Oreos
for Breakfast: Chapter Two
By The Paperbag Princess and The
Pumpkin Coach
Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4 | Page 5
I was signing, and nodding as they talked to me, and smiling for pictures, until I heard someone say "Sudden Silence."
I went over to AJ, who was holding a CD and looking intently at a fan talking to him. "They covered 'Get Another Boyfriend' in Pittsburgh."
AJ smirked at me, raising his eyebrows, and I tried not to grab the CD out of his hands.
Pittsburgh? It must have been after our show, that's right, Frank told me she wanted the music to it.
"It's not a great copy, but I thought you'd like to hear it."
"It's fantastic, thank you. I really appreciate it." He kissed her cheek and Frank led us inside, past the fans in the lobby. AJ was examining the CD liner, which had a set list on it. Not that I could read it, because he was pretending great interest in it.
Finally we were alone in the elevator, and I grabbed for the CD. Laughing, he hid behind Frank. "Its mine, Nicky! They gave it to me!"
"You don't even know her!" I protested, lunging the wrong way as he moved.
"Neither do you! Did you see that girl? She thinks Rachel is mine!"
I stopped lunging, glaring at him. "What do you mean?"
He giggled, doing his fan voice. "Your friend's band, AJ… nudge nudge, wink wink, need I say more?"
"They never get anything right. Give that to me!"
The elevator door opened and he ducked past me. "Dunno, Nick, she's pretty hot. And I think she was flirting with me the other night."
"She was not!" I went to tackle him, but he dodged me and I ended up running into a wall.
"Oh, yeah, she was grinning at me. I know she loved it when I tore my shirt off during 'Get Another Boyfriend,' that's probably why they covered it. Yeah, Nicky, its all about A. Jiggity."
I followed him into his room before he could slam the door in my face. "Stop calling yourself that, Alex."
Rachel did not like AJ! Rachel liked me!
He jumped on the couch as I grabbed for the CD again, holding it out of my reach.
"Give up, dawg, she is way too much woman for you. Did you see her in those leather pants? Damn!"
I glared up at him, and he laughed.
"Oh, you have got it bad. No way is this gonna work, you need to chill out."
"Why can't it work?"
He stepped off the sofa, going over to his CD player. "Because nothing works on the road. She's touring, you're touring, how the fuck is that supposed to work?"
"Her tour is over in two weeks. I found it on their website."
He popped open the player and pulled out the CD that was already in there, tossing it over his shoulder. "Yeah, and a woman like her is going to follow you all over the country, dealing with our crazy lives. I fucking doubt it."
He put Rachel's CD in, checking the liner notes. I decided to stop arguing with him and just listen to the track. He'd been moody lately, and I didn't want to get into it with him.
Her voice came out of the speakers. "If any of you know this one, I'm taking away your license for indie cred!" It was a pretty decent bootleg, not too much crowd noise.
The drums hit first, one beat, then the others slammed in, probably three times as fast as we ever did it. AJ and I just looked at one another, stunned. Jeremy did the first verse, stumbling a bit and laughing as he did, then she took my verse, biting out the lyrics.
Let's talk about what he's done
to become your number one
or was it all the promises of diamonds, pearls
and party dresses that turn you on
The others yelled out 'go, Rache!' obviously impressed that she hadn't missed a word. Hell, I screwed up that line sometimes, and we didn't do it this fast.
Did Rachel know our stuff before the show? Had she been practicing?
The middle 8 kicked in, and she and Jeremy yelled 'STOP!' and the band did, leaving silence for Rachel to wail out AJ's 'hey-yyyy'. Perfectly.
The band kicked back in and AJ howled. "Damn, she is fucking good!"
"I know!" I told him. "Why does no one ever listen to me?"
"Because you dated the wonderful Willa for so long, we have no faith in your taste in women." I went to slug him and he danced out of my way. "Why the hell don't I have Miss Rachel's CD?"
I found the bag I'd brought in from the mall. "Here." I held up a new copy of their latest album. "Give me that one," I said, nodding towards the player.
"No way, man, that was a present just for me. Her boyfriend," he taunted.
