by Maya Hughes
“I left the tour. I found out some stuff about Eric that meant I couldn’t stay on any longer.” She gulped down some wine to buy more time.
“I’ll keep refilling the glass, maybe some more wine will loosen those lips.”
“He asked me on the tour for his image. To make him more appealing to female fans. It was never about my art, it was about how I looked and how they could spin things for the press.”
“He said that?”
“No, I overheard him talking to his ex. She was all hugged up on him and laughing about how the studio had put him up to bringing me on tour.”
“And he admitted that?”
“Yes, pretty much,” she hung her head, running her finger around the rim of her glass.
“And then what?”
“We fought, he said he didn’t think it was that big of a deal and I just had to get out of there.”
“Keira, seriously?” Her sister dipped her head, trying to catch her eye. “You just walked out?”
“I packed my bags, told him I needed some space and left.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?” she shrieked.
“Quiet, you’re going to wake Amy.”
“That’s my line and that kid sleeps like the dead. It would take nothing less than a jet crashing into the house to wake her up. You didn’t just have it out and figure this thing out?”
“I wasn’t going to have a Paulo situation happen all over again.” Her sister threw her hands up in the air.
“Not with that asshole again.”
“What? You don’t know what it was like. How humiliating that was to be told the only reason I got that spot was because of him. Plus, there were other things going on,” she said, drifting off.
“You don’t think I know what it’s like to be humiliated by someone you care about? You think that zero dates in high school, being called every name in the book for a lesbian and being invited to prom by Sean Stevens as a joke, means I don’t know what it’s like to be humiliated when it comes to dating?” Her voice raising with each second. “No, Keira. I wouldn’t know anything about that would I, prom queen?” Keira’s head snapped up, staring at her sister.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, trying to placate her sister.
“Of course you didn’t because you were always too scared to confront someone when they screwed you over. Always trying to be everyone’s friend. Me on the other hand, I take those things head on and don’t let people get away with any shit.”
“I guess I’m not as strong as you,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
“Bullshit, stop being so dramatic. You are, you just hate confrontation and don’t like to get anyone upset. Which is probably why everyone loves you so much.”
Keira snorted. “You don’t think that’s true?”
“Hardly,” she said, draining her glass. Izzy grabbed the bottle and filled it up again.
“Keira, when are you going to face the truth? You’re one of those girls that other girls hate because of how easy everything seemed to come to you. I have to admit I’m glad I was older and went through school ahead of you because if I’d had to follow you, I’m sure I would have hated you,” she laughed, refilling her own glass. “How long are you hiding out here for?”
“I’m not hiding out. And until tomorrow night. Then I don’t know what to do. I guess leaving things where they are with Eric isn’t great and I just left without saying anything to him.” She hung her head. This secret with his dad was a ticking time bomb. She needed to tell him. Needed to go back.
“Or I could always go on tour with Matty B…” she said, trailing off.
“Matty B?” her sister said, nearly knocking her glass over, wine sloshed out onto the table.
“Yup, it seems that word has gotten out about me.” She took another sip of her wine.
“And yet you took that asshole Paulo’s word about your art. I don’t get you. Always so quick to believe anything negative that anyone says about you.”
“That’s not true.” She protested.
“Why didn’t you submit to that art scholarship senior year?”
“That’s not fair. I wasn’t finished with the project I was going to submit.”
“No, you pussed out and wouldn’t submit one of your equally amazing photo pieces because Mr. McNamara said maybe you should go with that.”
“He was my art teacher.”
“He was a hack and he didn’t want you to win that award.”
“What about the apprenticeship during our junior year of college?”
“The one in Paris?” Her sister shot her a duh look.
“Yes, the one in Paris, did you have any other ones out there that I didn’t know about?”
“I didn’t get it.”
“You got it. I found the letter. You got that apprenticeship and you freaked out because Matthew told you that you wouldn’t be able to hack it.”
“That’s not true, I wasn’t ready.” And Matthew had said, she’d be embarrassed when she showed up there and wouldn’t make the cut with other artists of a much higher caliber. She still remembered how her gut had twisted as he picked through her portfolio.
“They obviously thought you were ready. They selected you from hundreds of applicants, Keira. They thought you were good enough, but you let your fear get in the way. That’s why you’re working as an art instructor instead of pursuing your dream.”
“Hey, I love teaching.”
“Of course you do, because it’s safe. Always taking the path of least resistance.”
“I’m doing this tour thing. I stepped out of my comfort zone to do that,” she said pointedly. Her sister’s judgement hanging between them.
“Only because you had no other choice. You were up against a wall and have no savings and that’s why you did it, isn’t it?” Keira glanced off to the side taking another sip of her wine. “Exactly. Stop being so damn afraid all the time, Keira.” Izzy reached across the table and covered her hand, squeezing it. She glanced up and held her sister’s gaze.
