Backstage Pass

by Gaby Triana

  The bell eventually rings, and Liam bolts from his seat and out the door. Not a hello, a smile, a request for an explanation, nothing. Did he really expect me to swoon all over him after knowing each other for one day? Go on, Liam, get out of here! Run off to your next class! Look, you even left your stupid disc case again.

  Next class? Great, next period is physics with Liam. Aurelio, the guy that sits next to him in this class, holds up the abandoned black case. “Anybody see Liam next period?”

  I’m walking out of the same aisle, so I snatch it up. “I do. Gimme.”

  This is turning out to be a lovely day.

  Becca meets me by the door and begins, “Desert, I would never tell anyone what you told me, okay? Why? Who’s giving you weird looks?” She follows me down the hall, toward the science wing.

  “Everyone.”

  “Like who?”

  “Like people I don’t even know.” Just leave me alone.

  “Well, is there some way maybe someone else knows about you? I mean, you yourself said that your name’s on a bunch of websites, maybe someone saw it, maybe someone—”

  “Maybe.” Go the hell away.

  “Desert, you don’t really think it was me, do you?”

  I stop and face her. “I don’t know what to think, okay? Just…go to class. I’ll see you later.”

  “Desert?” She stands there, confused and hurt, as I walk off. She just doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand what this is like, what a bane to my freakin’ existence it is to have this celebrity bullshit hanging over my head!

  At the end of the hall, there’s a crowd buzzing. They’re facing the wall, looking up at something. I need to get through. “Excuse me.” Dammit, people, move!

  “That’s her,” someone says.

  I look up to see all eyes on me. Those aren’t grades on the bulletin board everyone’s gaping at. They’re photos. Of me and Dad.

  Chapter Twelve

  Remember that madness I said would start soon—the one where everybody changes once they know who I’m tied to? Well, it’s here.

  “Hey, is that you in those pictures?”

  “That guy said you’re Flesh’s daughter. That true?”

  “Dude, that’s so awesome!”

  “Did you hear that?”

  “What girl?”

  “This girl, this one.”

  “Ask her!”

  “How come you’re at our school? You guys live here?”

  “Have you always gone to school here? I never knew that!”

  “Bro, who the hell’s Flesh?”

  All these people are in my face, curious and dumbstruck. They’re not trying to annoy the hell out of me, yet they’ve managed to…. I didn’t wake up expecting this today or I might’ve worn something a little more presentable.

  “Excuse me. Excuse me, please.” This hallway is starting to swirl, it’s so damn hot in here.

  “Desert McGraw, man. I have sixth period with her.”

  “Who is she? What’s the big deal, bro?”

  All right, enough already. “Look,” I say, stopping to face the clueless mob, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about me like I wasn’t standing right here.”

  The crowd gasps and leans back. The angry, caged animal is speaking to them.

  “Hey, sorry,” says a guy with red-tipped black hair and three earrings on each lobe. “We just didn’t know you came to our school. That’s cool.”

  I manage a sympathetic smile for these people while taking off to class. “Well, now you know.”

  “My name’s Eddie!” he calls after me, and other people buzz around him to find out what I’d said.

  Eddie, like I care. Did he ever introduce himself before he saw my dad on the board? No, I don’t think so. I just wanna know one thing: Dammit, where’s my stupid class again? There. Does Liam know anything? Probably. That’s why he’s not talking to me. I have to get to him before the others do. The bell’s about to ring.

  Inside the classroom everyone’s chatting in small groups. They pause when they see me, and two guys actually start clapping. Liam’s not here and, honestly, I don’t feel like being here either. I’m gone. If the teacher says anything, I think I have a pretty legitimate excuse for wanting privacy for a day.

  I whirl right back around and exit before Mr. Borrel has a chance to catch me leaving. The bell rings, and the last of the stragglers shuffle in. The noise level in the room has gone up, making the empty hallway the perfect place to be.