The more I whined, the more he would tease me. "I'll burn you a copy. Gimme."
He scowled at me, realizing I wasn't playing along any longer, and popped the CD out, handing it over. "Now, why are you able to give me a shrink wrapped copy of her CD? Don't you already have a copy of it?"
"I was shopping." We exchanged CDs, and he gave me a blank look. "I figure they could use the sales!"
He laughed. "How many copies of her CD do you have?"
"Um… a few." Five of the first album and seven of the second. I'd give them away. I kept a copy on my bus and another in my Walkman. Coasters?
"Dawg, you have it so bad. You just need to nail her and get it out of your system."
No. This was not a cheap sex sort of crush. I wanted to know the story behind every song she'd ever written. "Yeah, well, who knows when I'll see her again."
AJ rolled his eyes, sitting down in the nearest chair. "Nicky, Nicky, Nicky. This is not rocket science. You have her phone number, yes?"
I nodded. I did, a business card that said 'Rachel Connor, rock star, Sudden Silence, Inc.' It was the coolest thing I'd ever seen.
He went on, explaining like he was talking to a kid. I was used to this tone from the rest of my band. "And now you have something she wants."
"What? Oh!" The CD! Rachel probably didn't have one!
Chuckling, he leaned back in his chair. "Yes, another lesson in the art of seduction from Uncle Alex. Call her, arrange a meet, and the deed is done. Then get her out of your system and move on. I mean it, Nick, she's too much for you."
"I'm not an idiot, Alex. I think I could deal with her. I dated Mandy for about three years, if I can do that, I can do anything."
"And what a disaster that was, my dear. No, we are limited to the sort of girls who don't mind following us around. Women with lives of their own are strictly off limits to the likes of us popstars."
I started to protest and he waved me away. "Leave me now. Call the fair Rachel, I know you want to."
"Rachel Connor!" I sing-songed. The caller ID on my cell phone told me the number was blocked, maybe the promoter for tomorrow's show?
"Oh! Rachel, um, hi, I was expecting your voicemail."
I blinked at the Florida twang on my phone. This could not be who I thought it was.
"I keep getting your voicemail. This is Nick. Nick Carter?"
Good fucking god.
He hesitated when I didn't say anything. "Remember me?"
I laughed. "Sorry, they all run together, those boy bands that I hang with. Now, are you the tall blond one, or the little one with the funny goatee?"
He laughed. He had a good laugh, a funny little 'heh heh' that made me smile. "The tall blond."
"Sure you're not the tall really hot brunette?"
"Sorry, he's married."
"Damnit. I suppose I'll settle for you, then." We both laughed.
She has no interest in me whatsoever. She likes Kevin? I never would have seen that one. She's way more AJ's type. He was right, I should have listened to him. She's too much for me. I should be on the phone with safe little Tiffani right now.
"Thanks for the other night, really," she told me. "It was an amazing show."
"Not exactly the sort of show you do, I know…"
She interrupted me. "No, and that was cool. Although it's spoiling me, now I want costume changes and dance moves! The boys will not listen to me about that."
I called her for a reason, didn't I? "But they did let you do a cover of one of our songs, didn't they?"
She gasped, making me grin at the phone. "What are you talking about?" She nearly shrieked.
"You did a pretty good job," I reassured her, trying not to laugh at the panic in her voice.
"Were you there? You couldn't have been, I barely got there in time and I left before your show ended!" She sounded positively horrified and I had to laugh.
"One of our fans just handed AJ a bootleg of it."
"Oh my god." How did his fans did that? Shouldn't they all have been at his show? Why were his fans at one of our shows?
"Ya' know, I mess up those lyrics all the time and we don't do it half as fast."
I laughed. At least he wasn't calling me to sue us for copyright infringement or anything. "Years of singing in a rock band. Did you hate it? I'm sorry, it was a total lark, we'll never do it again."
"Rachel! It's amazing! I wish our version was that cool."
I grinned at the phone. I couldn't wait to tell the others that he liked it. Had the rest of his band heard it?
"You said the fans gave it to AJ, did he listen to it?"
"You have a new fan. He'd heard a couple of your tracks and liked them, but this blew him away."
