“Anna, I feel I should warn you—there is a horde of paparazzi waiting for you through the arrivals doors.”
“I should have guessed they’d know,” I sighed.
“Miss Duke is there and I’ve just spoken to her on the phone. I believe your father has arranged for some airport security to help guide you to your car.”
I nodded. Mrs. Ginnwell straightened up as two men and a woman in uniform came over to us. “Ah, here is the security. You might want to say good-bye to your friends so they can go through first.”
“Thanks.”
She smiled gently at me and then went to introduce herself to the security officers, who began to fill her in on the procedure of getting me safely to Dad’s car.
Stephanie spoke first, walking around the trolley that had her and Danny’s bags piled on it. “See you soon, Anna,” she said with a smile, giving me a hug. “Thanks for the adventure.”
“I’m so sorry I got you in trouble! And, because of me, you missed out on the party.”
“Anna, we got kicked out of a show because you assaulted a rock star!” She grinned. “I’ve never had more fun in my life!”
I laughed and then held my arms out to say good-bye to Danny, attempting a ruffle at his blond curls, but he slapped away my hand just in time. “If you need a break from the wedding madness, let us know,” he smiled, looking back at Stephanie and Jess, who were both nodding in agreement.
Jess moved forward and threw her arms around my neck. “See you, loser!”
She stepped back and pulled the sunglasses off the top of her head, gave the lenses a wipe with her T-shirt, and then put them on, turning to Stephanie and Danny. “I’m ready for the paps.”
The three of them waved cheerily at me and then made their way toward the exit.
Brendan stepped forward and held up his hand for a high five.
“Nice work with my Genius Plan. I enjoyed plotting together,” he said, then added, “I didn’t think you had it in you, but I’ll admit I was wrong. You’ve changed, Huntley. It’s not every day that you take down a rock star.”
“Thanks, Brendan.” I laughed. “You’re actually not the first person to say that about this trip. And you’re not bad at acting. If ever you want to give it a stab, I could introduce you to Helena.”
“It could be a good fallback if my football career doesn’t work out,” he considered. He looked at James, who was staring at his feet. “Well.” Brendan rubbed his hands together. “I’m going to get out of here and leave you guys to it. Bye, Tyndale.”
He clapped James on the back and then sauntered out, wheeling his suitcase behind him.
“So, guess I’ll be seeing you back at school,” James said.
“Guess so. Thanks for everything.”
“I didn’t do anything, Anna. Everything that happened, that was all you—I can’t think of anyone else who would throw a jug of water in a jerk rock star’s face.”
I laughed and buried my face in my hands at the memory.
He pulled my hands away gently, standing so close that I went slightly cross-eyed, which probably wasn’t my best look.
“I meant what I said about the fame thing, Anna. Don’t worry about your dad or Marianne. It’s not about them being famous—it’s about knowing the right person at the right time. Your dad and Helena have that. Marianne will soon one day. And you . . .” Suddenly he let go of my hands and stepped back. “You have Connor.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“I better go,” he mumbled. He grabbed the handle of his suitcase. “You don’t need to thank me, Anna. You made my trip.”
And with a weak smile, he waved good-bye and walked toward the exit. I stood in a daze, trying to work out what on EARTH had just occurred. And trying very hard not to think about everyone I still needed to see at home.
“Right then,” the security woman said chirpily behind me, making me jump about three meters in the air. “Are you ready to go?”
I gulped and nodded, searching frantically in my bag for my sunglasses and then putting them on. “I’m not being pretentious,” I explained as one of the men took charge of my bag, coming to walk in front with Mrs. Ginnwell. The other two moved on either side of me. “I wear these so I don’t get blinded by the camera flashes.”
“No need to explain, Miss Huntley.” The man next to me chuckled. “You just do your thing and let us do ours.” He nodded at the woman and she placed an arm around my waist as he placed one around my shoulders.
The doors slid open, and the noise made my ears ring. Hundreds of flashbulbs went off and I just kept walking, putting my trust in the security officers. Eventually my head was ducked into a car and the door shut behind me.
My mom, waiting in the back seat, dragged me across into her arms, and Dad put his foot down hard on the accelerator, speeding away from the airport.
“We’re so happy you’re home!” Mom exclaimed, practically squeezing my face off my skull.
“Thanks, Mom,” I wheezed, finally drawing breath when she released me. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hello, Anna-pops. Glad you’re home. By the way, you’re grounded.”
“What? Why? That is so unfair!”
“Hmm, let me think why you of all people might be grounded . . . ,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Perhaps it’s because you disobeyed absolutely everyone, got thrown out of a music concert, and physically attacked a rock star. We’re lucky he’s not pressing charges.”
“It was only water,” I said huffily. “Helena said she was proud of me. Where is Helena anyway?”
“She’s—” my mom began.
“She’s busy,” Dad said quickly.
I nodded. Dad changed the subject and I pretended I hadn’t seen the warning look he gave my mom in the rear-view mirror.
21.
DAD INFORMED ME THERE WAS a surprise waiting for me at the house.
I did all I could to get it out of him, questioning him the whole way home. “Is it a puppy? Is it? A little puppy? Did you get me a puppy?”
