by Sarah Price
Brooke hurries over and grabs her arm. “Marty!”
Mom glares at her. So do I. The last thing I need is for her to be antagonizing Mom right now. If anything gets under her skin, it’s one of her children calling her by her first name!
“I mean Mom,” she says sheepishly. “Wait until you hear this!”
“Shush!”
But Brooke ignores me. “Cat rode in the show earlier. You totally missed it.”
Mom looks at me. “What?”
Brooke keeps talking, even though I’m giving her the big stink eye. “And everyone loved her. In fact, they posted a video of her performance, and over ten thousand people liked it!”
Ten thousand? This is news to me. It was only two thousand earlier. My phone, for some reason, has been hit by the battery vampire, and it’s as dead as a doornail. Ten thousand? Holy Hannah Banana!
“I ... I don’t know what to say.” But clearly she’s thinking of ten different things, one of which is why I rode without her permission. I say a quick prayer that she leaves that one in the back of her head and far away from her lips.
“And ...” Brooke pauses, staring directly at my mother.
Oh, sweet mama! She’s going to tell her! I think. No!
“… they want her to go on tour with them!”
And there it is, in all its glory! I shut my eyes and inwardly groan. Thanks, Brooke.
“Excuse me?”
It isn’t often that Mom is out of words, but this time, well ... she’s speechless.
“It’s true. The producer of the tour and the tour manager”—Brooke shoots me a look to keep my mouth shut which, for some odd reason, I do—“they want to talk to you about it.”
Mom laughs. Only it’s not her regular laugh. It’s more of a nervous laugh. “What are you taking about, Brooke?” She turns to look at me. “Cat?”
Swallowing, I nod my head. “It’s true.”
“A tour? A tour of what?”
But neither one of us has time to answer. Gary Green swoops out of nowhere and greets my mother as if she’s a big celebrity. He shakes her hand and pours it on thick about how wonderful I was earlier and how positively the audience responded. I listen as he starts spouting out facts about my social media following which I didn’t even know. These people really know more about me than I do!
Which kinda creeps me out.
Just how long have they been watching me? How much do they know about me? And, even more importantly, if they know so much, how come they haven’t told Aiden? Why isn’t he following me yet?
But I can’t ask these questions. Or, rather, I can but I don’t. Instead, I listen as Gary impresses my mother with all of this amazing knowledge about Cowgirl Cat, who, it appears, is someone other than me.
“Isn’t this exciting?”
I turn to look at Brooke. Her face is glowing and I realize that, suddenly, she’s living the dream, too. But this is supposed to be my dream, not hers ... not my mom’s. And, above all else, where is Aiden Quinn?
“I guess.” I’m looking around, hoping against hope that maybe Clayton will sidle up next to me with Aiden, his bestest upon best friends, to finally introduce me.
I can tell from the announcer that the show is beginning to wind down. It’s the big finale which, usually, belongs to Aiden Quinn and Clayton. But tonight, it’s just Clayton. I jump off the trunk and wander over to the curtain near the side entrance. Peeking through it, I look at the faceless people staring at the arena as Clayton rides his horse, Jasper, into the ring. Jasper’s a brown and white paint horse with a dark mane. Really cute. Clayton trots around, raising his cowboy hat at the cheering (and crying!) girls who are beside themselves. Wow. To think that just an hour or so ago, I was tucked under his arm and pressed against his side. And, unlike me, they’re all shackled to their chairs, unable to do more than dream about meeting him.
How did I get so lucky?
“So ...”
I turn around at the sound of a male voice behind me. It’s Bobbie Baylor. Oh, boy! Wouldn’t Cassie freak out just about now?
“Heard you’re the new gal on tour, eh?”
“Huh?”
He laughs at me. “Wanna take a selfie with me?”
I hesitate because my phone is dead. And, frankly, I don’t give a rattlesnake tail’s shake about Bobbie Baylor. So I simply shrug.
“Come here!” He’s laughing at me and opens up his arms.
I make a face which he clearly doesn’t see because he’s waving to Andy Taylor. “Dude! Take our photo! Me with Cowgirl Cat!”