Why did the opinion of this talentless pop band mean so much to me? "Brian was at our show in Pittsburgh, so he likes us. Kevin told me how much he likes us. Who's the other one?"
"Howie." I could hear the smile in his voice. I wasn't sure if he was amused that I didn't know Howie's name or that I did know the names of the others now. He loved that I didn't know anything about his band. I suppose that was unusual, in his world. No one knew my band, I was used to it.
"Howie! Does he like us?"
"Um… dunno. I'll ask him." I heard a door open and shut. Did he mean right now?
"Did Kevin and Brian hear the cover? Did they like it?" Man, did it sound like I was begging for compliments? Calm down, Rache.
"They didn't hear it. I'll play it for them. They'll like it. You rock, Rache."
I should beg for compliments more often. I could hear some Britney Spears song in the background, getting louder. "What's with the music?"
He gave me a duh voice. "I'm going to Howie's room." I guess he did mean right now. "Howie!" He yelled, and I held the phone away from my ear. Pop stars should not be named Howie. It was just wrong. Kevin, AJ, Brian, Nick. Fine. Howie? "I'm on the phone, dawg, turn it down!" The music lessened.
"Sorry," Howie apologized and then scowled at me. "Go to your own room, why are you hanging out in the hallway complaining about my music?"
"It's Rachel." He gave me a blank look and I pleaded with him, mouthing 'vending machine girl' and he nodded, smiling. "Do you like her band?"
He rolled his eyes at me. Why did I come in here? Why did I keep hoping my supposed friends, brothers, band mates were going to make me look like less of an idiot in front of her?
It hadn't worked so far. AJ made her laugh, Brian played basketball with her and she thought Kevin was hot. That left Howie, she couldn't like Howie better than me, could she?
"No one ever listens to me. I told you on that flight to L.A., I've had the CD for months."
"You did not!" He turned around, looking through the CDs lying around his room, while Rachel asked, "What flight to L.A.?"
"We had a private jet, and AJ played your CD for everyone."
"AJ did what?" She shrieked.
Ugh. They were teasing me because I was crushed out on you and they played it to torture me. Only it didn't work, they all liked it.
All right, not telling her the truth on that one.
"Long story." Was the best I could come up with. "Howie liked it, right?" Damn if he didn't hold up her CD to me, smirking.
"If you had introduced me to her the other night, I would have told her so."
I kicked the wall and he took the phone out of my hand. Damnit, Howie always managed to snag the girls. I had no idea how. I was supposed to be the cute one!
"Rachel, I'm Howie Dorough, I'm sorry we didn't get to meet at the show the other night."
"It was a bit chaotic, it's OK."
"A friend of mine gave me your CD as a gift, she was right, I really enjoy it."
Aw. He was the sweet sensitive one, wasn't he? "Thank you. Your show was excellent, since we're handing out compliments."
"I doubt it's the sort of show you're used to."
I laughed, "That's what Nick said. I told him it was inspiring, I totally want cool little trap doors and shit now."
"Next time we see you…"
Is there going to be a next time? I can't believe I'm on the phone with him, and he's talking about next time? Nick was weird enough.
"I'll give you a tour of the whole stage, show you all the fun tricks."
"Cool. You'll have to see one of our shows, I'll, um, show you how to plug in an amp."
He laughed, "I'm sure Nicky will want to… hey!" I could hear a scuffle, muffled 'give me that!'s, then Nick was back on the phone.
"Sorry. He's always talking up the ladies."
I giggled. Howie was the ladies' man? Who would have thought? "He was very sweet. Thank you for assuring me that everyone in your band loves me." He did that chuckle that I liked so much as I heard a door slam, and "Pretend to be Nice" blared up. "Did he kick you out?"
"Yeah," he grumbled. "He's just trying to show me up, since he knew who you were before I did. The other fellas didn't, though!"
'Fellas'? Who uses words like 'fellas'?
He's so cute I can't stand it. Why is this popstar calling me? I so thought that I would have dropped off his radar screen when I ducked out of the Pittsburgh gig before anything happened. But he totally made up an excuse to call me… James is right, he's got a crush on me. I practically blushed at the thought.
