I nod.
“I’m sorry.”
I nod. I’ve been reduced to a heavy-breathing, choked-up bobblehead. They should sell me at the merch tables outside.I’m sure that would be a huge hit.“I broke my arm in two places. A few ribs, my collarbone.” I pull down the collar of my shirt, showing her the tiny raised scar, and she runs her finger over it.
Vee shakes her head. “You don’t have to tell me about it.”
“I do, actually.” And it’s true, because I know she needs to hear this just as much as I need to be able to say it. If nothing else, she needs to know that my leaving had nothing to do with her. Or how much I loved her. It had everything to do with me. She nods, and I continue. “I had first-degree burns over most of my body. Like a really horrible sunburn.”
“It was Sienna with you?”
She’s obviously read articles, and I wonder which ones.Which pictures has she seen?I nod. “My parents were out of town for the weekend and Sienna stayed over.” I’m not sure if now is the time to elaborate on my relationship with Sienna, but I don’t. “She was in worse shape than I was.” I shake my head, remembering how much pain she had been in. “She broke most of theright side of her body; shattered her hip, broke her leg in a couple of places, fractured her wrist. She was in a wheelchair for months, couldn’t walk for months after.”
Vee glances up at me, her eyes full of questions I know I have to answer. “This was six months before you came to Riverton,” she says. It isn’t a question. “Eight months before we met.”
I nod and twist the leather band around my wrist. “I finished the semester at St. John’s, and when I turned eighteen, I left. I couldn’t be there anymore.” She nods like she understands, but I don’t know how she could. “I was different afterward. And everyone had expectations… of how I should feel… how I should act.”
“And your sister?” The question catches me off guard.
“We’re not close, but she’s fine. She was at college when it happened.”
She nods again, but never asks the questions I’m waiting for. The questions everyone asked me after it happened:Why did you say the house was empty? Did you know your parents were in the house? Were you fighting with them? Were you angry? How could you not know?
“And you left because you didn’t want to tell me this?” Her features are tight, and I can tell she’s trying not to cry. “Why?”
I jerk my head toward Jenn and Kaley, who are headed our way. “Not here.” I grab Vee’s hand and pull her up. I lead us to one of the small dressing rooms and lock the door behind us. Vee’s breath catches in her throat as she takes another step backward into the dim space. I grab her face gently in my hands, feeling the warm wetness of her cheeks against my palms.
“You were never the reason I left.” I feel like the words have been caught in my throat since the day I left Riverton. They feel rough coming out. “I just couldn’t be what you needed. I was messed up, Vee. Iammessed up.” I brush tears away with my thumbs. “When stuff happened with Nonni, I didn’t know whatto do. All I could think about was what happened with my parents. All I knew was worst-case scenario. How everyone dies.” She sucks in a choked breath and I regret saying it; bringing up her own hurt. “And I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t deserve to be happy.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I spent six months with everyone looking at me like a broken, second-rate version of what I used to be. That’s the whole reason I moved to Riverton. I didn’t want anyone looking at me like that anymore. Especially not you.”
She nods, but she doesn’t look at me. Her eyes look past me, over my shoulder, and she’s rigid, stone in my hands.
“I love you, Vee. Then”—I kiss her forehead, and my lips are still brushing against her skin when I speak—“… now. That’s the one thing I never hid from you. That’s the truest thing about me.”
A statue come alive, Vee is suddenly in motion. Her hands on my chest, lips on my mouth. Warm hands run up my neck, and mine twist in her hair. Slowly, I push her back against the counter, pinning her in place with my hips. Our hands are grabbing, our limbs tangling, our mouths searching. And we fit. It feels like we were out of gear, stuck in neutral, and now we’re together and we’ve clicked into first. We’re taking off. Racing toward something, but I’m not sure if it’s the starting line or the finish. Maybe what we had before was a false start.
Finally, breathless—after seconds or minutes, or maybe hours—she pulls away from me. I feel the loss immediately—the cold space that used to be filled with her warmth.
VIRGINIA
When I finally break free from the centripetal force of Cam’s body, the space around us feels charged. I have to pull my handout of his, because I can’t think when we’re touching. I need to prepare him for what’s going to happen. I tell him about Jenn, about the articles and the interview with Sienna. How they’ll run a special next week. He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me, motionless; breathless, I think. Hopeless. “I didn’t want anyone looking at me like that anymore.” Cam’s words ring in my head and I know, more than ever, that I have to do something. Even if it doesn’t work, if I’m a complete failure, I have to try.
“Cam, listen to me.” I dip my head into the path of his eyes, which are fixed on the floor. “I’ve got a plan, and I’m going to do everything I can to stop this, but I need you to go along with this. Just for now. I need you to trust me.”
He nods and pulls me against his chest. We stand there until Logan knocks on the door, announcing the start of their rehearsal time. “We learned a new song while you were gone,” Cam whispers into my hair. “It’s a surprise. I can’t wait for you to hear it.” He kisses my head. “But for now, can you let us practice it? Maybe hang out in the bus for a while?” His voice is sweet and pleading.
I nod, and head for the exit. I have things to do, anyway. There’s already a checklist forming in my mind. I need to talk to a few friends I’ve made on the crew. And I need to convince Tad to help me if I’m going to pull this off. I only have two days to make this happen.
***
I’ve convinced Jenn to let me set up an encore concert in the park across from the venue. The guys are thrilled with the idea, and thanks to a fame-hungry mayor, I managed to get the last-minute permit and security needed to put on a free public concert after we tape the show tonight. Your Future X will be playing his daughter’s high school graduation party next spring,but it’s worth it. Most of the next two days is spent on my computer and my phone, and when I have free time I sneak away to practice. Only Tad ever bothers me.
“You’re really going to make this happen?” Tad pokes his head—for once camera-free—into the small room I’ve found on the second floor of the theater where we’ll be performing tomorrow.
I nod. Letting them lay Cam’s past out for the country like a buffet of pain isn’t an option. “You’ll take care of Jenn?”
