly. “I just saw the picture of you and Travis kissing.”

  “What? I haven’t kissed Travis,” I deny.

  “I’m looking at it, Andi. I was even sent a copy of it by special delivery. It’s definitely you and Travis,” he accuses.

  “Luke, I don’t know what you’re looking at, but I haven’t kissed Travis, so there’s no way you can look at a picture of us kissing,” I assert emphatically.

  “Turn your TV to the entertainment channel,” he says dryly.

  Clicking the remote, I gasp loudly when the picture fills my screen.

  “Luke,” I whisper. “That is not what you think it is. I swear.”

  “You’re really going to deny it now when I have the proof in my hand? When it’s splattered all over the TV and Internet? When you’ve been dirty dancing with him. Traveling on the bus with him. Getting closer and closer to him the whole time you’ve been away from me. I’m supposed to take your word now?”

  “My answer is the same as the last time I asked you to believe me over the pictures you held in your hand, Luke,” I state flatly, reminding him of the time he completely gutted me.

  “This is different,” he argues through gritted teeth.

  “It’s not different. It comes down to whether or not you trust me. I’ve never given you any reason to doubt my loyalty to you.”

  “I don’t think this is going to work out between us, Andi,” Luke says flatly. “Maybe it’s best we end it here.”

  “How can you do this to me again?” I whisper. The pain in my chest prevents me from anything more.

  “I’ve been thinking about it—even before this picture was released. We’ve grown apart. We’re on completely different paths in life, Andi. How can we even spend any time together? You’re an opening act right now. What happens when you’re the main act? Will you do world tours and expect me to wait a year for you to get home?

  “And then I get this picture of you and your boyfriend, all cozy and hugged up together. He’s obviously the one you want, so go be with him.”

  Here come the tears that have been threatening to fall all day. I’ve seriously considered walking away from this tour, this dream…everything…just to be with Luke. Now I find out the truth about how he feels. He’s been thinking about how he can end it all between us.

  What an idiot I am.

  “Sounds like you have everything all figured out, Luke. As usual, there’s no way you’re wrong about anything. There’s no reason to actually ask me about that picture before assuming you know what you’re looking at. Just like the last time you were given pictures of me, huh?

  “Tell you what, Luke. When you figure out how badly you’ve just fucked up, don’t bother calling me back. I’ll mail your ring to you,” I yell and hang up before he can respond.

  Then I bury my face in my pillow and scream my sobs into it. My heart is shredded, and there are no pieces left that are big enough to put back together. I put all of my trust and love into him only to not get it back in return. At the first sign of something that requires a little faith and trust on his part, he tucks tail and runs from us. He didn’t even ask me about it first. Yet again, he didn’t even give me a chance to explain before he assumed the worst about me.

  I’ll probably regret the words I said to him in the morning after I’ve had time to think about it, but right now I’m just too mad and hurt to put up with one more second of this. My love is real and unconditional, but there are limits to what I’m willing to tolerate. I refuse to be anyone’s doormat, but I’d give everything I have if he’d just love me with the same intensity.

  As my eyes slowly open, the morning sun is streaming through the blinds. When I look out the window, the huge arena is all I can see. I haven’t been asleep that long, but I don’t think I can go back to sleep now. I’ll be dead tired after the show tonight, though. Picking up my laptop, I decide to be brave and see what Luke was referring to when he said Travis and I are all over the Internet. As soon as I pull up the gossip pages, I instantly regret it.

  One picture after the other tells a great story about us, but the fact is there isn’t even a story to tell. There are pictures of Travis and me in various places, and the way they’re laid out makes it look like we’re the world’s happiest couple. Singing onstage together, although the microphones are hidden and it looks like he’s about to kiss me. Then pictures of us getting on the same bus, but no one else is around, so it looks like we’ve claimed a bus as our own love nest.

  There’s one especially unflattering picture of me patting my stomach, and the tagline says I’m already pregnant with Travis’s baby. Lovely. The paparazzi have done this to me before.

  Then there’s the picture of Travis and me at the playground, when I was leaned over laughing. From the angle of the picture, it looks like I’ve leaned over and kissed him. When I brushed the tears away with my hand, it made my hand appear to be cupping his face.

  None of it is real. None of it is true.

  But even to my eyes, it all looks very real.

  It also all looks very staged.