It would just be cute if I didn't have one right back at him. Too young, too adorable, way too famous. No more pop stars, Rachel, it's the prime directive.
It completely sucked that I was attracted to them. I needed a nice safe stockbroker or something, but they did nothing for me. Now, Nicky here, 21 years old, in his sexual prime… that was my sort of boy toy.
I sighed, tuning back in to what he was saying. Still talking about the 'fellas'. "Have you driven them insane with my music yet?" I asked him.
"Yeah," he admitted cheerfully. "But they just ignore me. Well, they do that anyways… not just because I'm talkin' about you."
I giggled. Poor boy. "You're the baby, right?"
"In the band, yeah."
"I'm the youngest, two older brothers. I'm used to getting ignored, too."
"I'm the oldest in my family, though."
"How many?" He had a brother who sang, too. My niece Colleen loved him and … I think Katie, her older sister, loved Nick. I'd have to ask them.
"Five."
"Five? Good god! I didn't think people did that anymore. Is that weird, being the oldest and the youngest at once?"
I could practically see him shrug. "Sorta."
"What's that?" I asked as something clattered in the background. Enough about me. I didn't want to talk about me. I wanted to know everything about her. I had a running list of questions in my head about her songs and what certain lyrics meant. But I'd be damned if I could remember a single line now.
"I'm printing out directions to Philly for tomorrow." It got quieter, she must have walked away. "I know its straight up 95, but I need to know how to get to the boys' hotel."
"The boys?"
"Yeah, I stay with a friend in Philly whenever we're there."
Friend? Male or female?
Probably male. She probably has a boy in every city. Can I be Tampa? Orlando? Key West? I'd take the entire Florida region.
"Don't you have someone to figure out directions for you?"
She giggled madly, and I could hear a bed squeak as she moved. She's on a bed? Wonder what she's wearing?
"No, darling, that's my job. I'm the tour manager. I get us from place to place and book our hotels. And I keep the accounts."
"You do?" Wow. I had no idea how to do any of that. Even when we were just starting out, we had someone else to do all that. Mom or Lou took care of all those details for us.
She giggled again. I liked making her laugh. I didn't care if I had to sound like an idiot to do it. "Someone has to. We don't have a cast of thousands like some people," she said pointedly.
"Well, we… " I tried to protest and stopped myself. Never mind. We might both be in bands, but it was like another world.
"Yeah, don't even. It's the four of us and a little van and trailer that likes to lose one of its wheels from time to time."
"No roadies?" I couldn't wrap my mind around it.
"No roadies, no tour manager, no publicist, no wardrobe crew, no fricking massage therapist or whatever other decadent things you might have."
I decided not to tell her that we really did have a massage therapist on staff, and a chiropractor.
"Just the band. I do all the arrangements, Jeremy does the bookings, and…" her voice trailed off, and I could hear a TV click on in the background. "James and Darien do fuck all."
I laughed. "They must do something."
"No, they're our Backstreet Boys, they lie around in their hotel rooms," she teased. "Well, James keeps me amused and they both prevent me from killing Jeremy at any give time." She added off-handedly. Was James the boyfriend? No, there was a Philly boyfriend, right? Before I could ask her about it, she was talking again. "Where are you?"
"Um…" Where was she? "Hartford, The Four Seasons. Where are you?"
"The fricking Holiday Inn in Herndon, Virginia. I'm just pleased that we have MTV. You've got every channel in the world, don't you?" I started to answer her, but she went on. "Little blond ho! Why is she at number ten again?"
Please be talking about Britney. Christina. Jessica. Any of them, but not Amanda Willaford, please.
I glanced over at my TV, and there she was, the new and improved Mandy fucking Willaford, writhing around and singing that horrible song. Damnit.
Maybe Rachel doesn't know about her and me?
"Talentless hack, how did she even get a record contract? Hey…"
Damnit.
"Didn't one of you guys date her? It's Backstreet, right, not N Sync?"