  Okay, think, Desert. What now? Do you go back in there, face everybody’s questions with grace, or do you take a breather somewhere? I decide to take a breather.

  First things first. I march over to the language wing bulletin board, where several kids are walking away, questioning each other about the display. I stop and stare for myself. Four photos of me getting home Friday, with my dad in the background picking up the newspaper. How the hell did these get here? I start unpinning them.

  “Hey.” Liam is behind me.

  “Hey.” I spin around, my heart practically in my throat. “What’re you doing here?”

  At first he says nothing. His long, dark eyelashes bat softly over those baby blues. Then “I was coming to take these down.”

  “Why? What do you care?” My face is creepier than ever, I can feel it, but I don’t care. He’s barely even looked at me today.

  “I thought maybe you didn’t want everybody seeing them?” he questions, like I should’ve guessed.

  Duh. I must look like a bat out of hell, because he turns around to leave me standing there, photos in hand.

  “Wait, Liam.” My hand goes out to his shoulder. “Can I talk to you somewhere?”

  “We should be in class.” He tries escaping, but I stop him.

  “Forget class. This is more important.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “These.” I hold up a photo.

  “I already know about that. Everyone does.”

  “But can I explain?”

  “There’s nothing to explain, Desert. You have every right to your privacy. You don’t have to be sorry.”

  “I’m not sorry! I just want to explain it, to you, so you’ll hear it from me, not anyone else.”

  “I already told you I know.” He pauses, looking down at his hands. “I knew it before anyone else.”

  Excuse me? “Huh?”

  “I found out Friday, okay?” His eyebrows shoot up, blue eyes looking guilty as all hell.

  He has got to be kidding me! “No, it’s not okay! What do you mean? How did you find out?”

  He hesitates…. “Let’s go. I’ll explain everything.”

  “You found out Friday?” The day we first talked? “And you didn’t say anything to me about it?” Great! This is just what I should’ve expected! Shame on me for thinking I could get away with this. For thinking anyone could like me for myself.

  “Hey, listen,” he says, holding his palms out, like he’s got nothing to lose. “I don’t know why you’re so upset; you never said anything either, all right?”

  I don’t believe this! So he doesn’t like me for me? It was all an act to get to know Flesh’s daughter? Beautiful, honey-eyed, interesting. Dammit. Argghh! My hand slams the bulletin board, pushpins popping to the tile floor. “Liam!”

  “What?”

  A teacher sticks his head out the door and shushes us.

  “It’s nothing, forget it.” Just walk away, Desert. Go home, even.

  “Aren’t you even the least bit interested in how I know about you?”

  “Not really. Leave me alone.” I wasn’t ready for this. How stupid of me for thinking I could even pretend to have a normal life here! I’m leaving.

  “My stepmother’s a journalist.”

  I stop in my tracks, then do a one-eighty. “Excuse me?”

  “Adriana Portilla. She writes for Tropical Home Life.”

  “What is that?”

  “A magazine down here.”


  “You mean a tabloid?” Great. My love interest is linked to a local tabloid. This is like some sick, twisted joke. “That’s just fantastic!” I throw my arms up. I have nothing left to say.

  “It’s not a tabloid. Please…” He puts his hands up, as if I were armed. “Let’s go somewhere to talk.”

  “Oh, now you wanna talk, do you?”

  Liam steps back.

  Backstage in the auditorium is the perfect place for me to murder Liam Blanco without anyone hearing so much as a peep. How gallant of him to pull up a bucket for me to sit on. Oh, wait, it’s for him. He offers me the only chair in sight.

  “Just calm down, will you?”

  Now I understand why Becca wanted to beat the crap out of me the other day. “Stop telling me to calm down! You listen to me…buddy!”

  “Buddy?” he blurts, a smile brewing at the corner of his lips.

  “Oh, so now you think this is funny?” I swear to God, if he laughs I’ll kick his butt.

  He’s shaking his head, holding his nose at the same time, using all his powers not to laugh. Then he can’t help it, and it all comes rolling out.