“No, Anna!” he cried as we turned into our road. “For the last time, it is NOT a puppy. Don’t you think we have enough on our hands with your yellow Labrador? Last week Dog escaped, and then he came back carrying a cage with a parakeet inside it! It will be a long time before I even consider buying another dog.”
My excitement vanished when I saw the swarm of paparazzi outside our house. Was this the surprise?
“Whoa.” I gasped. “There are so many!”
“It’s been like this all week,” Dad seethed as they recognized the car and the camera flashes started popping. We crawled through them so Dad could park.
“Anna, look!” Mom laughed, pointing at the house.
Dog’s head popped up at the window, and he started jumping up and down so excitedly when he saw the car that he actually headbutted the glass of the window as he sprang toward us and fell backward out of sight.
At first I thought he might have knocked himself unconscious, but then he sprang back into view, lunging at the glass again, headbutting it, and knocking himself backward for a second time.
“If he’s not careful, he’s going to kill himself,” Dad said, parking and fumbling for the house keys. “Right, Rebecca, I’ll come around and get the door on Anna’s side and then we’ll get her through them together.”
“Yes, Captain,” Mom said, saluting him.
He took a deep breath and then opened his car door and was hit with a barrage of noise. The door shut, muffling the sound again.
“Poor Dad. I feel terrible,” I whispered, the guilt of my Italian adventure making my heart sink.
“This isn’t your fault,” Mom said gently. “It would have been like this no matter what happened. The wedding is a big story.”
My door swung open. Dad helped me out and then tucked me under his arm, with Mom doing the same on the other side, and together we barreled through their microphones to the front door.
“Nick! Nick! Is it true the qu
een will be attending the wedding?”
“Nick! What do you have to say about claims the wedding may be canceled?”
“Anna, have you heard from Tom Kyzer after your heated row?”
As soon as we shut the door behind us, the three of us exhaled together and Dad shook his head, throwing the keys onto the telephone table.
“That was—”
But I didn’t have time to finish my sentence. Dog zoomed out of the sitting room, skidded around the corner—taking down the telephone table, which crashed to the ground and sent the phone, books, and keys scattering—and ran full pelt straight at me, jumping up and crashing his head against mine.
I stumbled backward in a daze and then toppled over to land on my back with Dog standing happily on top of me, slurping all over my face.
“Anna!” Mom cried. Dad grabbed Dog’s collar and pulled him off me.
I instinctively rolled over onto my front.
“Anna, there is no need to get in the recovery position,” Dad said in a strained voice, holding Dog’s collar as he pulled with all his might to get to me.
“Are you all right?” Mom knelt down next to me and peered into my face.
“My face is broken,” I groaned. “Tell me the damage! Will I ever be able to go out in public again?”
The corners of Mom’s mouth twitched. “It looks like you’re fine. Come on, up you get.” She helped me to my feet and I cradled my face. “There you go,” she said, guiding me forward. “Let’s put you on the sofa with a nice cup of tea.”
I hobbled into the sitting room and there, standing in the middle of it, waiting for me, was Connor.
* * *
“Surprise!” he said, stepping forward enthusiastically before stalling, clearly not sure what to do.
“Connor!” I cried, still holding my face. “You’re here!”
We both stood awkwardly. “Shall I . . . uh . . . Are you okay? I heard a commotion.”
“Oh, Dog tried to kill me. It’s no big deal.”
“I’ll just go and help your father make the tea and leave you guys to get reacquainted,” my mom said in this really embarrassing, smushy voice. “You must be so pleased to see each other! I remember the first time I saw Miguel after he left prison and—”
“OKAY, THANKS, MOM.”
She nodded in understanding, backed out of the room, and then winked at me before shutting the door behind her.
Where can I get a new family?
“Sit down!” I said in an embarrassingly squeaky voice, breaking the silence and gesturing to the sofa. He sat down, pushing his gorgeously floppy bangs out of his eyes. I’d been looking forward to seeing him so much while I was in Italy and now here he was right in front of me on the sofa, and I was feeling . . . nervous.
That was a good thing, right? Looking at Connor, it seemed as if he might be feeling the same way.
“Sorry about my parents. Have you been waiting here long?” I said.
“I had Dog keeping me company,” he said, the corners of his mouth wrinkling into a shy smile. “He went bonkers when he saw you drive in.”
“Yeah, I saw him at the window.” I laughed.
We both went quiet again. “So, tell me about the comic book!”
“It’s great! Really good. Thanks so much for your e-mails.”
“That’s okay. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to cheer you on while it was all happening!”
“To be honest, I haven’t really left my room,” he explained. “I’ve had a lot on my plate.”
“Sure,” I agreed.
“So, Italy . . .”
“Oh, my goodness, Connor, it was just incredible. So hot over there and everyone is so fashionable and all the buildings are the most beautiful things. And the food—it’s so good.” I grinned at him. “I had a LOT of ice cream.”
“And got into a lot of trouble.” He raised his eyebrows. “I heard Tom Kyzer didn’t enjoy his Italian experience as much as you did. I had a hard time believing what the press was saying had happened.”