"Umm…" I searched my brain for a comeback, but I was a lousy liar. Well, when I was trying. I lied all the time - yes, I'll come right back and sign that for you and take some pictures. Fan lies were easy. Real life lies, I was crap at those kind.
She snickered. "It is you guys! Which one, I can't remember. AJ? She seems like AJ's type."
Oh, not AJ's type, not at all, he'd just as soon kill her as look at her.
"Umm…"
Oh my god, it was him! I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming. "You?" I asked, and it took him a minute to answer me.
"Yeah," he finally admitted.
"Good god!" I looked back at my TV, studying her. Was she his type? Did he hate her now? James and I loved this song because it was so horrible it made us laugh. We'd looked her up online weeks ago, before I met Nick and that little fact hadn't stuck in my head. "Well, um, maybe she has some talent, this is just a bad song…" I tried, and he laughed.
"Its OK, Rache. I hate her. She's a talentless hack, you're right."
I giggled with him. "Oh good… James and I make fun of her every time we see this video. I've seen her in interviews, she is a bitch on wheels."
"Yeah. Good description."
"Was it a serious thing?"
He hesitated again and I could practically see him squirming. "Three years?" His voice rose a bit and I had to stifle another laugh.
"Three YEARS?" I couldn't help yelling. "Nick, you're only 21, isn't that what you told me?"
"It was on and off…" he attempted, sounding completely mortified, and I laughed.
"Alright, sweetie, I'll stop talking about your ex. I'm sure plenty of people have already told you that you were too young for a serious relationship." Three years? He was only 18. He should have been fucking every groupie he could find. It was just unfair that he wasn't sharing his cuteness with everyone.
"Everyone," he growled. "Fucking everyone. Strangers in the street."
"Makes it all the more appealing, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess." We were quiet for a second. Did she chew him up and spit him out? He was so sweet, and she was a total raving bitch from everything I ever saw about her. Maybe it was all an act; maybe she was nice to him. Somehow, I doubted that.
"So James and Darien don't really do anything?"
I let him change the subject. "James is the tech. He can fix anything. Darien…" What did Darien do? "Darien shops."
Nick sounded perplexed. "Darien shops?"
"He shops. We give him money and he buys food so that we're not eating McDonald's every day. He's very good at it, actually, always buys fruit and veggies and things." I could feel Nick just blinking at the phone, and I laughed. "We can't afford room service every night. And you guys probably have stuff at the venue, right? Man, I can only imagine your tour rider!"
"It's probably online somewhere," he said dryly, making me laugh again. "Whatever it is, I didn't have anything to do with it. There's food. I eat it."
"Ah, the lives of the rich and famous. And your very own tour bus! Let me tell you, your tour bus has been the subject of much discussion in my little van. I fantasize about it often."
He chuckled. "Do you?" He asked hopefully.
"Get your mind out of the gutter. I share a van with 3 guys, and we switch off driving. That huge bus all to yourself… it's positively decadent."
"Frank's always on it with me. And Martin, the driver."
"I'm sure you each have your own space, right? Does it have a shower? TV?"
He was totally amused by me, I could hear it in his voice. "Shower, TV, Nintendo, um… stereo that at the moment only plays Sudden Silence." I giggled, way too pleased to hear that. "I'd have shown it to you when we were in Pittsburgh, if I had known you were so interested."
"Backstage at Pittsburgh was enough for me to deal with. Is it always like that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you always have the basketball court and the comfy couches and crap?"
"Yeah…" I could tell he was considering it. "They come with us. The couches and stuff."
"Man!" I whined. "You should see the horrible places I get changed in."
"Like what?"
Hey, he asked. He let me go on for ages about horrible dressing rooms, teasing me about how nice theirs always were. "Fine, tell me how nice your hotel room is now."
I looked around. I never even paid attention any more. Bed. TV. Shower. "Umm… I guess it is pretty nice."
"It's a suite, isn't it?"
"Yeah…" I felt almost guilty, I had all this stuff and she didn't. She wanted it, and I didn't even care about it. Then again, if they tried to put me in something less than a suite, I'd pout. It was easy to get spoiled.
She sighed. "Where are you right now?"
