Don't Trash the Heartthrob (Rockford High Book 5)

by Victorine E. Lieske

  Chapter 11

  Stephanie finally caved and went to see the latest 80’s movie remake by herself. Jade was too busy, and Amanda was out with Cole again, which was fine. It was a Saturday night. Of course, she’s going to be with her boyfriend.

  If Stephanie didn’t talk about the movie on her Vlog, people would start to think she wasn’t on top of things. And yes, it was as bad as she had expected it to be. Sub-par acting and even worse CGI. She sat in front of her computer, thinking about what she was going to say on her Vlog.

  There was no choice. She had to tell the truth. But Brandon’s words kept running through her head, how she was always ragging on movies. Tearing them apart. Was there anything about it she liked?

  She took in a deep breath, thinking harder. Maybe there were a few jokes that made her laugh. She could talk about that. And the new sub-plot wasn’t bad. It actually helped make more sense of the original movie.

  She pulled out a notebook and started scribbling down some notes. She was still going to be honest about the poor acting, and the terrible graphics, but she did think she could say a few positive things as well. Maybe that’s what her show needed. Some balance.

  As she wrote, her phone alerted her to a text. She glanced at the screen. It was from Chris. She picked up her phone and read the whole message.

  Hey, I hope it’s not too late to text. You were up late last night, so I figured you’re a night owl like me. Anyway, just thought I’d say thanks again for meeting me at The Spotted Cow. I enjoyed talking with you.

  Stephanie glanced at the clock. It was after midnight. She chuckled and texted him back.

  What are you doing up so late?

  Watching a show on Netflix. Is that stupid?

  No. I binge watch all the time.

  Oh, man. I binged on everything I could, but now I’m all caught up. I can’t wait for the next episode.

  Stephanie leaned back in her chair. Sounds like something I need to check out. What’s the name of it?

  The dots appeared, showing he was answering her. I can’t tell you. It’s embarrassing.

  She made a face. Embarrassing? Why?

  Because it might be romantic.

  Stephanie laughed out loud. Oh, please. Men like romances.

  What men like romances? Name one.

  I can’t name one. I just think men like them. Don’t they?

  No. Men like action and adventure. Thrillers. Movies about lumberjacks.

  She scoffed. Lumberjacks? You don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t even think of one movie about a lumberjack.

  Sorry. Just thinking of manly things. Change that to explosions, and I’m good.

  Amanda ran into the bedroom, her hair flying as she screeched to a halt by Stephanie’s desk. “Brandon was in a car accident. It’s all over Twitter.”

  “What?” The blood drained from Stephanie’s face as she quickly swiped to open her Twitter feed.

  Amanda stood there as she caught her breath. “He and Tony Perry were in the car. I don’t know who was driving, but both were drunk.”

  Oh, no. This can’t be happening. He promised. He wasn’t going to drink tonight. Her heart jumped into her throat and she felt tears spring to her eyes. “Are they okay?”

  “I don’t know. I came to tell you as soon as I saw the story starting to explode all over the place.”

  Stephanie clicked a link to a news article. She wasn’t interested in rumors. As she skimmed the article, her breath caught. “Oh, no.”

  “What? Is he dead? Tell me he didn’t die.” Amanda clasped her hands under her chin, anxiety wrinkling her brow.

  “I don’t know yet. It hasn’t said.”

  “Then what? Why did you say ‘oh, no’?”

  “They were involved in a police chase.” This was bad. The article did say there were drugs or alcohol involved. They were going over 200 mph. Stephanie blinked, trying to get to the part where it said if he was dead. Surely he didn’t walk away from an accident like that. Her heart pounded as she skimmed.

  “Wow.” Amanda breathed out. “I didn’t think Brandon was that kind of a guy.”

  “Wait. It says here Tony was driving.”

  “Still. They were both drunk.”

