Boy Band

by Jacqueline Smith

  And for some reason, I laugh. Maybe it’s because when you’ve just been kissed by the guy you love, everything is so perfect that you can’t help but laugh. Or maybe I do think he’s that funny, even though, let’s be honest, he’s really not. I don’t think he was even trying. Either way, I’m laughing. And then he starts laughing.

  “Why - Why is this so funny?” he asks.

  “I don’t know,” I somehow manage to say between laughs. “It’s ridiculous.”

  “It is. But haven’t we always been kind of ridiculous?”

  “Yeah, kind of,” I acknowledge. Then I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again.

  “No, seriously,” he asks after the kiss ends. “Did you plan this?”

  “I’m flattered that you think I’m that crafty,” I reply. “I had no idea this was going to happen. I mean, yeah, I may have thought about before... you know, from time to time.” And now I’m blushing. Hard.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Sam asks.

  “Because I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

  “Mel.” He takes both of my hands in his. “I’ve never known how to feel about you. Or I guess I’ve never known how you wanted me to feel.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I was in love with you all throughout high school.”

  “You - I - What?” Oh, so eloquent. “Why didn’t you ever ask me out?”

  He shrugs. “One day I was waiting for you at your locker, and I overheard you and a few other girls talking. You were insisting that you and I were just friends, no romantic feelings whatsoever.”

  I think I know what day he’s talking about. It was right around Homecoming our junior year and my friends were all convinced that Sam and I were dating and that we’d be going together. I knew that if I let my friends know I liked him then one of them would go running off to Sam, telling him to ask me to the dance, so I swore up and down that our relationship was strictly platonic. I remember that day specifically because it was the same day he asked Cameron Griffith out.

  “I had no idea you heard that,” I tell him.

  “I guess you’re not the only one who eavesdrops,” he says with a nudge and a grin. “Anyway, I figured I’d rather have you as a friend than nothing at all, so I moved on. Or I tried to.” He looks me in the eye. “You’re kind of hard to get over, Mel.”

  By now, my heart is fluttering so quickly that I’m certain I’ll faint. I think about sticking my head between my knees, but I can’t think of anything that could possibly be less romantic after the guy of my dreams tells me that he’s in love with me.

  “I can’t believe I was so stupid,” I mutter.

  “It was high school. We were all stupid. Besides, I did the same thing the other night when I told Courtney and Tara that there was someone else.”

  “You mean there isn’t?” I ask.

  “You still thought there was?” he laughs.

  Oh, right. Maybe not.

  “Well, you sounded very adamant,” I tell him.

  “That’s because I didn’t want Tara pulling that same stunt with you and me that she did with you and Oliver.”

  “What?”

  Sam sighs, and for the first time since the kiss, he lets me go. Then, he meanders back to the bed and sits down, running a hand through his hair. I follow quietly and sit down next to him.

  “I knew that if either Tara or Courtney thought, even for a second, that there was something going on between us, that would be it. They’d spread it around on Twitter and Facebook and every other site that we were dating, or worse, that I’d stolen you from Oliver, just like I stole Chloe from Josh. And I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

  “You were trying to protect me.” It all makes sense.

  “In a really weird, twisted way, yeah,” he says, offering up a wry half-smile.

  “So wait, why were you so happy when everyone thought I was dating Oliver?”

  “I guess I wasn’t happy so much as, well, a little encouraged,” he explained. “I thought that since everyone seemed okay with you dating Oliver, then maybe they’d be okay with you dating me. I thought, maybe since you’re a girl that the fans already know and love, it wouldn’t be that big a deal. But now...”

  “Now what?”

  “Now I’m afraid that even though people like you, your reputation is still going to be compromised if we...” He trails off again.

  “If we...?”

  “You know.” And suddenly, just like that, he’s bashful. “If we were together.”

  “You mean if I was your girlfriend?” I ask, feeling the color gathering in my cheeks as well. With an impish gleam in his eye, he leans forward and kisses me swiftly in response. I swear, if we keep this up, we are never going to leave this room.

  Not that that would be a bad thing.

  Once I’m able to form a coherent thought, I tell him, “Sam, I meant what I said earlier. I don’t care what anyone thinks or says about me.”

  “Yes, you do. And I do, too. To put you through even a fraction of what Chloe went through in the last few days... I don’t think I could live with myself.”

  “And I love you for that,” I say. “But it doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t matter what anyone says or thinks or does. Yeah, it will probably be hard some of the time, and yeah, words and rumors can be just as hurtful as sticks and stones, but all of that is irrelevant. Because in the end, I know I’m always going to choose you. If you want me to.”

  Again, he reaches out, brushes my hair back behind my ears, and looks me in the eye.

  “I’ve always wanted you to, Mel,” he murmurs.

  And again, he kisses me.

  ⋯

  Kissing Sam is addictive. I mean, I kind of knew it would be. But I didn’t expect it to feel so natural, like we were designed for each other. I also didn’t anticipate how easy it would be for us to transition from Friends to More-Than-Friends. Maybe because we’ve both secretly been there all along.

  “You know,” he says in between kisses, “the others are probably wondering where we are.”

