“Want to mourn together?” Connor asked.
I peeked over the pillow to see him standing over me. He had deep, purple eye bags and looked to be as much of a wreck as I felt.
He lay down on the couch next to me.
“What are we mourning?” I asked. “The loss of my future?”
“And the death of mine.”
My phone buzzed next to me, and I clicked to ignore another incoming FaceTime request from Zach.
“Is that the boyfriend?” Connor asked.
“I’ve declined his calls three times today. You think he’d take the hint.”
“Boys are dumb.”
Amen to that. “You’re a boy, Connor.”
“And I’m dumb.”
The bedroom area door opened, and I pulled my pillow back over my face as my mom walked in.
“Two pouting children in one place?” she asked. “Lucky me.”
Neither one of us answered, and I could only guess that Connor had taken my same pillow-over-the-face approach.
“All right, I’m going to return to the back to answer some emails,”
Mom said. “If either one of my children would like to talk about this week’s events, I’m always here to listen.”
I waited until I heard the click of the back door closing before removing the pillow from my face. I looked over to see Connor doing the same. We remained there for the rest of the fifteen-hour drive, both of us ignoring phone calls and texts and staring at the ceiling in silence.
We Jacksons really do know how to actively ignore our problems.
The only move I’d made in the past twenty-four hours was going from lying on the tour bus couch to lying on Connor’s dressing room couch at the arena.
Connor had now taken to lying on the floor.
A knock came on the dressing room door, and I immediately grabbed my face pillow, as did Connor.
“That trick’s not going to work,” Zach’s voice said.
I ignored him.
“Katelyn,” Zach said.
I figured me ignoring all of his texts and calls was enough to send the message, but apparently not. I continued to ignore him, hoping that he’d give up and leave me alone.
“Jenica somehow found my phone number,” Zach said. “Because she called me and demanded to know if you were alive, since you’ve ghosted everyone.”
Which I’d done for a reason. I still had to process the fact that everything was over for me. I didn’t need other people trying to process it for me.
I wanted to be left alone to grieve what could never be.
“She’s stubborn,” Connor’s voice said. “So good luck.”
The pillow disappeared from my grip, Zach’s face staring down at me. “Unfortunately you’re in a relationship. Which means that you don’t get to ice me out when the going gets tough.”
I reached for my pillow back, and Zach raised it up over his head.
“Give it back,” I demanded.
“Talk to me.”
We stared each other down, and I could feel all of the anger I’d been repressing boiling to the surface. I pushed myself up vertical, swinging my legs over the edge of the couch.
“Leave me alone,” I said. “And give me my pillow back.”
“Talk to me first.”
It was as though the words exploded out of me. “You don’t get to decide that for me, Zach!”
Connor stood up. “I’m not down for a lover’s spat right now. I’ve got my own shit to deal with.” And he left.
Zach sat down next to me on the couch. “I’m not trying to decide anything for you. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m not. Is that what you wanted to hear?” I snapped. “I’m not okay and I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I understand, Kate. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t tell me you understand! You don’t have a clue as to how I’m feeling, or what I’m going through right now, Zach. Don’t tell me you understand when you’ve never been where I am.”
He took a moment, his eyes wide.
But I wasn’t done. Anger was pulsing through my veins, and it was as though I’d lost all control over the words spilling out. “I’ve played soccer since I was four years old. I’ve spent every free day training, working to be the best I could possibly be. And for that all to be taken away from me in a matter of seconds . . . You could never understand that feeling.”
He laid his hand on mine. “You’re right, Kate. I’ve never been through what you have. But I do know the feeling of having something you worked for taken away in seconds. I do know the feeling of having everything suddenly taken from you. And I’m sorry you’re going through this, but I can help if you let me.”
How dare he try to compare his experiences to mine.
“My brother made you famous via Twitter. Our situations are pretty different.”
He paused, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. “You mean his weekly band shout-out? Where he dropped our band name, like, a year ago?”
“Yes, Zach. How else do you think you got on this tour? How do you think you got to where you are right now?”
“I don’t know, Katelyn. Hard work? Dedication? I’m grateful to your brother for including us, but we weren’t the only band whose name he dropped. Just like you’ve poured your heart and soul into soccer, I did the same with Skyline. And I’m sorry if you think I had it all handed to me, but I don’t agree. At all.”
“I’d call it a lucky break.” Venom dripped from my words, silence hanging in the air as I glared at him.
Zach stood up, staring at me in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here, Katelyn. If you want to push me away, that’s fine. I know how it is.”
“Right, because you’re Zachary Matthews. Overcoming medical obstacles is your brand.”
He slowly nodded. “I think I should go.”
“I think so too.”
He reached into his pocket, dropping a piece of paper on the couch. “There’s the list of things I collected for you while you were gone, so you could still have a piece of each tour stop. Guess that was a waste of my time too.”
Tears pricked my eyes as he walked out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.