  “I don’t know if they definitively know that yet. Early reports of things often have facts wrong.” At least, she hoped he hadn’t been drinking. He promised her. Stephanie got to the end of the article, her heart thumping, relief flooding through her. “They both were taken to the hospital—alive.”

  “Oh, thank heavens.” Amanda crossed the room and sank down onto her bed. “Call him.”

  Was Amanda insane? “What? No way. Don’t you think he’s a little busy right now?”

  “Then text him. Just to ask if he’s okay. He could be really hurt.”

  “I know! That’s why I don’t want to message him. What if he’s on his deathbed?”

  Amanda sent her a glare. “What if he’s on his deathbed and you don’t message him? And he dies, thinking you didn’t care?”

  Well, that was stupid. But maybe he would like to know his accident is in the news. Stephanie grunted but called up Brandon’s texts. “Fine. I’ll send him a message.”

  Before she could open the text dialogue box, a noise sounded.

  Amanda sat up. “Is that from Brandon? Is he okay?”

  Stephanie shook her head. “No. It’s from Chris.”

  You still there?

  She answered him back. Sorry. A friend was in a car accident. Can we chat later?

  Oh, no. I’m sorry. Of course, we can chat later. I hope your friend is okay.

  Me, too. Thanks.

  Amanda waved her hands. “Did you text Brandon yet?”

  “Geesh, can you chill? I’m doing that right now.” Stephanie huffed and sent a message to Brandon.

  Just heard you were in a car accident. I hope you’re okay. Text me when you can.

  Stephanie sat, staring at the phone as the seconds ticked by. Amanda fidgeted. They waited a full five minutes before Amanda spoke. “Nothing?”

  “No.”

  They stayed up another hour while more reports came in about the accident. How severe it was. How no one knew the condition of Tony or Brandon. Dread pooled in her stomach as the minutes ticked on.

  Still, no text came.

  Chapter 12

  A steady beeping sound interrupted Brandon’s dreams, making his head hurt. What was that noise? Someone should shut it off. And then he heard his mother’s voice, hushed and worried.

  That’s when the accident came into his memory. Tony. And his Ferrari.

  And the police.

  Oh, boy. He was in so much trouble.

  He tried to move, but pain traveled through his head and down his arm. He groaned, and a flurry of activity happened around him. He worked hard to open his eyes against the bright light. Shapes took form in front of him. He saw his mother standing in front of him, her face drained of color. And then he noticed his Aunt Monica by the wall. And another person, but he didn’t know who it was. He came closer.

  Recognition hit him like a frying pan to the face. It was his father.

  Oh, no. This was way worse than he thought, if his father was here. His gaze traveled back to his mother, who was hovering. “Sweetie? Are you awake?”

  “Yeah,” he said, although it came out more like a croak.

  “Are you in pain?”

  He tried to reach up to his head where it hurt the worst, but his hand had an IV line and the cord restricted him. “My head…”

  “You got hit pretty hard. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  Panic shot through him. Lucky to be alive? What about Tony? Was he…? Brandon tried to sit up, but he couldn’t. “Tony. Where is he? Is he okay?”

  His mother frowned. “He’s in surgery.”

  Surgery? What had happened to him? Fear crept up his neck and he had a hard time swallowing. “What for? Is he going to be okay?”

  His mother blinked, like s
he was going to cry. Crud, this was bad. She touched his hand lightly. “They don’t know yet.”

  His father took a step toward him and he recoiled. He didn’t want to see him. His father wasn’t worth anything to him. He hated the scum.

  “Brandon? Can I ask you a few questions?” his father asked.

  Brandon gritted his teeth. It made him so angry that it took him getting into a major car accident for his father to show up. Not one phone call in all these years, and he shows up now? After he almost gets killed? What does that say about how important Brandon was in his life? “No. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Sweetie, you’d better answer your father’s questions. He’s trying to help.”

  “I don’t need his help.” Brandon shoved down the emotions swelling in him. He wasn’t going to cry. Not now. And not over the worthless man who left him and his mother. He wasn’t worth crying over.