  The others? What others? We have others?

  Oh, right. Our friends. Joni and Josh and all them. They exist too.

  But I bet they don’t kiss like this.

  “Do you want to head back?” I ask him.

  “No,” he replies, kissing me beneath my ear. “But I also really don’t want them to come looking for us.”

  “True,” I acknowledge. “So what do we tell them?”

  “What do you think?”

  Why is he asking me? I can barely string two words together, let alone make any sort of critical decisions regarding our relationship and how to move forward with it.

  “I’m kind of drawing a blank on this one,” I admit to him, running a few fingers through his thick, dark blond locks.

  “So am I,” he replies.

  “I mean... I guess we don’t have to tell them anything,” I say. “They know that we have a weird relationship anyway. They’re constantly reminding us of it.”

  “I think they kind of know that I like you,” Sam confesses.

  “I was convinced they knew thatIlikeyou.”

  “Maybe they all knew before we did.”

  “If we don’t tell them we’ve made it official, or whatever this is, then it might be easier to keep a low profile with the fans and the media,” I ponder out loud.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I just want you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” I tell him. “But I do know that all the rumors get to you.”

  “It’s not about me. I can take care of myself. It’s about you.”

  “I know. So maybe, just for now, it would be easier if we didn’t tell anyone. That way, we can go on tour and not have a million eyes and cameras and questions following us everywhere we go. We can just enjoy the tour.”

  “And make out backstage,” he grins and presses his lips to my cheek. “You know, I’ve always wanted to do that.”

>   “What? Make out backstage?”

  “Yeah. Isn’t that what all the greats do?”

  “I have no idea,” I laugh. Then I pull him back into another kiss.

  CHAPTER 21

  “And I love that look in your eyes

  When you tell me that you love me

  And that smile on your lips

  When you say that I’m the only one

  Now it’s you and me girl

  It’s you and me forever

  And I’m never gonna let you go...”

  Song: “Forever”

  Artist: The Kind of September

  From the Album:Meet Me on the Midway

  Here’s the thing about being in a relationship with the guy you’ve been in love with for practically your entire life. It’s really hard to keep it a secret. Even if you don’t come out and say it, you suddenly give off this ridiculously happy glow that your friends that really, really know you couldn’t miss even if they tried. I’m pretty sure even a complete stranger could count the stars in my eyes.

  It was probably the singing that gave me away. Unlike Sam, who likes to sing and radiates this almost insane sense of joy and life on a regular basis, I’m not one to hum or whistle or anything of the sort. But in the days following my evening with Sam, I can’t stop singing. Joni finally confronts me about it while the guys are preparing for their final interview on a talk show that will air later tonight.

  “Okay, what is going on with you?” she demands.

  “What do you mean?” That sounded so false. Hopefully she won’t notice.

  “I mean you can’t stop smiling. You’re like a puppy with a new squeaky toy.”

  “That’s an interesting simile,” I remark.

  “You know what I mean. Something is going on. So spill.”

  “Well, I found out that I passed my exams.”

  “Oh please, you’ve never caredthat much about schoolwork.” She’s got me there.

  “I guess I’m just really happy for the guys,” I tell her.

  And why wouldn’t I be? We just found out that their album shot to the number one spot in the charts in almost record time, not to mention they released the “Meet Me on the Midway” video last night at midnight. Sam and I spent the first part of the evening with the rest of the group, but then, claiming exhaustion, we excused ourselves and snuck back to his room for a more private celebration.

  It was probably one of the best nights of my life. These past few nights with Sam haveall been the best nights of my life. And I imagine they’re only going to get better once we’re back home.

  Oh! That’s another reason to be happy! We’re going home today.

  “I’m also super excited about having some time off,” I add, hoping I don’t sound like I’m trying too hard.

  “Oh God, me too,” Joni sighs. “One last interview for the guys and then we are out of here. I swear to you, I’m going to sleep for like, two days.”

  “I’m going to sleep for like, two weeks,” I say. Except for when I’m making out with Sam. Or eating. I’ll definitely wake up for food. Other than that, there will be a lot of relaxing going on this holiday season.

  Alas, we’ve still got a few more hours to go before that blessed flight home to San Francisco.

  About half an hour before they’re scheduled to go on, Sam emerges from the dressing room, nonchalantly takes my hand, and leads me to an empty stairwell inside the studio.

  “Hi.” He smiles at me.

  “Hi,” I respond, taking his shirt in my hands and pulling him closer to me. “Don’t you look handsome.” He does, too. His hair is parted off to the side and styled to perfection and he’s wearing dark jeans and a blue button-down shirt.

  “Oh, stop.” He pretends to be embarrassed. Then he says, “Okay, you can keep going.”

  I laugh and kiss him. I’m not sure if you’ve ever kissed a guy in a place you’re really not supposed to be, but let me tell you, it is exhilarating. Sam must feel it too, because he wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me right up off the ground. I’m glad my mouth is preoccupied, otherwise I probably would have shrieked and ruined the whole moment. And possibly our whole secret relationship as well.

  “I can’t wait to get home,” he murmurs. “No rehearsals, no interviews, no god-awful hair and make-up. Just you and me. And maybe a movie night here and there.”

