Date With A Rockstar

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Date With A Rockstar Page 23

by Sarah Gagnon


  He’s on the floor, scrambling to get back on his feet. He flips the coffee table out of the way. There’s a grating metal sound. The side of the couch snaps off.

  Jeremy grabs my arm. “Get down!” he screams.

  I drop to my knees, still trying to see the storm outside.

  Derek bursts into the room. “Jeremy, over here! Hallway. No windows.”

  Jeremy tries to pull me.

  “Wait!” I yell back, but the rushing wind eats my words. “My pants are stuck.” I struggle to unhook the material from the rusted metal spear.

  “Damn it! On the ground, now!” Derek screams as he runs toward us.

  Jeremy rips me free. He stares back, frantic. Like I might blow away if he lets go of my arm. The other side of the glass wall is hanging on. Then there’s a loud pop. We duck our heads. Jeremy’s hand slides down my arm, grasping my hand.

  Derek starts to crabwalk toward the door and we follow. Then the metal wrenches away from the couch and swings across the room. The crane slams into the other half of the window. Wind whips my hair back. I turn toward the noise.

  “Shit.” I watch the glass shatter and come at me.

  Jeremy pulls me against him.

  I feel weird. “I think something hit me.”

  “Oh, my God! Monet! Stay with me!” I hear him scream. His voice is muffled in my head, then everything gets dark.

  TWENTY-TWO

  I WAKE UP in the hospital. There’s a pint of blood hanging above me and a tube in my arm. I pat my free hand over my body. Everything hurts. My skin pulls tight around my middle and I loosen my hospital gown with one hand and look down. A huge line stretches from under my breast across my stomach and down my hip. New fake skin holds me all together. Thank goodness I wasn’t conscious when they put on that stuff.

  “Oh good, you’re awake.” The nurse stands by my bedside, monitoring the screen displaying my vitals.

  “Is Jeremy okay?”

  “He’s fine. A gash on his forehead, but nothing too bad.”

  I half expect him to be sitting in the empty chair in the corner of the room. I try to sit up a little to be sure he isn’t. The nurse rests her hand on my shoulder. “He left a bag with a change of clothes for you. But don’t even think about trying to move yet. You need to be very still for another day. New skin only works so well on a cut that long and deep. That glass just about cut you in half.”

  “But I’m okay now?”

  “Yeah, you’ll heal up fine. You might have a small scar. The doctor on duty can answer more of your questions when he makes rounds later.”

  “Okay, good.” I try to think this through. I’m in the hospital. Did anyone tell Mom? How the hell am I going to pay for this? “Can you just hand me the bag for a minute?”

  The nurse shakes her head at me, but grabs my bag. I reach my hand inside. Aw, Jeremy packed his own sweatshirt for me. I reach deeper. Thank God. My bank chip is still in the bottom of the bag and not stuck in the wreckage of his apartment. I pull out the chip.

  “Um, how soon can I get out of here?”

  “Well, the doctor will need to approve your release.”

  “I don’t have health insurance.”

  “Ah, well, you don’t need to worry about any of that. Mr. Bane scanned his chip in when you arrived. He said he’d cover any charges and impressed upon us that we were to provide you with top notch care.”

  “Wow.” Like, holy shit, WOW. “I also want to get the cure for Fluxem while I’m here. I have enough money, so you don’t have to charge Jeremy for that.”

  “Oh, he scheduled that yesterday. You’ve had the first two shots already. One more later today and you’ll be all set.”

  I’m already two-thirds cured! I slept through it. All this time and my problems were being fixed while I was unconscious. “Oh.” That’s just incredible. I can’t believe Jeremy did this for me.

  The nurse winks at me. “He’s quite the keeper.” She moves around the room, checking the monitors. “He stayed with you all day yesterday.” She points at the enormous bouquet of roses on the other side of my bed. “Those are from him.”

  “Oh. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  “I’m not sure, honey. A few guys came by in suits. I didn’t listen in, but I take it he had a prior obligation.”

  The show. They came to pick him up for his final dates. I should’ve had one more date. I ruined my last moment with him by not ducking down. Stupid.