Oh, sweet mama! Cassie will hunt me down and hurt me over this one! Before I can object, Bobbie wraps me into a great big bear hug. I must be making a strange face because Andy bursts out laughing as he snaps our photo.
“Tag me in that, dude, okay?”
Suddenly there’s a throng of Rodeo Rage riders clamoring around me, hugging me and asking me for group selfies. I really don’t know how to respond since I don’t give a rat’s patootie about any of them. But when I catch a glimpse of Chloe glowering at me, I decide to play it for what it’s worth. I make funny faces for the camera and pose like I’m Annie Oakley, all cool and whatnot. The guys love it. I can tell it’s infuriating Chloe, especially since nobody is paying any attention to her. It’s as if she’s nothing at all ... which, to me, she is.
And then someone shouts, “Hey! Let’s take a picture of Cowgirl Cat with Chloe!”
I see her shiver at the same time that I do. Unfortunately, before I know it, she’s next to me with a big, broad smile and her arm around me like we are the best buds. I, however, cannot fake such emotion and I scowl.
“Oh, that’s rich!” the guy with the camera says. And he’s laughing. I see him wink at me and I wink back at him.
The show ends and with it, the arena lights shine bright. Through the curtain, I watch as the security guards start hustling the audience toward the nearest exits. Several girls escape and try to make a mad dash for the area where we are standing. The guys seem to expect it and egg the girls on, but the security guards swoop in and shoo them away while giving dirty looks to the guys. Frankly, I’m surprised at the audacity of the fangirls as well as the guys encouraging them.
What is going on here?
This is nothing like Topsfield, where I was just a passive observer. And even though I was backstage at Cowtown, that was tame compared to this. I wonder what Aiden would be doing if he was here. Would he be beckoning the girls to break the rules like these guys? Or would he be more reserved and shy?
“Guys! Leave them alone!”
It’s Clayton. Yay! Clayton to the rescue!
He sets them straight, telling them to stop taunting the girls. Bobbie walks by him, making funny noises out of his mouth that sounds like heckling. He just dropped about ten points in my book, but Clayton gained twenty.
“Come on, dude! We have to rest up and get ready for tomorrow.”
Another ten points for Clayton. He’s wiser than these other clowns.
“Cat?”
When I hear my mother’s voice, I turn. She looks as ashen faced as Brooke looked earlier. “Yeah, Mom?”
“I ... uh ... I just finished talking with Gary and want to discuss a few things with you.” She takes ahold of my arm and starts walking away from the mayhem, trying to find a quiet place where she can talk to me.
All around us, people are racing around, cleaning up, and preparing for tomorrow’s event. Apparently there are two shows, one at noon and one at four o’clock. When we finally reach a far corner that’s somewhat quiet, she stops walking and turns toward me.
“I just heard the most amazing things from that Mr. Green.”
I know him as Gary so Mom’s formality takes me by surprise. “Yeah?”
“He wants you to perform again tomorrow.” She pauses. “At both shows. And on Sunday.”
Whoa! Way cool.
“Are you up for that?”
“I thought we were supposed to leave tomorrow,” I say.
/> Mom bites her lip and nods her head. “Yes, we were scheduled to leave. But Gary is willing to pay for us to stay another two nights. And ...” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “... Fly us home on a private jet.”
“Get out!” A private jet? How cool is that?
She puts her hands on my shoulders and leans down to stare into my eyes. “I’m not saying that you have to do this, Cat.” She stops talking long enough to give me one of those looks that says she wants me to pay attention. “But I’m not about to say no because I know that this is something you’re very good at and you enjoy. Very much.”
“What about the rest of the tour?”
She stiffens and presses her lips together. Clearly no decision has been made about that yet. “I need to talk to Marcus. And maybe a lawyer. All of this is a bit much for me. I mean ...” She gives another nervous laugh. “I don’t really know what all of this is about and ...” Another pause. “Well, it’s a bit overwhelming what that Mr. Green is saying.”
Yeah, but my mother is no dummy. If she’s taken aback, she knows that something good is being offered. She probably just wants to make certain it’s on the up and up. I can appreciate that, and I’m so glad I have her looking out for me.