  “How about an evening stroll down by the pier?” I ask.

  “Or a midnight drive across the Golden Gate Bridge?”

  It’s almost too much to look forward to. There’s nothing I can do except wrap my arms back around Sam’s neck and kiss him again.

  One more interview, I tell myself. One more interview and then we all go home. One more interview and then he’s all mine.

  “You know, Joni was asking me why I was so happy earlier,” I tell him, twirling a stray lock of his hair.

  “Oh yeah?” he grins. “What did you tell her?”

  “Something about your album going to number one and your music video being all good and stuff, I don’t really remember.”

  “It’s the little things,” he comments.

  “Exactly.”

  I’m about ready to lean in and kiss him yet again when he asks me, “So uh, do you think Oliver’s ever going to tell her how he feels?”

  And just like that, the spell is broken.

  “You know about that?”

  “We all do. That was another reason I was kind of amused when the world thought Meliver was a thing.”

  “Aw, poor Oliver.”

  “Poor Oliver? I was the one who had to watch the Internet pair up the girl I like with one of my bandmates.”

  “Oh yeah, you were utterly devastated.”

  “I was. On the inside.”

  “Oh, whatever.”

  We make out for about five more minutes before he regretfully has to meet up with the rest of the guys for the interview. I linger in the stairwell for a few additional minutes, just in case someone happened to see him emerge. I wouldn’t want anyone to think we were doing exactly what we were actually doing. Thankfully, we both emerge from the stairwell with our dignity and reputations (or what remains of them anyway) intact.

  ⋯

  “Welcome, to the show gentlemen,” renowned television talk-show host Jack Landon greets the guys once they’ve ambled onstage.

  “Thanks, Jack. It’s great to be here,” Josh smiles.

  “Now, you’ve just released your third album,Meet Me on the Midway, which has soared to the top of the charts in no time flat. How do you celebrate something like that?”

  “Sleep, mostly,” Sam quips. The audience laughs. More than a few girls catcall.

  “I think we’re all looking forward to having some time off,” Jesse says.

  Beside me, someone tries to stifle a whimper. I don’t have to look to know it’s Tara. Who has decided to grace us with her presence. Again.

  Seriously, what is she doing here? I thought she was still in New York. Apparently not.

  “Shh,” Joni shushes her.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just - ” she fans her face, attempting to dry tears I’m not sure are even there. “I’m just going to miss him so much. I can’t believe it will be a whole month before I get to see him again.”

  “Yeah, well, life is hard,” Joni mutters under her breath.

  “Oliver, how about you?” Jack asks. “Are you flying back home to London?”

  “Yeah, actually. My parents live here, but we fly back every year to see my grandparents.”

  “I bet they’re pretty proud of you.”

  “All of our families are,” Oliver says.

  “Now Sam. There have been some interesting reports flying around about your love life lately,” Jack says.

  “Aren’t there always?” Sam asks, eliciting another laugh from the audience. “I can tell you that I’ve yet to hear a rumor that’s true.”

  “So, you’re not seeing Chloe Conley right now? Because I’ve got to tell you,
that girl is gorgeous. I mean, you’d pretty much make the perfect power couple.”

  “Chloe’s a friend. But that’s all,” Sam smiles with that easy grace of his that I’ve secretly always envied. He’s so good at presenting himself. He always knows exactly what do say. I’d kill for that kind of confidence.

  “Is there someone else?” Jack presses.

  “Let’s just say everything is as it should be,” Sam answers.

  “I have no idea what that means,” Jack says.

  “Then you’re on the same page as everyone else,” Cory jokes.

  “Now Cory, you’re still with your lady friend, am I correct?”

  “Yes, you are correct,” Cory grins like a fool. The audience cheers and whistles. It kind of seems like a programmed response by now. But Tara soaks it up anyway.

  “Any romantic plans for the holidays?”

  “Still working on it,” Cory replies. I guess that means he hasn’t given up on the idea of having Tara come stay with them for a few days. Hopefully, Mrs. Foreman is still holding fast.

  “I hear you, I hear you. So what’s next for you guys? After the holidays are over?”

  “The tour,” Josh replies.

  “Yeah, we go into rehearsals early January and then we’re on the road for ten months,” Oliver says.

  “That sounds like a blast,” Jack says.

  “It’s going to be great. The best tour yet,” Sam tells him. By now, the fans are going wild. They are clearly more excited about the tour than Cory and Tara’s love life. Honestly, I really can’t blame them.

  “Well, I wish you guys all the best and congratulations on all your success,” Jack tells them.

  The guys all thank him. And then it’s over.

  It’s time to go home.

  ⋯

  Packing up at the end of the season is always stressful, just because everyone has So. Much. Stuff. It’s the same thing every year. If we’re not scavenging the hotel for every last item in our possession, we’re double and triple checking our luggage to make sure that even if something has disappeared, it isn’t anything important. Then, without fail, someone will remember something they left in the lobby or in the room and then we’ll have to go back to the front desk, retrieve the key, and hike all the way back up to the room for whatever’s been left behind if for no other reason than to ensure it doesn’t end up on eBay.