“You’re an amazing artist. You see things that other people can’t see. You capture things with your lens and with your sketch pad that other people can’t. You can’t be afraid to put yourself out there. If you are, then no one gets to enjoy the things you create.” Keira nodded, her throat tight. She clenched her hands under the table, tears filling her eyes.
“Okay, enough with this sappy stuff. Let’s break out the real stuff.” Izzy hopped up from the chair and went to the liquor cabinet. She grabbed a couple of shot glasses and a bottle of tequila, shaking it at her. “Let’s do this!”
The rest of the night kicked up a notch once they hit a half-finished bottle of tequila. Shots with limes and salt turned into a game of truth or dare that may have ended with Izzy streaking through her backyard and a few catcalls across the fence to the giant next door. Izzy tackled Keira to the ground as she called out to get his attention. A light flicked on as Keira glanced up from down in the grass. She tried to push Izzy off, but her sister had her pinned down.
“Get off me, you big bully,” she said, struggling to breathe. “You’re going to kill me!”
“I can’t believe you did that,” she whispered. A window slid open and Evan stuck his gorgeous head out.
“You’re the one that said I needed to be braver. I’m helping you do it to,” she said, picking grass out of her teeth.
“Izzy?” he called out, sleepily. Izzy popped up, leaving her sister down in the grass. She leaned against the fence, trying to look casual.
“Hey, Evan. I’m sorry we woke you up. Just me and Keira having a girls’ night in,” she said, pulling Keira up from the grass. She waved at Evan and he waved back.
“Hey, Evan, my sister thinks you’re really hot,” Keira blurted before her sister could react. Izzy’s eyes got as wide as saucers. “And—” Izzy slapped a hand over her mouth and dragged her toward the back door.
“Is that so?” Evan called from his win
dow. Keira nodded while Izzy tried to shove her inside. “Tell her I think she’s pretty hot too,” he said, staring directly at Izzy. Her hand dropped from Keira’s mouth and she stood there with her mouth wide open. “Good night ladies,” he said before closing his window and turning his light off. From the dopey look on her sister’s face, Keira knew it was the right move. Maybe it would light a fire under them. Now, if only she could figure out her own life.
They spent the rest of the night on the couch going through old pictures before passing out. The sunlight streaming through the open curtains woke them about ten minutes before Amy popped out of bed, ready to start her day in that sunshiny way of hers. Her chipper voice, cut through their hangovers like a knife.
“Morning, kiddo. Let’s get you some breakfast,” her sister said, dragging herself off the couch. The three of them had a packed day, complete with a trip to the zoo and dinner from the grill courtesy of Evan. After dinner, Izzy drove Keira to the airport and made her promise that she would stop wimping out and start taking real chances, even if she wasn’t backed into a corner.
She’d do it. She’d definitely do it. Starting tomorrow…
27
Laying in one of the bunks across from the bathroom, Eric stared up at the coffin-like ceiling of the bed overhead. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to sleep in the bed since Keira left two days ago. After laying in the queen-sized bed, tossing and turning for hours on the first night, he gave up, grabbed his pillow and climbed into one of the bunks. The harder mattress, walls that seemed to be closing in on him and claustrophobic feel went along with his current mood, which was piss-poor.
Tomorrow night, he’d have his first show, since she’d left and dread made his skin crawl at the thought of getting up on stage in front of his fans and baring his soul. It didn’t give him the freeing, energized rush that usually came when he thought about getting up on stage. After almost a half-bottle of vodka, he’d given up trying to write his song about her. The rawness of her walking out ate at him and made him want to curl up in the bunk and sleep for a while.
His mom sent him about ten texts asking him to call her back, but he couldn’t even do that. She’d been wrong about Keira. She said how much she cared about him, if she cared, why had she left? He sent Keira text messages and left voicemails, but she hadn’t responded. The door of the bus banged open.
“Steve, can you get me another bottle of Jack?” he called out. Maybe Jack would provide more inspiration that vodka hadn’t provided. A bottle was thrust through the curtain that shrouded his bunk in darkness. He reached for it, the cold condensation of it rolling over his hand. When he grabbed it he touched a noticeably non-hairy hand. He sat up quickly, banging his head on the top of the bunk. Fuck, that hurt. He rubbed his hand on his head and whipped back the curtain, swinging his legs out of the bunk, wrong move as the room swam, but there was one highlight. Keira.
She stood across from the bunk. He glanced to the side and saw her suitcase sitting in the aisle of the bus.
“You’re back,” he whispered. She opened her mouth and snapped it shut. Her throat tensed and she started again.
“I came back,” she said, softly. “I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry about everything. I shouldn’t have let what she said get to me, but it hurt me, Eric.” Her voice cracked as she wrapped her hands around her waist. She glanced up at him. “You hurt me. I thought that everything that you said you felt for me was all part of an act. Just for show and I couldn’t take knowing that,” she hesitated, peering down at her feet. “What I felt for you, you didn’t feel back for me.” Her gaze shot up and she looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“I told you how I felt about you, Keira. I told you how I felt, that I loved you and you walked out on me,” he said, standing still as a statue. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and pull her back into the bedroom and show her how much he missed her, but old pain resurfaced. She’d left him. Who’s to say she wouldn’t leave him again, when he was even deeper in love? How could he take that chance again?