“Let’s just get through the next two days, okay? That is, of course, if you want to stay and do it.”
Do I? Holy Paprika! “Well, yeah! Can I?”
My mother takes her time but then nods her head. “I’d like to learn more about this Rodeo Rage Tour anyway, I suppose.”
That seems a little noncommittal for the big picture, but at least I can stick around and play cowgirl for another two days. Oh, boy! Won’t Leslie Murphy’s head explode now!
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Mom’s Surprise
It’s a weird feeling. I have total, unlimited access backstage. And while there’s still no sign of Aiden Quinn since Saturday’s show (and no one will talk about where he is), I’m enjoying myself. During the meet and greet at the early show, Clayton drags me to stand next to him. When I try to run off, he chases me and picks me up, tossing me over his shoulder in true cowboy style.
I’m mortified, but the fangirls love it.
The line to meet Clayton (and me, I guess) is four times longer than the line to meet Chloe, which gives me more than a little satisfaction. If she wasn’t so gosh darn mean, I wouldn’t feel so happy. But she is. She makes Leslie Murphy look like an amateur.
My social media currency, as Randy and Gary keep calling it, has doubled overnight. Brooke keeps watching me with wide eyes as if she’s staring at a complete stranger. And when I catch her eye during the meet and greet, she gives me a meek smile and waves at me.
“Oh, Cat!” A young girl, probably twelve years old with red hair and braces, is standing in front of me. “You’re my hero!”
I make a face. “I don’t know why ...”
Another girl tries to push past the redhead. But Clayton steps in to divert her attention.
“I mean ... like you know ... you’re doing what all of us want to do!” she says. “Will you follow me on Instagram?”
“Sure thing.” I dig out my phone and ask her for her Instagram name. Suddenly, there’s a mad rush of girls clamoring behind her. They’re all shouting out their screen names and I blink rapidly. “Whoa!”
“It’s pattycakes241,” the redhead says.
I type that into my account and click FOLLOW. I smile and look at pattycakes241. I’m surprised to see that she has tears in her eyes. Again, I’m taken aback. What on earth is going on? I feel like I’m living in a parallel universe.
“Oh, thank you,” she gushes. “And I can’t wait for you to meet Aiden Quinn.”
Yeah, me too!
It’s crazy how these young girls want to take their photos with me. I mean, I’m just Cat Lansing from Morristown, New Jersey. I’m not anyone special. Just a kid who likes the same things they do. In fact, if I was in their shoes, I’d probably not like me one bit. After all, I’m closer to meeting Aiden than any of them. And I already have the entire Rodeo Rage Tour team following me on all my social media accounts. Except Aiden, frown!
So why is it, exactly, that they like me?
I stand next to Clayton for what seems like ten hours, smiling and having my photo taken with all these young girls. It’s not as much fun as I thought it would be, and my feet are starting to ache. But seeing how happy the girls are makes me happy, too. After all, I wouldn’t want to be a phony baloney like Chloe. So I do what I can to make each girl feel special and talk to them as if we are friends.
By the time the meet and greet is over, Clayton looks a little weary. But he finds the energy to give me a grin as he drapes his arm around my shoulder.
“Cowgirl Cat! You’re a natural!”
“At what?” I ask.
“Being a celebrity!”
I laugh at him, but I’m sure that my cheeks are turning bright pink. “Aw, I’m not a celebrity. You guys are.”
He gives me a playful shove. As I stumble, someone grabs me by the waist and spins me around. Bobbie Baylor.
“Yo, Cat! You ready for another ride?”
I grin. “Always ready to ride. But hey! Where’s Aiden anyway? I feel weird riding his horse without him being here.” I keep asking for Aiden and I’m sure everyone’s sick of hearing it, so now I’m asking under the disguise of concern for Dexter.
Bobbie shrugs. “Dunno.” He jogs away from me, leaving me standing alone with Clayton.
I take advantage of our sudden privacy. “So. Clayton.”
“So. Cat.”
“Where is he?”
Clayton glances at his phone, checking the time. “Couldn’t tell you.”