  “You might be in some legal trouble.” His father ran a hand over his balding head.

  Legal trouble? Is that a nice way of saying he might get arrested? Brandon glared at his father, the two-bit attorney working in the sticks. What could he do for him that his team of lawyers couldn’t?

  “Then have them arrest me. I don’t care.”

  His mother sucked in a breath and turned to bury her head in his father’s shoulder. His father put his arms around his mother. Brandon almost leapt out of bed to rip them apart. What was she doing? Why was she turning to that scum for support?

  “The doctor says you have ecstasy in your bloodstream,” his father said. “Do you remember taking that?”

  Brandon groaned. He didn’t want to talk to his father. And he hated the way his mother was looking at Brandon with those wide eyes, like he let her down. Again. But he knew he had to answer at some point. “I didn’t know what it was,” he finally said.

  “Who gave you the drugs?”

  Well, he wasn’t about to say that. If he told the truth, Tony would get in even more trouble. But he wasn’t sure how much trouble he’d get in if he lied about it. He pressed his lips together, trying to think of what to say, but it was difficult. His head felt fuzzy. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and go back to sleep.

  His Aunt Monica folded her arms across her chest. “They found ecstasy in Tony’s pocket.”

  His father glared at his aunt. “You can’t lead the witness.”

  “This isn’t a court,” Aunt Monica said, her cheeks flushing. “And I’m not leading the witness. I’m telling him Tony is already in trouble for it. It won’t hurt him more to tell the truth.”

  Why was everyone fighting? It was his father’s fault. If he would just leave…Brandon clenched his hands into fists and pain shot up his arm. “Ouch.” He flinched.

  “Do you need more pain meds?” his mother asked, pulling away from his father. “When can he have more?”

  His aunt checked something written on a whiteboard on the wall. “He can’t have any more meds until five.”

  “Five? O’clock? In the morning? How long have I been in here?” Brandon thought it was around midnight.

  “It’s three in the afternoon,” his mother said. “You’ve been on pretty heavy pain medicine. You were rushed into surgery when you first got here. Your arm…” She put her hand over her mouth and blinked.

  His arm? What about it? He looked down at the large bandage covering it from his shoulder to his elbow. Panic shot through him as he tried to lift it. It wouldn’t move. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Calm down,” his mother said. “You’re getting agitated.”

  “I’m agitated because no one will answer me.”

  His aunt approached him. “Some of your muscles were severed in the accident. The doctor said they were able to repair most of the damage, but you should keep it immobile for now until it heals. You should regain full mobility with physical therapy. You’re lucky. Another few inches and you’d be an amputee.”

  Amputee? Brandon felt like he was going to faint. “What?” he said, but the word barely came out. His head spun as he tried to sit up.

  “Lay down, Brandon,” his mother said. “You’re okay. Just be calm. Maybe it’s time to rest.”

  A noise sounded from across the room and Brandon’s gaze landed on his phone, sitting on top of his clothes that were folded and lying on a table. “My phone,” he said, reaching out with his good arm.

  His mother frowned, but she walked to the table and picked it up. After she handed it to him, she said, “You can have this for a moment. Then I’m turning it off. You need your sleep.”

  Brandon nodded, but only because he felt like he was going to drift off any second anyway. He skimmed through his texts until he found the ones he wanted. From Vlogger girl. She’d sent him several, last night and today. His accident was all over the news. No surprise there.

  He sent her a quick reply.

  I’m okay. In the hospital. Very tired. I’ll call you later.

  He handed his phone back to his mother and closed his eyes. He listened to all of them talking as if he wasn’t in the room anymore.

  His mother let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what to do with him. He’s out of control.”

  “How long has he been on drugs? Do you think he needs a rehab program?” his father asked.

  His mother choked back a sob. “I don’t know.”

  “He could come live with me.” That voice was higher-pitched. Must be Aunt Monica. “Until he recovers…from everything.”

