My Night with a Rockstar

by Mankin, Michelle

  “He’s the best. I know I should, but . . .”

  “But you don’t want to hurt him.” Knowing her as well as I did, it wasn’t hard to guess the reason for her reluctance.

  “Yeah. He’s been hurt enough.”

  “By your mom, you mean?”

  “Uh-huh.” Her head bob brushed her silky hair over my skin.

  “You’ve been hurt too.” I broached this subject carefully. It was a hurt as deep as my father’s rejection of me.

  “Maybe. But not like him. It broke something inside him when she left us. He’s not the same, but he tries to be. He’s wonderful and kind like before, but it’s obvious, you know, that he’s trying.”

  “You and your dad both loved your mom, and you share similar pain about her being gone.” Her brother, Cork, was too young to remember his mother. “Sharing your feelings, talking about them, it might help both of you.”

  “It might not. It might make him feel bad. It might make me feel worse.”

  “But what if it helps? There’s value in sharing.”

  I searched her eyes, noting the softening within them as my words sank in. It certainly helped me to share with her.

  “When you share, you don’t feel so alone.” Like I did, except with her. “I bet he feels lonely too. Sharing, you might make him feel more comfortable to open up to you. Then you can help each other let go of the bad feelings and move on together with only the good.”

  “You might be right. I’ll do it.” She lifted her chin. “I’ll try to talk to him, I mean.”

  “Good. Proud of you, Lilly. You’re so brave.”

  I took her hand, swinging our arms together, hoping to lighten the heavy mood. Not just with my words, but also with my actions. The wisdom she’d shared with me all those years ago, I’d never forgotten.

  She glanced down at our joined hands, then looked up at me, her eyes flecked with those fiery sparks again. “You haven’t held my hand since we were little.”

  At thirteen, she was still little to me, but I was wise enough not to point that out. Sometimes wisdom was speaking, and sometimes it was knowing when not to speak.

  “Holding hands. Sharing secrets. Music. Surfing.” I squeezed her fingers. “We’ve had a lot of good times together over the years, haven’t we?”

  “Yes.” She gave me a sharp look. “But why did you say it like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like it was good, but it’s over.”

  It was going to be over soon. She was going to have a boyfriend that couldn’t be me, and I would be leaving.

  I paused at the entrance to the long, steep flight of concrete stairs that led down to the water. “You first.” I released her hand and gestured.

  “Okay.” She headed down in front of me, and I followed close behind her, holding our boards above the metal handrail.

  At the bottom, she took her backpack from me, tiptoed over the smooth rocks, and disappeared inside a small, shallow cave that made a perfect dressing room for her to change into her wet suit.

  Wearing boxers under my shorts that were like swim trunks, I just stripped out in the open. Within moments, I had my wet suit on. I shifted my weight impatiently from one foot to the other until she finally reappeared.

  “Ready?” I gave her a sweeping glance, not failing to note that she’d French-braided her long hair, or the way her wet suit clung to her slender body, accentuating her developing curves.

  “Yeah.” She stretched out her arms.

  Knowing what she wanted, I relinquished her board, and we tiptoed along the rocks together toward the ocean. I jumped into the waist-deep water first. She lowered herself into a seated position and dipped her body into the sea. Once we were both in the water, we paddled out on our boards side by side. When we reached the spot where the waves developed, we sat up, straddling our boards and waiting to get a feel for the set pattern.

  “Do you ever think about telling your dad how you feel about the way he treats you?” she asked.

  “I tell him all the fucking time.” I said it harshly, but deep down I knew I wasn’t being completely truthful.

  I used to tell my dad all the time, meaning I popped off to rebel against his authoritative crap. But now I didn’t bother. Not anymore. I’d reached the end of what I could take from him.

  My father would never change, and I refused to change who I was for him.