"Lying on the bed. Watching some girl group on TRL… I think its Dream. Wanna know what I'm wearing?" She laughed. Damn, not letting me move the conversation into flirting. "Where are you right now?"
"Pretty much the same place as you. Dream. Bed. Ugly ass bedspread, too much brown. Holiday Inns as a rule have too much brown. I'm wearing shorts and a white tank top, because it's fucking hot out." I couldn't figure out her voice on the last bit. Flirting? Teasing me for being a bad flirt?
At least the description got the thought of her in those leather pants out of my head. I don't suppose she lies around hotel rooms in leather pants, does she? She looked so good in them, though…
I'd never seen her legs. Leather pants, jeans. I bet she had great legs.
"Do you have bad hotel art at the Four Seasons?"
I clued back in to the conversation, I had many long hours alone to indulge my sexual fantasies and I should pay attention now. "Um…" I looked above my head. "Nothing above the bed. I think there was something in the other room."
"Oh, probably an original Matisse or some such. We have a lovely seascape above my bed. With too much brown! I'm telling you, if we ever get famous, I'm going to put it in my rider that I can't have brown in my hotel rooms."
I laughed. "You'll be famous, Rache. I'm sure of it."
I could hear her smile. "Thanks for the support, sweetie." Did she just call me 'sweetie'? "I'm going to become the diva princess Jeremy always accuses me of being, and have a harem of groupies."
"Where do I sign up for that job?"
"You'll be my entire harem?" She flirted. "I don't know that you're up to the challenge, little man."
Damn Frank for calling me that in front of her. "Try me."
"Tempting, dear… very tempting…" she mused. "Just think of the rumors that will start. I can be the next Willa Ford."
"Only you have talent."
She laughed, and I knew the flirting was over. Damn Mandy. I wouldn't date me either, if I were Rachel. She knew as well as I did that the comparisons would happen. If the press didn't do it, I was quite sure that Mandy would. "And a record contract. Did you really get her a record contract? Can you do that?"
I sighed. Damn Mandy. She was going to end up fucking up my entire life. Not just three years, all of it. "I introduced her to people. But she went somewhere else after we broke up. Dunno, I haven't been paying attention."
"Good plan. It sucks dating famous people, you can't avoid them like mere mortals."
Who had Rachel been with? "I wouldn't say that Willa Ford is a household name."
"Thank god," she laughed. "Oooh, Blink's at number three, higher than her."
I glanced over at the TV. I liked this song. "This is a cool video." It was just tape of them running around spending the video budget on stupid stuff. Man, it cost a fortune to make a video. It was better than their other videos, which basically made fun of us.
"It is. I like Blink 182, we've done some gigs together. They're a little too fascinated by porn stars, but other than that, they're decent guys."
"Porn stars?"
"That chick in their last video. Or the last two videos. Whatever. She's some porn queen. Do you mean to tell me that you don't spend your per diem every day on the dirty movies in your room?"
I was not answering that question. I cast about for a change of subject, but she shrieked.
"Oh, too weird! You're on my TV!"
"Dang it!" He said. Dang it? Did he just say that? "We're number two. I hate being number two!"
Man, he was cute in this video. "Aw, poor thing, N Sync is higher than you today."
"Crap song. Trying too hard."
"Maybe some people aren't trying hard enough," I teased, giggling at the TV. "Ah, Kevin. Even with cornrows, he's perfect. Hey, are you watching?"
"Yes," he grumbled, obviously still annoyed that they were only number two.
It was a long shot of them driving through the desert in convertibles. "Kevin's hat… right here! It flies off. What happened to Kevin's hat?" I asked. James and I had just noticed it last night.
He chuckled. He had to stop that, I loved that chuckle. "Have you watched this a few times, Rache?"
"Hey, they actually show videos at 3am. James and I have spent many an hour watching bad videos." I could hear him draw breath to protest and I went on. "Not that this is a bad video, of course, darling."
"I thought you didn't know who we were," he teased.
Busted. "Well, until recently I didn't pay as much attention." I looked back at the screen. "Nick, has anyone ever told you that you're dancing to a different song here? What is with the twirling?" Recently I'd been paying a lot of attention, looking at websites and channel surfing to see their videos.