  The rest of the voices faded away as the heavy fog pressed down on him. But something in the back of his mind niggled at him. Something about what his aunt had said. He didn’t want to leave L.A., but there was something about living with his aunt that intrigued him. He couldn’t think straight. What was it?

  And then it hit him. Aunt Monica lived in Rockford, Wisconsin.

  That’s where Vlogger girl lived.

  Chapter 13

  Stephanie let out a breath as she sat down on the plastic chair at her usual table in the cafeteria. Jade set her tray down and plopped down beside her. “That bad, huh?”

  Stephanie put her head down on her arms, leaning on the table, and moaned. “This is the worst day ever.”

  “No word from Brandon?”

  “No. Not since yesterday. And I had a huge test in physics that I’m sure I bombed because I couldn’t concentrate last night to study. And tomorrow I have a paper due in English, and I haven’t even started.” She closed her eyes and tried to block out the light with her arms.

  Jade shoved her shoulder. “Snap out of it. I haven’t seen you this depressed since you bombed that audition last year.”

  Stephanie sat up. The musical. She’d forgotten. “Oh, yeah. I still haven’t memorized all my lines for Little Shop of Horrors. Rehearsals start next week.”

  Jade rolled her eyes and kicked her in the shin. It wasn’t very hard, but pain still shot up her leg.

  “Ouch. What did you do that for?”

  “Because. You’re whining. You have a hot, famous boyfriend, you got the lead part in the play, and your Vlog has blown up with followers. Your life is pretty good right now.”

  Stephanie wrinkled her nose. Jade was delusional. “Boyfriend? I hate to break it to you, but Brandon’s not my boyfriend. We don’t even really know each other. He lives in California. I’ll probably never meet him in person.”

  Jade picked up an apple slice and took a bite. “You have a freakin’ movie star talking to you on the phone. He obviously likes you. Wake up.”

  “I don’t even know if he’s still alive,” Stephanie muttered. She didn’t want to sound all doom and gloom, but she was really worried about him.

  “He’s not dead. It would be all over the news if he was.” Jade’s eyes widened as if she hadn’t realized how terrible that would sound until the words were out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yeah, you did. Is it bad that I’ve been thinking that all day, as I check Twitter between classes?”
It was the only thing she could do. She didn’t want to send a constant barrage of texts to him. He was in the hospital. He said he’d call her later. She just needed to wait for that.

  Marissa, one of the other girls from the drama club, walked up to their table. “Hey, Steph.” She gave a little wave.

  “Hey, Marissa.”

  Stephanie thought maybe Marissa was there just to say hi, but when she didn’t walk away, Stephanie said, “What’s up?”

  “Well, you know how the drama club has a booth for the harvest festival this weekend, right? We’re trying to earn enough money for our annual trip. Miss Morgan said we need to earn more this year than last year, because Washington, D.C. is more expensive.”

  Marissa continued to talk about the money the club needed, and why they needed it. Stephanie listened politely, not really understanding. She was part of the drama club. She knew all this. “Okay.”

  “So, we were hoping we could count on your support.”

  “I can give a couple of dollars…” Stephanie didn’t have that much money, but she could help a little.

  Marissa swallowed. “No, I mean, we’re hoping you could help at the booth.”

  “Oh. Sure.” Why was Marissa acting so weird? “What are we doing? Selling food? Do you need me to bake?”

  “No. It’s a kissing booth.”

  Stephanie choked back a laugh. “A what?”

  Marissa shifted her weight. “A kissing booth.” She rushed on. “I know this isn’t really your thing, but we think it would raise quite a bit of money, and you’re kind of a celebrity now with your Vlog. We think you’d be able to help us.”

  Jade sat there, listening to the entire exchange, a smirk growing on her face. Stephanie was so stunned, she was speechless. They wanted her to stand at a booth and kiss guys? For money? What kind of a crazy idea was that?