  Lotus

  Nine years ago

  My wet braid dripped a river of cold water down my spine as I walked beside Storm. I had a big wet splotch on my T-shirt between my shoulder blades, and it was uncomfortable. But it wasn’t the only reason I was on edge.

  I was edgy because Storm was. Something was off with him today. I could see the tension in the tightness of his handsome features, and sense it radiating from his stiff frame.

  Gnawing my bottom lip, I glanced over at him again. He’d gone silent since we were surfing and I’d brought up the subject of his dad.

  “Stop looking at me like that.” Giving me a glance, he bumped my shoulder.

  “Like how?”

  “Like you’re afraid I’ll come unhinged if you say the wrong thing to me.” He turned his head, and my breath caught when I saw how stark his expression was. “That’s how other people look at me. That’s how I feel about striking up a conversation, any conversation with my old man. But that’s not how I want you to feel when you’re with me, Lilly. Not ever.”

  “I’m sorry I put you on the spot, asking about him earlier.”

  “He’s never far from my mind. He’s not going away, or at least I can’t escape him if I stay here.” Storm scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s why I have to leave.”

  “Leave OB?” I asked softly, my heart sinking to dark depths. I didn’t like to think about anyone leaving, least of all Storm.

  “Yes,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “I have to. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re talking about when you get older. Right?” We still had years to enjoy being friends, and for things to potentially change between us.

  “No, not when I get older. Now. I applied for a job at the shipyard last week. They want me to start as soon as I turn sixteen.”

  “But what about school?” My mouth parting, I gulped for air. My chest was so tight, I felt like I was breathing through a clogged snorkel.

  “I’ve never been interested in school the way you are. I just want to play my music. I can work during the day. Try for gigs at night.”

  My head spun. “You’ve given this some thought.”

  “I’ve given it more than thought,” he said firmly. “It’s decided.”

  “You decided something this big, separate from me?” I asked, my voice tinny with panic. My stomach hurt. Fear made me feel small and insignificant, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since Storm had become my friend.

  “I’m telling you now. First, before I tell anyone else. I haven’t even told my brothers.”

  “Oh.” My eyes filled with tears.

  “Don’t cry,” he said, stopping and turning toward me in front of the gate to his backyard. “I can’t bear it if you cry.”

  “Okay.”

  I sucked the fear and hurt back inside. But doing so made my chest burn like I had an overinflated balloon wrapped in barbed wire trapped inside of it.

  “Whatever you feel like you have to do, I support you.” I straightened my shoulders and looked him square in the eyes. “I just wish you would have told me sooner what you were thinking.”

  He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Nothing is going to happen right away. I just want you to be prepared.”

  He opened the gate, propping it open with his body for me to step through. I entered the backyard. The door slammed behind him as he followed me. Side by side, we walked around the pool on the way to the outdoor shower. Resting our boards against the side of the garage, he flipped on the water. We didn’t talk, just exchanged weighted glances.

  Did he feel as sad as I did? Lik
e I had to savor each remaining moment together, knowing it might be our last?

  “I’m scared,” I whispered as my wet hair dripped in my eyes like tears after I showered. “About you leaving.” It seemed like a dark cloud suddenly hung over us.

  “Storm Peter Hardy!”

  His father’s shout was a thunderclap that made both of us jump. With his black hair and sharply etched features, Graham Hardy looked nothing at all like Storm, who favored his mother.

  My eyes wide, I watched Storm’s father step through the sliding glass door from the house out into the backyard. His strides stiff, he marched around the pool deck straight toward us.

  “What the hell is this?” he asked, waving an official-looking piece of paper in Storm’s face.

  “I’m not sure what it is, sir,” Storm said, but given his sudden stillness, something told me he did.

  “It’s a truancy notice. From your school.” Graham shoved the paper at his son’s chest.

  “So it is,” Storm said, wobbling from the force of the push.

  “You been screwing your little friend when you should’ve been in school.” Graham’s dark gaze flicked to me, his accusation making me feel ill.

