Phone Calls from a Rock Star

by JL Paul

  He laughed. “I figured they’d cheer you up and keep an eye on you at the same time. Too bad I can’t enroll them there.”

  “Yeah, well, we haven’t left the stupid room all day,” I grumbled.

  “Get out on campus with them. I want everyone to see them there and know that I meant it when I said I’m watching out for you. I want everyone to know I’m serious.”

  “I’ve been trying to talk them into taking me to Mario’s for pizza,” I offered.

  “Good idea. Doesn’t half the school hang out there on there on the weekends?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Show your face, Iz. Don’t hide. You did nothing wrong.”

  His words penetrated my brain, and suddenly I was more restless than before. The walls were closing in, and I needed to get out and breathe fresh air. I also needed to eat greasy pizza in a pizza joint.

  Jake asked to speak to one of the guys, and I handed the phone to Matt. He spoke softly, mostly ‘um hm’ and ‘uh huh’ so I didn’t get much out of the conversation. He ended the call with a wide grin. “Jake said he’d call you later. Let’s go get some pizza.”

  Mario’s was quite crowded when we arrived. Everyone took a turn at staring but it only fueled Ronnie’s smirk. He threw an arm around me and followed Matt, Zach, Annie and Cammy to a table. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lance sitting in a booth with his current flavor of the month. He refused to look our way.

  A few people approached our table to ask me about the article. One person even asked if I was going to sue. Ronnie and Matt never let me answer. They both politely, but firmly, referred them all to my father.

  “But I’m sure they’ll sue any moron who feeds any garbage about Iz to any of these rag magazines,” Ronnie announced rather loudly. He flashed Matt a quick smile. “After that moron deals with us.”

  I asked the waitress for a to go box, suddenly preferring the confines of my room.

  ***

  Jake called later that night after Ronnie and Matt retired to the guest dorms. His voice was laced in exhaustion, and I worried that he was stretching himself too thin.

  “Jake, why did you have to fly out to L.A.?” I asked.

  He exhaled slowly. “Just had to straighten out a mess. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”

  “When will you be home?” I sounded like a spoiled child but I’d had a miserable day. My love life had been splattered all over a tabloid and Jake was thousands of miles away. I just desperately wanted him closer.

  “A day or two,” he muttered as he yawned. “But I don’t know if I’ll be able to see you until spring break.”

  My heart fell to my feet although I was getting used to not seeing him for weeks at a time. “It’s okay,” I sighed.

  “Sorry, Iz. I can’t help it.” His tone was stern with a hard edge. He never spoke that way to me.

  “I know, Jake, it’s fine,” I answered a little curt. I closed my eyes as guilt washed over me. He’d spent most of the day protecting me, and if he was a little grumpy and tired, I should be a little more patient. “Are you okay? You sound tired.”

  “I am tired,” he admitted. He took a long deep breath. “I’m sorry, Iz. It’s just been a long day.”

  “I understand. Go get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I ordered. “Thanks for all you did today.”

  “Not a problem. Night, Iz.”

  ***

  The rest of the weekend passed by too quickly and before I knew it, I was saying goodbye to Ronnie and Matt. They made me promise to call if things got too bad and they’d be right back down.

  I kept in contact with my father regularly. He said no one had called the magazine with any information on me but if they did, the magazine promised to call him first for verification. It was a little comforting, knowing my dad would set the lies straight, but I still wasn’t sure what anyone would want to tell. And if they did tell anything, would the magazine embellish?

  Jake was still in L.A., still mum about his business, but said he’d be home that weekend. He’d had contractors working on his house, and he wanted to make sure it was all done before spring break.

  Cammy, Annie and I were sitting in the Student Center Thursday evening finishing up our homework when Karen Lange rushed into the room. She switched the channel we were watching and turned on some entertainment news program. I was about to protest when the hostess, a forty-something woman with fake breasts and lots of plastic surgery, mentioned Jake’s name. I froze as ice ran through my veins. Cammy let out a tiny yelp when the picture of me and Jake suddenly popped up on screen. I groaned and hid my face in my hands, peeking through my fingers.