“I know, I’m sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but what happened brought back an old wound I’ve been trying to deal with and this just exposed it like a raw nerve.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Can we sit?” She gestured to the booth. He nodded and she pushed off the wall, sliding into the booth. He grabbed one of the chairs across from her.
“I was supposed to showcase my work at a gallery show last year. It was going to be my first big show,” she said, staring at her hands folded in front of her. The table shook as her leg bounced up and down under the table.
“Okay,” he said, encouraging her. “What happened?” He reached out and covered her folded hands with his. She peered up, a small smile on her face.
“I was presenting with my ex, he wasn’t my ex then, but you know what I mean. We’d both been selected and I was ecstatic. Then a week before the show we had a fight. A huge fight and he blew up at me.” His hands tightened on hers.
“He hit you?” he said, nearly shouting. Her head whipped up and she shook her head, eyes wide.
“No, never. Paulo may have been an asshole, but he wasn’t an abusive asshole. Anyway,” she said, letting out a sigh. “He told me the real reason I’d been selected for the show. He said he had them include me as a favor because we were dating.”
“I don’t believe that for one second,” he said, pulling her hands apart and threading his fingers through them.
“You don’t?”
“No, I’ve seen your work and while I’m not an art critic, anyone can see that you have talent. What happened next?” He squeezed her hand to encourage her to continue. She let out a deep breath.
“After I kicked him out?” she said, smiling.
“Yeah, after you kicked him out,” he chuckled.
“I called up the gallery and told them I was pulling all of my work from the show.”
“What? Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t want to be included in that show just because of who I was sleeping with. I didn’t want people to know that the only reason I was there was because of him,” she stared into his eyes and the vulnerability and insecurity shone through. He sighed. It all made sense now. Why she’d been so hesitant to get involved with him, why she’s been so worried about people knowing they were together.
“And you thought that the same thing was happening with you being on tour with me?” She nodded. “It had nothing to do with that. I knew you were amazing long before we ever started anything. Other than you puking on me,” he said, trying to pull a smile from her.
“I know, but I freaked out. When I was going through my email and voicemails from when we were with Uncharted, I found one from the gallery. Some of my stuff was still there and they’d had some offers. People somehow managed to get a look at what I’d made. I was shocked, so I called them up and they pretty much told me everything Paulo said was bullshit. I let him determine how I saw what I created. I let him influence me and lost out on a great opportunity. I don’t want to do that again,” she said, cupping his face in her hands. She gave him a gentle kiss on his lips and he pulled her onto his lap.
“I’m glad you’re back,” he whispered against her lips.
“I’m glad I’m back too,” she said, as he ran his hands up under her shirt. Moving into the bedroom, they both finally let their guard completely down and made love slowly. Their emotions gave them the kind of high they’d never reached before, even in their more explosive sessions.
Keira propped her head up on her elbow and watched him sleep. A small pang hit her. She’d promised not to leave him again, but would he want to be with her once he found out the secret she’d been hiding. She’d have to get in touch with his mom soon and make sure she told him and maybe she could help minimize the damage.
28
Sunlight filtered in through the blinds, shining across Keira’s face. She stretched her arms overhead a
nd yawned. Eric snuggled in tighter against her, wrapping his arms around her waist and laying his head on her shoulder. She smiled and brushed some of his hair off his forehead. Everything that happened yesterday faded away with his arms wrapped around her.
She’d come so close to losing this, losing him. Gently unwrapping his arms from around her waist, she slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom. After she finished, she came out to find Smithy, Eric’s manager storming down the hall to the bedroom. His face red with exertion, sweat pouring down his forehead. Keira stepped out in front of him. Determination and anger written over his face, his eyes were fixed on the door behind her.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
His head snapped up to hers, he blinked and pulled a folded magazine out of his back pocket.
“This happened,” he said, pointing at the cover of the tabloid. Ugly headlines ran across both of them.
Up and coming music star turns his back on his doting father.
My son has disowned me and won’t tell me why.
Keira dropped the magazine to the ground and took a step back, banging into the wall behind her. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand and stared wide-eyed at Smithy.
“What the hell? Why would he say this?”
“I don’t fucking know! Eric’s been looking for his dad every chance that he can. Didn’t even know his dad was looking for him. And then for him to pull this shit! I can’t believe it.” Smithy angrily snatched the magazine off the floor and folded it back up in his hand.
“She was right.”
“Who was right?”
Keira glanced over her shoulder at the bedroom door. She dragged Smithy back a few steps and lowered her voice.
“Eric’s mom,” she whispered.
“What does she have to do with this?”
“She’d paid Eric’s dad to stay away.” Smithy’s head snapped up and his eyes bulged as he glanced back to the bedroom door.
“What do you mean she’s paid him to stay away?” he shouted. Keira shh’ed him.