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Of course that’s not true!” Storm shouted, his face turning red. “Lotus is only thirteen! Jeez, old man, get a grip.”

  “That’s old enough to get into trouble.”

  “She’s my friend.” Storm clenched his hands into fists. “And just a kid, a good one.”

  “What makes you think you’re qualified to make a determination about anyone’s character?” Graham’s hands curled into tight fists like his son’s.

  “You only have to talk to Lotus to know the type of person she is.” Storm’s brown eyes flashed with fire. “But then talking’s not your problem. Listening to anyone else speak but yourself is.”

  “That’s quite enough.” Graham’s raven brows drew together. “I’ve had quite enough of your insolence. You’ll go with me to school tomorrow. I’ll have to take a day off from work because of you, but you will fix this.”

  Storm lifted his chin. “Nothing to fix.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Graham’s fingers flexed so tightly, the veins stood out on the back of his hands. “Of course there is.”

  I was scared, but shifted closer to Storm as his father leaned in.

  “I have a job,” Storm said firmly, holding his ground and widening his stance. “I start next week. I’m not doing school anymore.”

  His mom stepped out through the sliding glass door. Taking in the scene with brown eyes like Storm’s, she moved quickly toward us, holding a dishtowel.

  “You absolutely will go to school. It’s not up for debate.” Graham no longer shouted, but somehow his quieter tone was more intimidating. “You will graduate, son. Afterward, if you want to torpedo your life, that will be on you. Your choice, not mine.”

  Storm’s brow furrowed. “It’s my choice now.”

  “Not while you live in my house. In my house, you obey my rules.” Graham drew himself up to his full height. Even though Storm had grown a lot over the past year, his father was still taller. “Go to your room. I’m going to take Lotus home. I need to talk to her father. Then I’ll talk to you.”

  “I’ll go to my room.” Storm tipped his head back to maintain his father’s gaze. “But only to pack my things. I was planning to move out next week, but I might as well do it right now.”

  “You put him up to this?” Graham shifted his narrowed gaze to me.

  “No, sir.” Wide-eyed and trembling, I shook my head.

  “You pregnant?” he asked.

  “What? No.” My cheeks flaming, I stared at my feet.

  “Thank God for that,” Graham said. “But I don’t want you coming around anymore. It’s not right, a fifteen-year-old boy being friends with a thirteen-year-old girl.”

  “Graham, no,” his mother said. “They’re just friends. There’s nothing inappropriate going on. Let’s calm down, go inside, sit down, and talk this through.”

  “No, Ivy. This is my house,” Graham said evenly. “I make the decisions. Storm knows that. You should know that.”

  “We all know how it is, old man.” Storm’s eyes flared. “You tell us often enough.”

  “Then you know you’re going back to school.” Graham’s jaw firmed. “If you don’t agree, you can turn back around and walk out the gate you just came through.”

  Saber and Shield had appeared. Silent and unmoving, Storm’s brothers stood side by side, just inside the sliding glass door. Though Graham had named his sons after active military operations, Storm’s brothers were merely passive bystanders.

  “I guess I’m leaving then.” Storm took my arm. His grip wasn’t as gentle as usual, but I didn’t let on. I knew he didn’t mean to hurt or scare me.

  “Storm,” Ivy said, sounding and looking panicked. “Don’t go. Not like this. Please.”

  “Gone, Mom,” Storm bit out through his clenched teeth. “I’m gone. I can’t stay here with him any longer.” He jerked his chin at his father. “I’ll call you when I’m settled.”

  “Ivy, I forbid you to talk to him again,” Graham said to her, then turned to Storm. “If you walk away right now, you don’t exist. You’re dead to me. Dead to everyone in this family. Do you understand me?”

  “I hear you,” Storm said, his voice deep. “I’ve always heard you. I’m leaving. I know that’s what you’ve always wanted.”