  “Hot on the heels of the breaking story about bad boy Jake Johnson’s new love, Isabella Ames, finds us asking just how serious he really is about the young beauty,” Ms. Silicone announced.

  I nearly gagged. And really, why did they keep calling Jake a bad boy?

  Film footage played behind the hostess as she continued to speak. But I didn’t hear a word she said as I watched an image of Jake, dressed in a dark suit and sunglasses, wrap his arm around the waist of some female I didn’t recognize, and escort her into a building. My heart stopped.

  “Jake Johnson reportedly flew to L.A. early this week to come to the aid of his former love, Monique DuVois, who, sources say, has been in a little trouble with the law. Witnesses reported Jake has been escorting her all around town, including to the L.A. County Courthouse. Courthouse officials have been mum about what sort of business the couple had with the court.” Ms. Silicone flashed an evil grin and hate coursed through my body. I absolutely despised her. “Speculations are flying as to whether or not the couple is reconciling and if they are,” she paused as the picture of Jake and I returned to the screen, “what will become of sweet Isabella?”

  I was conscious of all eyes on me as I slammed my book shut. “How the hell do they know I’m so sweet?”

  I stormed out of the Center and made my way back to my room, ignoring the curious gazes of my classmates. I threw my books to my bed and paced the small room, anger swirling in my mind.

  My phone rang and I checked the number. It was Seth and I let him go to voice mail. I was in no mood to talk.

  The door flew open and admitted Annie, Cammy, Karen and Zach.

  “I’m fine, honest,” I said before any of them could speak. I stopped pacing and rubbed my temples, cell phone still in hand. “I’ll call Jake in a few minutes, and he’ll explain it all.” I looked at Annie, her face covered with doubt. “Right?”

  Before she could answer, my phone rang again.

  It was Jake.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Ignore it, Iz. You know better than to believe any of that crap,” was the first thing out of his mouth.

  “Hi to you, too,” I bit out, frost clinging to my voice.

  “Let’s go hang out in Cammy’s room,” Annie suggested. I could have kissed her.

  Jake sighed, the exhaustion still very evident in his voice. “I’m really sorry, Iz. I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  I waited until the door shut completely before answering. “What is going on? Are you home? Are you in L.A.? Are you staying with her?

  “Slow down, okay?” His voice bordered on nervous anxiety. “No, I’m not home. I’m still in L.A. but I’m staying in my condo near the studio. Monique is not staying here. She’s at home where she’s been all week.”

  I took a deep, shaky breath, hoping to suck back my tears.

  “Just tell me the truth. Why are you there? Why are you not telling me everything? What are you doing with your ex-girlfriend? And why do I have to see all this on TV before you even tell me?” I took a quick breath, trying to slow my frantic mind. “I do trust you, Jake - I truly do. But it’s getting harder and harder with you being all the way over there and me being stuck here and not knowing what the hell is going on!”

  He inhaled deeply; I had a suspicion he was smoking a cigarette. He c
leared his throat. “Monique called me earlier this week. She’s been having problems with her boyfriend. He’s an alcoholic, and I helped her get him in rehab back in November. He’s been out for a while now, but he went on a drinking binge and beat her up. She asked me to help her get a restraining order on him and keep the whole incident quiet and out of the papers.”

  I believed him—I really, truly did—but it hurt, selfishly so, that he rushed to her aid. I knew it was childish and just downright stupid to feel that way, but I did. A couple tears slid down my face.

  “Do you still love her?” I whispered.

  “What? Do I love her? No, Iz. Not at all,” the pitch of his voice rose steadily. He was near panic. “She’s my friend and I care about what happens to her, but I don’t love her, Iz. I promise you that.”

  I sniffed, slightly appeased. “Why did you two break up?”

  “Are you crying?” he asked, astonished.

  “No,” I lied. “Now answer me, please.”