I had no idea why I’d lashed out at Zach. In the moment, it felt good. It felt right. But now? Now I felt empty. Confused.
The piece of paper was resting on the couch, and I leaned over to see what was written, misspellings and all.
new orleans - string of beads
orlando - mickey mouse keychain
jacksonville - this one was hard, don’t judge me. a jar of sand from the beach.
buffalo - a little outside of buffalo but a niagra falls poncho.
pittsburgh - a cookie from prantl’s bakery. I’m not sure you can save a cookie though.
cinncinati - a pamphlet from a haunted tour that the whole crew did in queens city.
indianapolis - Ross went out and did the searching because I wasn’t feeling well, and for some reason he chose to go to the zoo/aquarium. so you’re now the proud owner of a plush otter.
nashville - of course we went to the country music hall of fame.
you got an ornament of the hall of fame building.
st. louis - we didn’t have time to do anything here. I was lame and got a postcard.
minneapolis - a shopping bag from the mall of america.
milwaukee - I was writing a song, but Jesse and Aaron went to the harley-davidson museum. they got a harley-davidson notebook, and I wrote some of the lyrics inside.
chicago - a mini statue of that giant bean thing.
Zach had thought about me in each city. Not only thought about me, but specifically gathered mini presents for me. And I’d repaid him by blowing up in his face and telling him his success was based on luck, not talent.
What was wrong with me?
SALT LAKE CITY, UT
CHAPTER 31
I needed to get out of this t
our bus. I’d spent all night running through my fight with Zach, beating myself up over and over again.
I didn’t even watch the Denver show last night because I couldn’t bear to see what effect my words might have had on his performance. And then I had to endure being on this tour bus for the eight-hour trip to the next stop, and I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin.
I needed out.
“Connor!” I shouted.
He was in the back room. I’d heard his guitar on and off all morning, meaning that he was probably working on a new song.
Lana’s tell-all interview was tonight. We could both use some time outside of our own heads.
He peeked out from the back room. “What?”
“Let’s go do something.”
A frown tugged on his lips. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “We have a free morning, some time before sound check. And I think we could both use a distraction.”
He came out into the main area, his arms folded across his chest.
“I’m listening.”
“We should go out into public.”
He raised his eyebrows. “And get mobbed?”
“We’ll disguise you.”
“You’re kind of famous too,” he pointed out.
As if. “Okay, so we’ll both go out in disguises,” I conceded. “And we’ll do normal people stuff.”
“What do normal people do?” Connor asked, a smile spreading across his face.
“Go shopping?” I suggested.
“Go out to lunch?”
“Go to the park?”
“Feed ducks!”
That I wasn’t expecting. “What?”
“They break up bread and they feed ducks!”
“Okay, I’m not sure about that one,” I admitted. “But if you want to, we can feed ducks.”
“I would love to do something as mundane and normal as feed ducks.”
Actually, it sounded perfect. “Okay then, let’s go get dressed and feed some ducks!”
“Meet in ten minutes.”
I pointed to my braced knee. “I’ll need fifteen.”
“Deal.”
He stepped into the bathroom and changed, and I picked out a pair of jean shorts and a white V-neck.
Connor came out looking seemingly normal, in a pair of khaki shorts and a black T-shirt. He had a hat pulled on backward, with a pair of sunglasses on.
“Is that your disguise?” I asked.
“The best I can do.”
I went into the bathroom, pulling my hair into a braid as I changed.
“Do you really think this will work?” Connor shouted.
“No!” I called back, changing out of my hoodie and sweatpants.
As I came out of the bathroom, Connor handed me a hat. I pulled it on, along with a pair of sunglasses.
“The knee brace might give us away,” Connor admitted.
“There’s not much I can do about that,” I huffed, as I grabbed my white Vans.
Eddie joined us as my brother called for a car to come and pick us up.
“Can we stop by the store?” I asked, once we were securely inside the car. “I’ll give you extra money in cash.”
“Sure,” the driver agreed.
“What for?” Connor asked.
I extended my arms out to the empty car around us. “If you want to feed some stupid ducks, we’re going to need a loaf of bread.”
“Good point.”
I pulled out my phone. No new texts, not that I expected there to be. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Zach since our fight before the show yesterday.
“Selfie!” Connor announced, smushing his face up against mine and snapping a picture.
“What was that for?” I demanded.
“I’m going to make a collage of our day,” he said, nonchalantly.
“And then post it on my Instagram at the end of the day.”
“You’ll give up our disguises,” I pointed out.
“We can always find new ones.”
Eddie went into the grocery store, coming back out with a loaf of bread as requested.
The driver took us to the location Connor had put in, which was the closest lake he could find on Google Maps.
We headed down to the lake where all the ducks gathered, Connor swinging the loaf of bread around his finger while he whistled and me negotiating the uneven terrain with my crutches.