Argh! If only people would just come clean and tell me where he is. I know they know something. Is he coming or not? I mean, all this attention’s fine and dandy, but the only reason I’m there is to meet Aiden. And Clayton guaranteed it, for crying out loud. So much for being true to one’s word.
I’ve been checking Aiden’s social media, and to my surprise, he’s been surprisingly quiet. No postings anywhere. A lot of girls keep posting to his last video, asking why he isn’t on tour with the rest of the guys. I even saw a few comments asking why some Jersey girl is riding his horse. I want to respond, to defend myself, but I know better. I don’t need to be attracting more haters who like to post stupid things to my own social media accounts.
But I’m worried.
The Rodeo Rage Tour doesn’t guarantee that any of the boys will perform at any particular event. So no one can really complain that he’s been MIA ever since his appearance in Topsfield. I heard someone whisper something about Los Angeles, but Randy had mentioned that Aiden was in Denver and flying into Dallas just last night. It sure doesn’t look like he ever arrived. Where on earth is he?
The first show goes well and the audience seems to really respond to my performance. Afterwards, while I’m grooming Dexter, I sense someone standing behind me. When I turn around, I’m surprised to see that my mom is standing there.
“You rode well,” she says. But she’s wearing a funny expression, with a deer-in-the-headlights look about her. “Marcus would be proud.”
I make a noise in my throat and roll my eyes. As if!
“No, seriously, Cat. I spoke to him earlier, and he was nothing but complimentary about what you’re doing here.”
This surprises me. He usually doesn’t have much of anything to say to me. “Really?”
She nods.
“Cool.”
She keeps watching me as I brush Dexter’s coat. “You know, it seems these people really want you to continue on the tour with them, Cat.”
“I don’t know why.” All of this attention on me is making me feel nervous. I’m just Cat, a thirteen-year-old from New Jersey who loves horses. I’m no one special … ask Leslie Murphy or that Chloe chick. But, as my mom watches me, I try to act normal as I pull the comb through Dexter’s mane. I love grooming horses almost as much as
I love to ride. “I’m no better than anyone else. By a long shot.”
She sighs. “I don’t think it’s so much about the riding, Cat, but more about you.”
“Me?” I squeak, looking at her over Dexter’s shoulder.
Nodding her head, she gives me a warm look. “You know what they’re saying. You’ve become a role model. Someone other girls look up to.”
“Ha!” If she only knew how I stole money from her to attend my first Rodeo Rage event, I bet Mom wouldn’t feel the same way about me. But Marcus seemed to want me to stay quiet about that, so I did. “Hardly.”
Mom narrows her eyes and levels her gaze at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Immediately I sense my mistake. She can sniff my deceit, which only adds to my sudden feelings of guilt. Do I really want to ’fess up and tell her? To disappoint her? I swallow and shuffle my feet. I know what I need to do. I can’t live with this cloud hanging over my head. But how can I possibly confess without hanging Alex, too? And he would just kill me.
“I … uh …”
Mom crosses her arms over her chest. “Spill it, Cat.”
“Well, I … you see, remember that thing in Topsfield?”
“Vaguely. Brooke took you and the girls, right?”
I nod my head. “Yeah, that’s it. Well, it’s like this … I kinda, you know, borrowed some money to pay for the tickets. And … well …”
She’s tapping her foot now.
“Okay, okay. I used your credit card, Mom. Marcus found out and I tried to tell you but he didn’t want you upset and I’m paying him back and I’m really, really sorry.” It gushes out like a geyser at Yellowstone Park.
She just stares at me.
“I promise I’ll never do it again,” I mumble, and I mean it.
I wish she would just say something, but she keeps standing there, a weird expression on her face. The seconds of silence begin to feel like eternity.
Finally, she ends the torture. “Did you really think I didn’t know?”
What?! My mouth could have touched the floor.
“Marcus told me, Cat. We decided that he would handle it. I let him.” She tilted her head and her expression softened. “And I knew you would tell me. I noticed you tried the other day and Marcus wouldn’t let you. I wanted you to have that little secret with him, build up your relationship a bit.” She reached out and brushed a stray hair from my cheek. “But thank you, Cat. Thank you for telling me.”