  He released a long breath and I could almost picture him running his hands through his hair. “I explained to you about the physical part – how our relationship seemed based solely on that. She started seeing other guys behind my back and so I tried to get back at her, and I dated other women. Not smart, I know. Plus, I got caught by the tabloids and was labeled the bad boy.”

  That didn’t reassure me in the least. Not a bit.

  And he realized that. “Iz, I was young and stupid. I promise you…no, I swear to you that you’re the only one, and I’d never do something like that to you. Ever. I love you.”

  “I know,” I relented. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to staunch the tear flow. “I just wish you were here.”

  “I’ll be home this weekend and I’ll drive down to see you,” he said.

  “No, you’ll be too tired. Just wait till next weekend.” I didn’t want to wait that long to see him but I also didn’t want him falling asleep at the wheel driving down here to soothe my silly insecurities.

  “We’ll talk about it when I get back to Chicago,” he decided. His voice gentled. “Are you okay? Has anyone been hassling you?”

  “Only the tabloids,” I mumbled.

  He chuckled softly. “I love you, Iz. Get some rest and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “I love you.” I dropped the phone on my bed and then stumbled to the bathroom to wash my face. When I finished, I snatched my phone from my bed and ran to Cammy’s room.

  “Are you okay?” Annie asked as she hugged me.

  I nodded, freeing myself from her arms. As I explained the latest, a wave of exhaustion swept over my body and made me long for my bed. I headed for the door when my phone rang again. I frowned at the strange number and Annie snatched it from my hand.

  “Hello?” she barked as her brows knitted together. “Do you know a Greta?”

  I smiled as I reached for the phone. “Hey, Greta! How are you?”

  “I should be asking you,” she said. “I saw that awful report on Entertainment This Week. I cannot stand Monique. Anyway, Dad and I were worried so I thought I’d call and check on you. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. Thank your dad for me, too.”

  “Oh I will,” she said. “Listen, if you need to get off campus for a while, Dad said you could come here. I know you can go home, but I remember you saying how busy your parents were.”

  “Thanks, Greta.” Her offer sounded like Heaven, but I also knew Jake was right. “I’m going to stick around here. The school won’t allow reporters on campus so I don’t have to worry about it. I’m not going to run from them.”

  “Good for you,” she said. “Give me a call if you need anything or if you just want to talk.”

  “I will,” I said as my heart filled with appreciation. “Thanks a lot, Greta. Take care.”

  Squeezing my phone in my hand, I announced I was going to bed.

  ***

  I woke up Saturday morning, one week before Jake’s birthday and the start of our spring break, disappointed and a little hurt. I hadn’t heard from him at all since that awful Thursday night.

  I stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to sort my feelings when Annie strolled in, fresh from Admin with her mail. Cammy was hot on her heels and I had a horrifying feeling I wasn’t going to like anything they had to say to me.

  “What?” I asked, returning my gaze to the warped ceiling tiles.

  Annie sat at the foot of my bed and carefully set a magazine on my stomach. I snatched it and threw the blankets back, swinging my legs to the floor.

  “Not again!” I exclaimed, glaring at the cover of the latest Star Gazer. There were four photos on the cover and one of them was of Jake shielding Monique as they walked into a building. ‘What is Bad Boy Jake Up to Now?’ the headline blared.

  I threw the magazine to the floor and headed to the bathroom. I slammed the door but couldn’t shut out Annie’s voice. “You should at least read the article. You need to see what they’re saying about you.”

  Ignoring her, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was a mess: Dark circles under my eyes, hair limp, face splotchy. It reminded me of the horrible weeks after Christmas break. I was sensing a trend. After splashing cold water on my face, I returned to an anxious Annie and a nervous Cammy. I took the magazine from Annie’s hand and sat on my bed. I flipped through the pages until I found the article.

  IS JAKE FORSAKING SWEET ISABELLA?

  Jake Johnson, lead singer for the group Controlled Environment, was spotted last week in L.A. escorting French actress and former love, Monique DuVois all over town. Witnesses say Jake accompanied Monique to an L.A. County courthouse and although courthouse officials were mum on what the couple was doing there, many speculate they were applying for a marriage license.