  “Do you want me to tell your friend you’re awake?”

  “Friend?”

  “A Miss Praline is in a room just down the hall. She said you guys lived together.”

  “She’s awake?”

  “Yup, she came around about the time they were bringing you in. I’ll send her over.” The nurse leaves me with a glass of water.

  Praline’s okay. I am so thankful. She walks in beaming with excitement. “You missed it.”

  “Missed what?”

  “The show last night. It was so awesome.” I doubt that. “Jeremy finished the benefit concert. From the footage there was still debris all over the road in front. But, oh, my, Jeremy was so dreamy.”

  “Wow. I wish I could have seen the rest.” The one time the show isn’t berating the contestants and I sleep through it. “What did he wear?”

  “He had on this tight gray T-shirt with waves printed on it, totally cool. And of course his usual frayed jeans.”

  “What were the waves like?”

  Praline curls her hand through the air, mimicking the shirt. I’m not positive, but I think it might be mine. I sigh. “I can’t believe I missed the show. I love his concerts. I was so bummed we only got to see one song after the selection.”

  “I was unconscious for that, but they’ve been replaying the show all morning on the re-run channel.” Praline flops down in the chair. “So, I hear you’re the one who really won the other night. The nurses have been gossiping about how Jeremy Bane carried you through the front door of the hospital himself. You were all drenched in blood and he was pale as death.” She pauses and fans her face. “So romantic.”

  “Did they say anything else?”

  “Not much, just that Jeremy was totally worried about you and so cute about it.”

  My heart rate on the screen by my bed increases.

  Praline bites her nails. “Are you going to turn on the TV, or what?”

  “Huh?”

  “Duh, seven-thirty. Tonight they’re letting the other contestants give Jeremy their opinions on who he should pick. They even filmed a segment with me in my hospital bed earlier today.” Praline cracks an evil smirk. “They had me act extra sick and recline like I was near death. Guess it adds to the drama. Too bad you weren’t awake. I bet you had some stuff to say about that ho, Jasmine. Oh, I should warn you, after they left my room I heard them asking the nurse about taking a few pictures of you.”

  “Ugh. While I was unconscious? That can’t be legal.” I fumble for the button on the side of my hospital bed and the show pops up on the wall. The nurse’s check-board blocks a corner of the projection. The final two sit in another fake living room setup, with the other girls on couches surrounding them.

  “—one thing and then she’d do the opposite. She was all like, ‘I’ll be in the restaurant or I’m going for a walk,’ when I know for a fact she was just lurking out by the elevator, waiting for Jeremy.” Mel finishes and the camera pans back. Ooh, I bet she’s talking about Jasmine. Jeremy sits off to the side, watching the proceedings. He rubs his hand across his mouth and down his neck. I wonder what he’s thinking.

  The screen switches back to Rod Bing. “How about you, Claire, do you have any recommendations for Jeremy?”

  “Yeah, don’t pick that bitch Jasmine. I don’t care what she was like when you were kids. She’s a pit viper now.” Jeremy shakes his head and the camera focuses back on the host.

  “Wow, harsh words.” The crinkle of Rod Bing’s eyes gives away his joy. He’s loving the drama and probab
ly fantasizing about his ratings zipping up. “Jasmine, do you have anything to say to her accusations?”

  “I honestly have no idea why the other girls would be so mean. I can only assume that they are upset about my prior relationship with Jeremy.”

  They flash back to Claire, who narrows her eyes in challenge.

  “Well Jasmine, there’s one contestant who won’t be saying anything negative about you tonight.” A picture of me fills the screen behind Rod Bing’s desk. I don’t even look like me. I’m deathly pale and expressionless. “Monet was struck by debris during the hurricane, but don’t worry the doctors have said she’ll be just fine.” He straightens the scarf around his neck. Jasmine shrugs. Then the footage shifts to Praline in her hospital bed. “That’s me!” I shush her so that I can hear what she said.