  Son of a…Smack!

  His cheek is stinging red, hand coming up to soothe the mark. Damn, I branded him.

  “Oh! Oh, God! Liam! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

  But then he starts again, laughing harder, harder, and then some more. This isn’t funny. This is serious, not something we can just ha-ha about, this is—okay, it’s kinda funny. And suddenly I’m laughing too. Harder than him, I think. His cackles are feeding my hoots and vice versa. Is that me, snorting? This is what happens under great stress, isn’t it? You just fall apart like this?

  After a minute I say, “Okay, breathe.” Hold yourself, Des. Liam’s smile is more gorgeous than ever. It’s just too bad I’m going to have to send him to hell now. “One chance. You explain. I’ll listen.”

  Liam stretches out, taking a deep breath. “Ahhhhh.” He looks up at the tall, dusty curtains, down at the wooden floor.

  “I’m waiting.” My nails tap the side of the aluminum chair.

  “All right, look. My stepmom writes articles—”

  “You mentioned that, Liam. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “I’m—give me a chance, will you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Damn, girl! Coño!” he says, rolling his eyes.

  Con-yo? Whatever that is, I guess I can be a pretty big pain in the ass.

  “She writes a segment every month called Florida Families—kind of a look at different people and the way they live in South Florida. Sometimes it’s good things. Sometimes…it’s not.” He looks at me and waits for my reaction.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Anyway…”

  “You live with her?”

  “On some weekends, but the rest of the time I live with my mom and Michael. My dad, my half sisters, and Adriana live in the Gables. Anyway…”

  Maybe I should stop interrupting him.

  “Someone tipped her off that Flesh and his family were moving to Miami and that your mom is gungho about managing the band to the point where she may be”—he pauses to hook his fingers as quotation marks—“‘neglecting her daughter’s needs.’ So of course, Adriana jumped on the chance to write a killer story.”

  “A killer story? That would totally make my mom look like a bitch.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. But hey, that’s journalism. You know that. She’s just doing her job.”

  “Yeah, typical. Entertainment at the expense of others.”

  He smirks. “She has an aggressive style, especially toward families that are different. From everything that’s ever been printed, it seems like yours handles everything so perfectly. And there’s nothing Adri would love more than to prove everyone wrong.”

  “Whatever. I’m sure some journalists are just ‘doing their job,’ but I think a lot of them are just bitter and find it easier to make targets of nice people instead. Especially if the targets happen to be famous.”

  Liam shrugs. “Well, you might be right. The one thing I never liked about her—please don’t tell my dad…”

  I laugh. “I don’t even know your dad!”

  “Is that Adriana’s always on this high horse about the virtues of motherhood and working from home while raising kids and all that, so it doesn’t surprise me that she wants to do a piece on your mom. She figures it’d be interesting.”

  “Interesting, huh? So you think it’s interesting that people read about my family’s personal life while flipping through Tropical Home Life while sitting on the toilet? ’Cause that’s all it is, Liam. Fodder.”

  I love that word.

  “Yeah, well, I never said I agreed with it.”

  I look away. I hate this. Why do these problems follow me everywhere? “So how do you fit into this, Liam?”

  He sighs and goes on. “She wants to know more about you, what you’re like. If she can show that you behave irrationally, get along poorly with peers, and so on, then she’s got more crap on your mom.”

  “What? So wait…she asked you to watch me, in case I act irrational? God, how totally ridiculous!”

  He feels the slap mark on his face. “Yeah, how totally inconceivable.”

  Ugh. My head drops. “Well, isn’t that nice?” I slide my hand along the curtain ropes next to me. Then I look at the pictures poking out of my backpack. “I had a stalker all along.”

  “Desert, I didn’t take those shots. I didn’t even know about them until after they were taken.”

  “Whatever.”

  “I didn’t! I found out Friday night.”

  Friday night? So, he did pair up with me in class because he wanted to get to know me? Hmm.

  As the corners of my eyes tear up, he goes on, “I know who set up the shot, but it wasn’t me, I swear.”