I took a picture of Connor with the bread, at his request. Eddie hung back, trying to remain inconspicuous. But it was pretty difficult to do when he was six foot six. Connor quacked out loud, causing me to double over in laughter as a couple walking past us stared in confusion. As Connor’s spirits lifted, I found mine lifting as well. And then Connor found his first group of ducks. I found a bench close by, taking a seat to relieve the pressure from my armpits.
“This is it!” Connor shouted. “Are you ready to capture this?”
I held up my phone as I snapped photos of him throwing the bread out toward the ducks.
What we didn’t anticipate was for one of the ducks to charge at him.
“Shit!” Connor yelled, taking off running as the duck chased him.
I couldn’t even capture the moment: my hands were shaking too hard as I laughed.
“Stupid duck!” Connor called out. “No more bread for you.”
Taking the discarded loaf of bread, I broke up pieces and tossed them out to the rest of the ducks. As they feasted, I bent down and picked up a duck feather off the ground. I tucked it away into my backpack, my memento secured for Salt Lake City.
“Okay,” Connor said, as he came jogging back toward me. “I lost the duck.” He was out of breath, his hands sliding down onto his knees. “So . . . Zach hasn’t been around.”
I didn’t want to address this, not now. “Yeah. I know.”
“Did you push him away?”
I didn’t respond, but I didn’t really need to. Connor and I tend to do the same things under stress, one of them being pushing away everyone around us.
“I cut everyone off during the recording of my album,” Connor said, “including you. And it’s still one of my biggest regrets. I was scared that I wouldn’t live up to my EP success, so I locked myself up in the recording studio day in and day out. I cranked out song after song, didn’t talk to anyone outside of those four walls.”
“I remember.”
He leaned over, bumping his shoulder against mine. “Don’t make the same mistakes, baby sis.”
“I think I really screwed things up, Connor. I said things I didn’t mean, I would’ve never said. I was so angry. And I still am.”
“Don’t push away the people who actually want to listen,” Connor said. “Those people come few and far between.”
“I can’t take back what I said.”
“No, you can’t,” he agreed. “But you can own it. And you can do better in the future.”
“I don’t know if what I said is forgivable.”
He was silent a few moments, and I glanced toward him to try to read his facial expression. He was staring out at the lake with a pensive look on his face.
“What about you?” I asked. “Have you talked to Lana?”
“There’s a good chance that Lana goes on national TV tonight and tells everyone that I’m not straight,” Connor said, quietly. “And I’m not ready to address that publicly yet. I’m not ready to even address that privately. I don’t have a label, I don’t have a name for it.
I just know that I’m attracted to all kinds of different people. I really hope that she lets me address this on my own terms.”
Connor had mentioned his sexuality only once to me before. The morning after he and Lana got so drunk they’d spilled their secrets together, he woke me up, crying, sitting on my bed as he recounted what he’d told her.
“I know it’s been a tough year all around, but I will always love you. No matter what.”
“Thanks, Kate.”
I kissed his cheek, wra
pping my arms tightly around his shoulders.
“What happens now?” Connor asked.
I let him go with a sigh. “I guess we stop burying our heads in the sand.”
“Are you sure we can’t stay out here?” Connor asked, gesturing toward the lake.
“We don’t need to leave yet.”
And so we spent the rest of the morning trying to find peace within the serenity of the lake. To embrace the calm before the storm.
Nobody talks about how difficult it is to push a cart while using crutches.
I’d taken a taxi to the nearest Target and had been trying to gather supplies for my apology gift to Zach. But I’d quickly given up, instead placing a pick-up order and waiting around for the order to be filled. A poster board. A pack of markers. Colored construction paper. A stick of glue. And a lot of glitter glue. It was going to be the cheesiest thing I’d ever done. But I was hoping that it would be cheesy enough to work.
Thankfully, a Target employee helped me carry the bags out to my taxi. I went back to the tour bus, spreading my supplies out across the small table. According to the time on my phone, I had two and a half hours before the show ended. Thirty minutes before Lana’s interview went live.
I was holding off on watching the interview until Connor was through with the show. And then we were going to find out what Lana said. Together. Dad had a lawyer on call, ready to release a lawsuit if the NDA was broken. Not that it would matter; the damage would be done.
In the meantime, I wanted to catch Zach before the Lana interview recap. So I got to work on my handmade, jumbo-sized apology card. I didn’t have an artistic bone in my body, so I didn’t have high expectations for my apology card. But I knew that Zach wouldn’t respond to me showing up at his dressing room, not after everything I’d said. I needed a gimmick to get me through the door, something to sway him enough to hear me out. And I was counting on this card to be my ticket in.
I spent the next hour and a half decorating the card. I tried to make it less kindergarten-craft and more whimsical and artsy, but it looked like a glitter glue explosion at the end.
On the outside, I’d written I’M SORRY, ZACH in big, block letters that I’d cut out of colored construction paper. I’d surrounded it with squiggly lines and arrows, keeping the apology the main focus of the front.
Along for the Ride Page 24