  Under the “You May Also Be Interested In” section of this website, I see a very familiar face smiling back at me. After clicking on the link, I think I may be sick.

  Luke.

  And Syndi.

  There are photos of their intimate dinners over candlelight, obviously in a hotel lobby. They’re holding hands, smiling at each other, and leaning in close to each other. More pictures show them walking hand in hand down the Strip in Vegas. One caption shows that it was taken during Valentine’s week—when he told me I couldn’t come out there because Joe and Mack had something special planned for him.

  Now I know it wasn’t Joe and Mack who made plans for him at all. He was with Syndi. The only explanation I can think of is he used that picture of Travis and me as an excuse to end it between us and not look like the bad guy here. He may even know that the picture isn’t what it’s made to look like, but it doesn’t matter either way now.

  Closing my laptop and forcing myself out of the bed, I take a long, hot shower and take time for yet another nervous breakdown. Staring at my engagement ring, the tears flow freely along with the water over my face. My hands shake uncontrollably as I start to remove it from my left ring finger.

  The left ring finger was originally chosen for wedding bands because it was believed to be the only one with a vein that runs directly to the heart. Scientists now say that isn’t true, even though many people still choose to believe it is. As I slide the promise of eternal love off my finger, I’m inclined to believe the scientists are wrong because I’m certain I just ripped my heart out all over again.

  It takes me an extraordinarily long time to shower, dry my hair, and get dressed. My will to go on is barely hanging on by a thread. Crouched down in the tiny bathroom, the wails of my pain echo off the walls. Luke has left me alone again. The love we shared has been shattered by rumors and innuendo. The life we’ve built together has been ripped from my hands and left gaping wounds in my heart. How am I supposed to go onstage and sing these love songs now? My every thought will be of Luke, what we had, and what we’ve lost.

  We’ve already been through the gauntlet of relationship issues, and I really believed we’d come out on the better end of everything. Our love had been put through the fire and came out stronger—until someone else’s lie destroyed it again. Part of me wants to call him, beg him to listen to me again, and explain what really happened. I want to tell him what I’ve been thinking about doing and why.

  Another part of me wants to call him and tell him to go straight to hell without passing go and collecting a dime first. I want to rail at him for doing this to me again, for not being a man and standing behind me, and for not believing me, regardless of what the circumstances look like. If he loved me, if he believed in my love, he would’ve given me the benefit of the doubt.

  Again, I’m le
ft like the fool, pining after him when he clearly doesn’t even want me.

  Picking up my phone, I decide on a different course of action.

  “Hello?” Brandon answers.

  “Brandon, it’s Andi,” I say with a watery voice.

  “Andi, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.

  I give him the rundown of my conversation with Luke. “How can he do this to me again, Brandon?”

  “I’m sorry, Andi. I know this is tough, but you also know how Luke is. He makes rash decisions and later regrets them. Sometimes it just takes a while to get it through that thick head of his that he’s wrong. I’ll talk to him if you want me to.”

  Do I? Do I want to pursue this again? I’m so torn. I’m so hurt. I’m so mad. There are too many overwhelming feelings that swing wildly from one end of the spectrum to the other.

  “No, Brandon, don’t bother. I think I just needed to talk it through with someone who understands where we’ve been. As much as it kills me, I just don’t have it in me to go through this again. I need to learn to say when enough is enough.”

  We talk for a few more minutes about how everything came down. Brandon loves Luke, but I can tell he’s mad at him over this. He also has some doubts about what’s really going on between Travis and me, which I understand. I don’t expect him to choose sides or anything.

  “Brandon, thank you for everything. You’re a wonderful brother, and I love you for being there for Luke and for me. Take care of yourself,” I say before we hang up. Losing Luke’s family is almost as hard as losing Luke. They’ve all become so intertwined in my life that it’s like losing my own family all over again.

  Sound Bar and Fireflies have interviews at the radio station today, and I had originally planned on tagging along. I’ve changed my mind now, though. It’ll take every ounce of energy I have just to perform tonight. I don’t want to pretend I’m okay any longer than I absolutely have to.

  I send a text to Travis and Katelyn to tell them to go on without me. Within minutes, there’s a knock at my bedroom door. When I open it, Travis immediately knows something is terribly wrong and wraps his arms around me in a warm bear hug. It’s really a good thing that I haven’t put my makeup on yet because I can’t stop the tears that start immediately.