  “You know? Who, Liam? Who hired the guy? Tell me!”

  “I can’t. Just listen to me. This is what I wanted to say—”

  “What, you have more to tell me? Great, a man of many words!”

  “Desert, just listen. I’m supposed to be watching you for Adri—”

  “You mean stalking me for Adri.”

  “But Becca told me ‘she’s so cool, she’s so funny,’ telling me all about you—”

  “Oh, so Becca knew all along too?” She’s gonna pay for this!

  “No, I haven’t told her.”

  “Why not? She’s Crossfire’s biggest fan.”

  “Believe me, I was dying to all weekend, but I swore to Adri I wouldn’t tell anyone while she was still getting her facts. But listen…I don’t think I can do it, Desert. When we hung out on Friday, I thought you were extremely cool.”

  Stop it. Stop staring at me, Liam Blanco. You’re very dangerous.

  “And I started liking you before Adri asked me any favors.”

  No fair. If he thinks this is having no effect on me, then he doesn’t know me at all. Why am I crying?

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I wipe the stupid tears from my eyes. “Wait. Let me think about this. First you ignore me during English, then you won’t tell me who parked outside my house and took my picture, but you don’t want to hurt me either? Liam, if you don’t want to hurt me, then say who took them! And who the hell posted ’em?”

  His face twists in misery. I know I’m asking him to choose sides here, but I need to know where he stands. He may still be able to prove himself my friend.

  “I don’t know who posted them. Whoever found my CD case, probably. I left it on top of Michael’s car this morning by mistake. When I went back to get it, it was open and the photos were gone.”

  “You mean to tell me these are yours?” I pull out the fantastic shots of me flicking my middle finger. This just keeps getting better and better!

  “A photographer for the magazine took them and e-mailed copies to my stepmother, and she forwarded them to me so I could be sure who to look out for, since I didn’t stay with her la
st weekend. I only brought them to school because I wanted to ask you about it. I’m really sorry, Desert. I wasn’t gonna show them to anyone.”

  I raise a McGraw eyebrow at him.

  “Well, Becca, if anyone, but I didn’t. I shouldn’t have kept them in that stupid case. I’m always leaving it everywhere.”

  I reach into my bag and pull out his CD case. Then I chuck it at him. “Why don’t you glue the damn thing to your butt, so you don’t lose it?”

  He rolls his eyes and sighs. Then he smiles. Liam finds the most awkward moments to show his sense of humor.

  I think about all this for a minute. So my pictures went up. So what? I just wasn’t expecting the secret to get out like this. As my dad would say, “Get on with life, girly.”

  “All right,” I finally say, exhaling loudly. “Fine. But just tell me who hired the guy and let’s forget about this.”

  He exhales deeply, then takes my hands in his. They’re big and warm and feel really, really nice around mine. I have this overwhelming urge to forgive everything, but if he knows this much, he better tell me now, or else William White is history.

  “Someone named Marie.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Demons walk among us, demons in the air

  Devil’s children, posing playmates

  Lurking, hiding everywhere

  Tell me it wasn’t you, tell me I can breathe

  Easier now, you wouldn’t do this to me

  Would you, dear? Would you turn?

  Would you betray without concern?

  Will we ever come to learn?

  Just one chance, explain to me

  Your place within this family tree

  Our trust in you, in jeopardy

  From: saharagobi@crossfire.com

  To: “Brianna Roman”

  Subject: Phys Ed

  this week’s been the pits. situation here’s getting desperate, not like u give a rat’s ass. since u never leave ur computer, i’m gonna assume uv bailed on me, so there’s no point in calling to see where the hell uv been. Unless ur connection’s been down for a month, in which case, sorry. i thought we were friends. guess i was wrong. i guess u don’t need anybody, now that u finally got ur implants. by the way, don’t trust anyone with ur little secret, or u’ll be out of st. alf in a heartbeat. in fact, don’t trust anyone, period.