  “I think Jeremy should pick whoever he likes the most. Jasmine doesn’t deserve him. She’s been trying to manipulate the competition the entire time, and just because the television audience has been fooled, doesn’t mean Jeremy should be, too.” Praline reclines back in the hospital bed, like she’s out of breath and that was her dying sentence. Very good acting. I smile over at her and give her a thumb’s up. The microphone picks up a weird popping noise, and I imagine Jasmine clenching her jaw.

  One of the other clones starts talking. “At first I thought Jasmine was my friend, but she never even told me that she knew Jeremy.”

  Praline sits up straight. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you, Shelley has cancer again.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  She hangs her head. “It’s possible she doesn’t, but after they got done with the concert, they had that doctor come back, which is kind of convenient drama for the show.” She shrugs. “Who knows? It’s TV, but that’s what they said.” What an awful thing to joke about if it isn’t true. Jeremy comes back on the screen and we both go silent.

  “Jeremy, what do you think about all of these revelations? I’m getting the impression that none of these girls want you to pick your childhood sweetheart.”

  Jeremy cringes at the word sweetheart. “I take their opinions very seriously. There are a lot of wonderful girls here, and I had a great time getting to know every one of them. But in the end, the choice is mine.” That sounded a little scripted.

  Rod Bing turns to Shelley Anne. “Well, you must feel pretty good right now. Your fellow contestants haven’t said a thing about you.”

  “Well, Rod, in one way that kind of means I’m not memorable enough to form strong emotions about. But I hope Jeremy will remember our kiss.”

  The show goes around the living room, giving each girl a chance to talk. Jasmine gets nailed so bad, I’m not even sad that I missed my opportunity to get in a few digs. I wanted Jasmine taken down, but it doesn’t show the other girls in a very flattering way.

  “Tune in tomorrow night for the grand finale.” Big drum roll. “When Jeremy finally picks the girl of his dreams.” Fade to commercial.

  I turn to Praline. “What do you think? Is Jasmine out of the running now?”

  “Who knows? Claire had her description right, she’s like a pit snake.”

  “Even if Jeremy does pick her, I can’t imagine that he truly has feelings for her.” I try to shift myself up, and wince when my skin pulls funny. Praline’s full of color and life again. “You look so much better. Are you really okay?” I ask seriously.

  She hangs her head. “Death by candy binge.” Her laugh sounds forced. “Oh, I’m okay. The producers have managed to convince everyone that the overdose was accidental. Apparently, they don’t want anyone suing them, which works out perfect for me. My parents would probably send me back to the institution if they thought I’d tried to kill myself again.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay. But even if everyone thinks it was an accident, you should still get some counseling. Trying to kill yourself is serious.”

  She sighs. “I know.”

  “So don’t ever do that to me or anyone else again. Finding you like that was terrifying.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I reach out my hand and she squeezes it. “Never again.”

  “I have to tell you one more thing. When you were unconscious I gave you CPR. I have Fluxem and I wanted you to be aware that there’s a small chance some of my saliva could’ve transferred.” It feels so weird to finally just admit to having the disease.

  “Oh. Ew.” She grimaces. I look down at the bed.

  “No, I didn’t mean that you’re gross. Just the idea of drool going in my mouth. My parents sprang for every vaccine known before I was admitted to the institution. Their way of trying to fix me.” The nurse pops her head in.

  “Sorry to interrupt, girls, but I have to give Monet her final shot.”

  “Sorry, this one has to go in your hip,” the nurse says. “But then you’ll be Fluxem free.”

  Praline nods. “Guess that answers my next question. I’m glad you’re getting the cure. I’ll stop by again later.”

  I relax on the bed and shift so that my one hip is up. The shot is instant.

  Bam. I’m cured. The sores will take a few days to heal up, but the disease is out of my system.

  After all this time. Just like that. I feel like it should hurt more or take longer. Such a simple procedure. I’m done. Fluxem free. Which means, since Jeremy already paid, I’ll be able to go to college. At least for the first semester. My nose tingles, and since there’s no one else in the room, I don’t even wipe away the happy tears that run down my cheeks.

  TWENTY-THREE

  PRALINE TRUDGES BACK to my room in time for the finale with her dinner tray. “You’re in a good mood,” she says.

  “Pain medicine.”

  She glances at the clock. “Almost time. I can’t believe the show’s ending.”