It was a ballad, but he was twirling around and dancing, completely unlike the others. He was totally adorable. "Listen to the drums," he whined. "It's a good drum line!"
I turned up the volume, which was at practically nothing, and sure enough, he was dancing to the drum line. "Alright, I'll give you that. Do you play? Did you tell me that you play the drums?" Was I making this up?
"Yes, I play the drums. And guitar."
"Ah, yes. Been meaning to talk to you about the guitar," I remembered.
"What?" he asked, cautiously.
"You play the guitar very badly, Nick," I informed him. He played the guitar for about 20 seconds on one of their dance songs during the show, and he had me in hysterics.
"I do not!" He protested.
"Too much flailing," I dismissed. "You just like to take the darn thing off and throw it at that poor roadie, don't you?" It was actually a great moment, he ripped the guitar off and sent it flying across the stage.
"Well… but I do not suck!"
"You suck! The guitar toss is a dead giveaway. If anyone ever did that to my guitar, I'd kill them. If you can't handle that thing, you should give it to me. What is it, anyway?" I knew it was better than mine, but I was too busy laughing to get a good look at it.
"It's not mine personally, it's part of the show."
"Would you do that to yours?"
"Sure," he defended, then stopped. "OK, no."
"See?"
"Who are you talking to?" I jumped as James came into my room, dripping wet from the pool. I pointed at the TV and he widened his eyes at me.
"You're fucking joking! JC fucking Chasez?" In our boyband research, James had discovered the hot one from N Sync.
I laughed, looking over at the screen again. "Damn, that boy is fine."
She likes JC fucking Chasez? Goddamn it.
"Are you bagging all the boy bands now, Rache?" Who was that? Had to be one of the band. James the boyfriend? Maybe not, if she's staying with some guy in Philadelphia… maybe its an open relationship. How open?
"No, I'm talking to Nick of the second best boy band in the world today."
"Hey!" I whined. N fucking Sync, I was so tired of them.
She squealed. "Damn that JC. Totally hot. It's the hair. James! Do not sit on the bed, you are all wet!"
James. Which one was James? The bassist, right? So the tall blond one. Why was he wet? Shower? Were they sharing a room? Did they share the bed?
"Why are you talking to Nick?" He asked. Jealous or just curious?
"Ooh!" She was all excited, I could only hope she'd forgotten about JC fucking Chasez. "One of their fans gave him a copy of us doing 'Get Another Boyfriend'!"
"Again, you're fucking joking! How did that happen?"
"They're like the KGB," I told her. "I stopped asking questions a long time ago."
That made her laugh. "He says not to question why."
"We don't even have a copy of that," James said.
I called her for a reason, didn't I?
"Can you get me a copy?" She asked me.
"Sure. When can I see you?" She was quiet for a moment. Dang it. Am I being pushy?
"Dunno. Where are you going next?"
Shit. Maybe I should have prepared better. Where were we next? "Um…" I had the schedule around here somewhere. "Albany?"
"Hours from Philly. Then we do Delaware, Jersey and next week we're in New York for a few days." Of course, she could recite her schedule from memory.
Found it! I flipped through the book, June, June, June- it was almost July already. "Albany, then Philly for a few nights, then Boston. Wait, Monday we're on the Today show." Why was there no New York hotel?
"In New York?"
"Yeah."
"We're in New York on Monday… where are you staying?"
I'm gonna see her again!
"Dunno. I might be missing that page."
There was suddenly much noise from her end. "Darien's back with dinner, hooray! They've all invaded my room, can I call you back?"
I'd given her half my phone number before I remembered I didn't give my phone number to people I barely knew.
Hell, I could always get a new number, it was a risk I was willing to take. "Rache?"
"Yeah?"
"Next Monday. July 2nd."
I could hear her smile at me. "Yeah. We'll figure something out. I'll call you. You call me. Whatever."
She hung up, and I could only grin at the phone. I was going to get to see her again. I had a perfectly good reason to call her again. If I ever saw the fans that gave AJ that CD again, I'd kiss them.
Chapter Two:
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