“Really?” I felt my cheeks flushing and wished we could talk about something else.
“It just didn’t sound like you. I don’t know.” He hesitated and then reached over and placed his hand over mine. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.” I smiled. “Thanks.”
“And I’m glad that you found the ice cream.” Connor grinned.
I laughed. This felt a bit more like the “us” I was used to before I went to Italy. I figured we must both be feeling nervous after not having been able to talk much in Rome.
I felt a wave of guilt as I remembered what Sophie had said about Connor, who, despite his shy tendencies, put up with all the drama that came hand in hand with dating me, like having to battle through the paparazzi to get to my front door and face seeing pictures of himself plastered all over the Internet whenever we went on a date. And after the Tom Kyzer thing, all he cared about was that I was okay.
I realized I needed to make things okay again for good or I was going to lose not only someone who cared about me that much, but also potentially the ONLY person in the world who would put up with me doing stupid, embarrassing things like knocking over Iron Man and almost flattening everyone.
“Connor,” I said, sitting up with a sudden brain wave, remembering something Helena had said before the vacation. “Will you come to the wedding with me?”
“The wedding? Your dad’s wedding?”
“Yeah.” I nodded firmly. “Will you come with me? Like as my, er, date. Obviously.”
“Of course! That is, if you want me to.”
“Yes. Yes I do want you to. Are you sure? Helena might make you walk me down the aisle and stuff—you know she’s corny about that kind of thing.” I laughed half-heartedly.
“No problem,” he said, looking a bit taken aback but pleased nonetheless.
“Great!”
He nodded and it went back to silence again except for all the yelling outside from the reporters. They knew that we weren’t going to come out again so I don’t know why they had decided to raise their voices all of a sudden. Then the doorbell rang.
“Is that the press?” Connor looked flustered. “You don’t ever get a break, huh?”
We heard Dad march down the hall and then, quick as a flash, open the door and shut it again. Dad greeted whoever it was and then I heard a familiar sound of clacking along our floor. I leaped to my feet as the sitting-room door opened.
“Marianne!” I cried, rushing over and throwing my arms around her.
“Hey there,” she gasped as I pounced on her.
I took a step back and looked at her.
“How are you?” I asked.
“I’ve been better.” She smiled weakly and I had to agree. Her eyes, usually defined with thick eyeliner, were red and squinty, with dark circles below them. I took in her tracksuit bottoms and loose-fitting sweater, her makeup-free face and jewelry-free wrists. She still looked more beautiful than anyone else I knew, though.
She waved her sunglasses in her hand. “Thank goodness for these. They cover my face so I won’t look so horrific in the photos.” Her eyes moved past me. “Hey, Connor, good to see you.”
“You too.”
He stood up and gestured for her to sit on the sofa while he went to sit in the armchair. I slumped down next to her and held her hand. “I’m so sorry about Tom, Marianne,” I said gently.
“Me too,” she replied, squeezing my hand.
Mom came in with biscuits and tea for everyone, and Dad followed her, bringing through Dog who ran over to give Marianne an enthusiastic welcome. She smiled and stroked his soft head as he put his paw up onto her lap.
Dog’s sensitivity never fails to amaze me.
“I heard about what you did in Rome, Anna. Attacking Tom with a jug of water and being thrown out of the show,” Marianne said, the corners of her mouth twitching.
“Ah, yes,” I said, leaning back onto the cushions. “That old tale.”
“Marianne, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“That was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she said, quietly interrupting me with a grateful smile. Her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”
My mom gave out a little sob and Dad rolled his eyes.
“Um, I should probably be going,” Connor said suddenly.
“Really?” I tried not to sound too surprised.
“I’ve had a long break from work and I’ve got a bit to do. Plus,” he glanced at Marianne, “I should let you guys catch up.”
“I’ll drop you home, Connor,” Dad said. “You don’t want that lot outside pestering you.”
“I’ll do it, Nick,” Mom insisted. “You relax for a bit.”
Connor thanked them and then said good-bye to Marianne. We followed Mom into the hall. “We had better link arms, Connor, and face them together,” she sighed.
He nodded and then turned to me.
“I’ll call you tonight,” he promised. “We’ll do something over the next couple of days. I really do want to hear all about your trip. It’ll be just like old times.”
I smiled.
Conscious that we weren’t alone, he leaned over, gave me a peck on the cheek, and then walked out with Mom into the chaos.
22.
EXACTLY ONE WEEK BEFORE THE wedding I asked Dad when the rehearsal would be.
“What rehearsal?” he responded, not looking up from his computer as I peered around the door of his study.
“The wedding rehearsal. You know, where we run through everything. Practice walking down the aisle and that sort of thing.”
“Oh, that. We won’t be doing that.” He continued to type furiously at his keyboard.
I folded my arms. “Why not?”
“It’s not necessary.”
“It is very much necessary!”
“Anna,” he sighed, finally turning to pay attention to me. “What is wrong? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”
“I just think it’s weird not to have a rehearsal. How will I know how to walk down the aisle?”
The It Girl in Rome Page 13