  “It’s strange, I feel so different from who I was standing in that line,” I tell her.

  “I know what you mean.” She laughs. “Maybe it’s our near death experiences. Or maybe Jeremy’s star power has rubbed off on us.”

  I shake my head. “Who do you think he’s going to pick?”

  She smiles big. “You.”

  “No, really. I’m not even there.”

  “Come on. He gave you the red save card. Of course you’re his choice.”

  I wish. The familiar black screen shows on the hospital wall and then the words scroll across with Rod Bing’s voice. Who will win Jeremy Bane’s heart and 30,000 dollars?

  Jeremy sits on the heart couch facing Rod Bing. He has a red line on his forehead, presumably from where a shard of glass hit him. A huge red curtain cuts the stage in half. Jeremy and Rod Bing are on one side, and on the other, each of the finalists stand in a soundproof glass box. They look like huge porcelain dolls.

  “So, are you ready to make your final selection tonight?” Rod Bing asks. He’s wearing a red scarf tonight and the extra makeup around his eyes only intensifies his exaggerated expression. “I notice we’re a few girls short here. Brie will be tied up with the court system until she can arrange payments for those back taxes, and Monet is still in the hospital. Do you know anything about that?” He winks.

  Jeremy drops his head. “No, but I hope she’s better soon. I want to offer my condolences to anyone affected by this catastrophic weather.” Ah. I guess he can’t say we were hanging out. That would be against the show rules. Still, that just sucks.

  Rod Bing nods along. “Well, despite all of that, a decision must be made. Are you ready?”

  “I think I am. I’ve met a lot of great girls this week and it’s a shame I can only pick one.” His words sound rehearsed to me. But Praline “oohs.”

  “Can you give us a hint about what qualities impressed you most about the girl you’ve selected.”

  “Her sense of fearlessness and her beauty, obviously.”

  “Before you choose, we have a few highlights from the week.” There’s a musical montage of romantic moments from the dates.

  Rod Bing asks Jeremy more questions
. I can’t take the answers seriously when Jeremy sounds like he’s reading. Then the drums begin. Faster and faster. “Which girl do you want to speak with first?” He does his signature eye-widen.

  “Shelley Anne.” Rod Bing pulls back the curtain and releases her from the glass booth. She teeters slowly across the stage on high heels. Rod Bing links his arm with hers and pats her hand as they walk. She stops in front of Jeremy and gazes up at him.

  “I was sorry to hear about your recent medical news. I hope the money this show is generating for research will help them find a cure for you.”

  She keeps her chin up, nodding and waiting for his decision.

  “I’ll talk to Jasmine first before I make my choice.”

  Rod Bing releases Jasmine from the soundproof box. She struts across the stage and Bing has to hustle to keep up with her. Judging from her smile, she’s sure she’s won. She thinks because she’s last, Jeremy picked her.

  “All right, time to talk to the last contestant.”

  “Jasmine, I’ve really enjoyed being reunited with you, and while our date wasn’t exactly fun, it was certainly memorable. I remember all the times we had when we were kids and you have turned into a beautiful woman, but…I still think of you as just a friend, which is why I didn’t choose you.”

  “Wait. Does that mean you pick me?” Shelley bounces up and down. Her boobs follow.

  Jasmine’s mouth gapes open and shut. “Her?”

  I’m thinking the same thing. It has to be a sympathy pick. Ugh. That makes me sound so shallow, but Shelley?

  Jeremy yells over them. “Sorry, girls! I pick Monet!”

  ME?

  I can’t breathe. My heart stops. I glance at my vitals, surprised that it didn’t truly fail.

  Shelley stops bouncing.

  Then Jasmine turns to Jeremy and slaps him. Right across the face.

  I’m staring in disbelief when the door to my hospital room bangs open. A camera lens focuses on me. I look back at the TV and there my image is on the screen above the stage. On the display, money rains down around my head. Bells and whistles go off. There’s a number on the bottom of the screen symbolizing my bank account inflating. Holy shit! I just won 30K, and Jeremy picked me. The camera records my shocked and crazy grin. Praline waves to the at-home viewers.

 

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