  His fingers digging into my skin, Storm escorted me from the backyard. Once the gate closed behind us, he released me and let out a shaky exhale.

  “Are you okay?” I asked as I turned to him.

  Needing to remove the empty space between us, wishing I could remove the damage his father had done, I placed my hand on his chest. With the top half of his wet suit turned down at the waist, his chest was bare. His skin was smooth and hot beneath my palm where his heart thumped wildly.

  “No, I’m not okay.”

  Although Storm’s brown eyes were bright, his sun-bronzed skin was ashen except for flags of red color high on his cheeks. Covering my hand with his, he removed it from his chest and squeezed it once before letting it go.

  “And I’m probably not going to be okay for a while.” He exhaled again, longer this time. “But first things first. I need to get you safely home.”

  He pointed with his chin and started walking in the direction of my apartment. I moved along with him. What else could I do?

  “Your dad will change his mind when he’s not so angry anymore,” I said, giving him a furtive glance and noting his steely jaw. “And I’m sure my dad will let you stay with us until everything gets sorted out.”

  “Mine won’t change his mind.” His eyes as turbulent as his name, Storm shook his head. “This confrontation was a long time coming. I’m just sad that you had to see it. It’s humiliating, what he said to you. I’m sorry he’s so awful.”

  “It’s not your fault what he does.” My stomach rolled, unsettled by the effect his father had on him. “But what if—”

  “No more what-if scenarios with me and my old man. It’s over. It’s finally over. It’s a fucking relief, really.” His brows drew together, and his gaze turned unfocused. “My mom will be okay. Saber will take care of her and Shield. And I can take care of myself.”

  He was right about his older brother. Saber might be passive where Storm was concerned, but he was fiercely protective of Shield. Still, Saber followed his father’s directives, and as a result was the favored son.

  “Where will you stay tonight?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’ll just crash at a friend’s house.”

  A friend who was a girl, I was sure. Storm had plenty of those, which was one of the reasons why I suspected his dad had jumped to the wrong conclusion about me. My dad had hinted at a similar worry until I’d set him straight.

  We retraced our steps from earlier, but inste
ad of continuing to our favorite surfing spot at the cliffs, we turned right on my street and stopped in front of my apartment complex. Upstairs on the second floor was the one-bedroom apartment I shared with my dad and my little brother.

  “Storm,” I said just as the sun slipped over the horizon. I was frightened for him more than I was sad for me. “Don’t be stubborn. You’re only wearing a wet suit. And you’re barefoot. You should go back to your house so you can at least try to get your things. Try to—”

  “No,” he snapped.

  I flinched, but it wasn’t the harshness in his tone that gutted me. It was the bleakness in his eyes.

  “We’re done being friends, Lilly . . . Lotus. This right now has to be the end of our friendship.”

  “No.” Tears pricking my eyes, I whispered determinedly, “I’ll always be your friend.”

  “I’m not good for you. I have a temper like him, and I’ve known for a while that people are saying shit like he did. Only I was too selfish to let you go. I needed you and your friendship too much, you see.”

  “I need you too.” I tried to reach for Storm, but he stepped back just out of reach, and my heart lurched as my hand fell to my side.

  “We need to say good-bye now.” His expression turned as blank and unyielding as a wall. “We have to. I insist.”

  “We don’t have to do anything.” Stubbornly, I shook my head. I would scale that wall if I had to. I would say or do anything I needed to keep him close. “You can’t leave like his. I don’t care what people say.”

  “You don’t care now. But when you get older, you will, and you should.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You have your whole life ahead of you. A good one. Boyfriends on the horizon. Girlfriends too, that will make better friends for you than me. Parties to go to. College someday. You have a dad who supports you, and a little brother who adores you. One day, you’ll have a great family of your own. I don’t fit into any of that. But I promise you that I’ll never forget you.”

  His eyes glistened. “You’ve been a great friend. The best one I’ve ever had. I hope you won’t forget me.”