  “This is utter trash. Where do they come up with it?” I asked, not really expecting an answer. I sighed and continued reading.

  Meanwhile, Jake’s latest love, Isabella Ames, is finishing high school at an elite boarding school in Central Indiana. A representative for Miss Ames refused to comment at this time on whether or not the couple is still together or if they broke it off so Jake could pursue Monique once again.

  The rest of the story highlighted Jake’s relationship with Monique, and I couldn’t stomach it. I shut the magazine and carefully handed it back to Annie.

  “I think I’ll shower and then we can go in town and grab some junk food.”

  After my shower and several phone calls, mostly from my dad and none from Jake, we grabbed our jackets and headed to Annie’s car. I wanted a cheeseburger and fries in the worst way. And a chocolate shake.

  I wasn’t prepared for what awaited us in the parking lot. A small group of people huddled around the edges of the lot and pointed at me when we emerged through the gates. A couple cameras clicked as someone called my name.

  “Isabella! I’m Candi Smith, reporter for the Star Gazer. I wonder if I could have a second of your time,” a thin, blonde woman wearing entirely too much mascara called.

  I gaped at her, a little shocked. Although Jake sort of prepared me for this, I still wasn’t expecting it. “No, absolutely not. Leave me alone.”

  They all converged on us, snapping pictures and barking out questions. Annie grabbed my arm and shoved me in the back seat of her car. She and Cammy scrambled inside and fired up the engine. Annie nearly took a few out as she peeled out of the parking lot.

  I scrunched down in the back seat, trying to fight the tears in my eyes. What was wrong with these people? What did they want from me? What did they care if Jake and I were together or not?

  “Call Jake, Bella,” Annie ordered, eyeing me in her rear view mirror. “Call him right now.”

  I nodded and dug my phone out of my pocket. I hit his number but it went straight to voice mail.

  “Jake, call me back immediately, please,” I begged, tears finally escaping. After my leaving my plea, I curled up in the seat. “Take me to Burger Kastle, please.”
<
br />   Annie parked in a reporter-free lot, and I began to relax. My shoulders ached from constant tension and I rubbed at them, trying to loosen the knot while we placed our orders.

  Two girls behind the counter eyed us, whispering quietly to each other. They assembled our order and the bolder one carried our tray to the counter. I reached for it, a ‘thank you’ on my lips, when she spoke.

  “You’re Jake Johnson’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” she asked, eyes accusing.

  “So what if she is?” Annie asked, stepping up to the counter. “What’s it to you?”

  The girl looked straight at me as she responded. “I think it is total crap that some stuck up boarding school girl lands him when there are nice, normal girls around who would be much better for him.”

  I snorted - I couldn’t help it. It just came out. And I suppose it sounded as though I was looking down on her but in all actuality, I wasn’t. I knew I was no better than her. But the way she said it—normal? I’m not normal? So maybe I ramble and blurt things out at inappropriate times, but that didn’t make me abnormal, did it?

  The Burger Kastle girl took my snort entirely the wrong way. She lifted the lid off one of the cups and tossed the shake in my face. The strawberry one. I hate strawberry milkshakes. Annie scrambled over the counter but Cammy grabbed her before she could get too far. I stood there, frozen, almost literally, strawberry ice cream dripping off my chin. An older man in line behind us grabbed a gob of napkins from the holder on the counter and offered them to me. I tried to thank him but when I opened my mouth, strawberry shake ran in it. And I hate strawberry shakes.

  The manager appeared, purple-faced, as Annie, Cammy and the two workers yelled out their stories. Thankfully, the people in line with us corroborated our story and the manager ordered the two workers to the back room. He apologized profusely to me and offered our meal on the house but I had no appetite. I continued to dab strawberry shake off my face as I walked numbly out the door. I dropped the whole sticky clump of napkins in a trash can and headed to Annie’s car. Once we climbed in, she turned to me, sorrow mixed with anger in her pretty eyes, and asked where I wanted to go.