Suddenly I felt like a complete idiot. I’d just paged a freaking rock star to help me fix my dorky teenage love life. Who did I think I was?
“Vivian,” Fisk prompted. “What’s going on?”
“Um, let’s talk over cookies.” He laughed but followed me to the kitchen.
Once we’d settled at the table with snacks, he pointed at me. “Quit stalling. What’s up?”
I took a deep breath. I’d come this far; I couldn’t give up now. “I need you to be my Billy Idol.”
He frowned and stopped chewing. “What?”
“Like in The Wedding Singer,” I rushed on, before I could chicken out. “On the airplane? When Adam Sandler sings to Drew Barrymore. And Billy Idol’s there.”
He blinked at me, waiting.
“But I can’t sing. I’m even worse than Adam Sandler.” I pointed at him. “But you can, obviously.” I took a deep breath. “I want you to sing to Dallas. Oh, and I want you to do it for our town’s talent show as a special guest star. It’s for a good cause…we raise lots of money for the food bank and homeless shelter and…it might help me win back the guy I’m in love with,” I finished, breathless.
Fisk stared at me for a long moment, chewing and swallowing his cookie. He chugged from the soda can, then leaned back in his chair. “Let me see if I understand. You want me to serenade this guy you rejected? His name’s Dallas?” His eyes crinkled like he’d just told me the punch line to a joke.
I nodded, biting my lip. I was out of my Vulcan mind. No way would he do it.
“But,” he continued, “instead of sneaking to his house and serenading outside his window, you want me to perform at the town talent show. Full of a bunch of sorry acts, I bet. Magic tricks, middle schoolers break-dancing, that kind of stuff. Right?”
I shifted in my chair, surprised at how defensive I felt of our town’s show, but before I could say anything Fisk gave me his camera-loving grin. “I’m in, Vivian. Just tell me when.”
No way. No freaking way. I struggled to find my voice. “Really?” I squeaked. “You mean it?”
“Sure, why not? I haven’t performed in months. I could use the practice.” He winked at me. “And I’m a sucker for Romeo and Juliet stuff.”
I finally relaxed enough to laugh. “It’s not as if we come from warring families.”
He shrugged. “Still, you know what I mean.” He ran a hand through his rock star hair. “Have you thought about what song you want?”
I’d thought about it a lot. I’d researched lyrics and bands, and I’d also considered Fisk’s voice, which was amazing and unique. I’d re-watched the America Sings episode when he won, and one of the judges had compared him to Freddie Mercury. That’s when I knew what song it had to be.
“You love Queen, right?” I asked.
He eyes lit up. “Lay it on me, Viv.”
I grinned. “Somebody to Love.”
He returned my grin. “Awesome. I’ll kill that song.”
“I know.”
Then he frowned, making me panic. “What about a band? Back-up singers?”
“Uh,” I stuttered. “Um, I…well, I was going to put you in touch with Drew, the director of the show. Maybe he can figure that out.” Would our school band work? Maybe with the school choir?
“Can he keep my appearance a secret? I can’t have this turn into a circus, Vivian, much as I want to help you. I’ll need to disappear right after the show so no one suspects I’m staying in town.”
Was Drew trustworthy? I had a feeling he’d keep this secret because it would be such a coup to get Fisk to perform. Knowing Drew he’d advertise the secret guest star all over town and get the buzz going. Then he’d get all the credit when Fisk showed up.
I realized this was a way for me to make up to Drew for the stupid list stuff and for lying about Dallas wanting to be in the show. And I didn’t care who got the credit for Fisk performing.
All I wanted was for Dallas to listen to the song and confess that he still loved me, just like Drew Barrymore did with Adam Sandler on the airplane after he sang her that awful song. If he still loved me.
No pressure, Viv, I told myself. You’re just going to announce your feelings in front of the whole freaking town. No pressure at all.
“Let’s do it,” Fisk said. “I’ll come back here tomorrow night at nine o’clock after you close. Bring the talent show director but nobody else, okay?”
I nodded, swallowing nervously. “I don’t know how to thank you, Fisk.”
He tipped the last of the soda into his mouth, then smirked at me. “Let’s wait and see how Romeo reacts to the song before you thank me.”
My shoulders sagged. “Maybe this is a dumb idea. In fact, I know it’s a du—”
“No way,” Fisk interrupted. “You’re not backing out on me, Viv. I’ve even got a Freddie Mercury costume already.” He grinned at me. “Should I wear a fake mustache to complete the look?”
“No.” I laughed. “You can’t deprive the rabid Vilhelm fans of your gorgeous face.”
He winked. “True. Can’t disappoint my fans.” Then he looked serious again. “One thing, Viv. Last time you said this Dallas guy had, uh, moved on from you to someone else.”
I stared at my shoes before peeking up at him. “Yeah, he did for awhile. But now he’s not with anyone.”
Fisk nodded. “Good.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “What else can you tell me about this guy? How well do you know him?”
That surprised me. “Well, we worked together. He’s like a genius coder. He programmed software for the store.” I hesitated. “We have a lot in common.” Way more than I’d been willing to admit. “He always makes me laugh. And he’s one of the sweetest guys I know.”
“Cool.” Fisk nodded. “Anything else?”
I thought about telling him how Dallas had saved me. About his room full of trophies for his Bruce Lee bad-ass-ness. But Fisk didn’t need to know those details. “Why so curious?”
His lips quirked. “If I’m playing Cupid, I want to make sure you two are a good match.”
My face flamed with heat as I remembered the insanely hot kiss. “We’re, um, very compatible.”
Fisk’s grin turned mischievous. “I can see that by your purple face. That’s all I needed to know.”
...
Drew almost lost his composure when the Unabomber took off his sunglasses, but he reined it in at the last second, clearing his throat and tossing his scarf. “Fisk Vilhlem. I’d heard a rumor you might be staying at The Lodge.”
Fisk nodded, after shooting me a wink. “Yep. I want to help out my friend Viv, and I hear you’re the guy who can make it happen.”
Drew stood up straighter. “Of course.”
Fisk glanced at me. “Vivian, do you mind if Drew and I talk in private?”
I blinked in surprise. “Why?”
Fisk crossed his arms. “You need to trust me.” He glanced at Drew. “Also, you’d be bored listening to all the technical details I need to work out with my director.”
Drew looked triumphant. I wanted to smack him, but I let him gloat. I owed him that much.
“Okay.” I shrugged, feeling slightly hurt, but I reminded myself that Fisk was doing me an incredible favor. “I’ll be out front, shelving books or whatever.”
Drew gave me an imperious nod and I rolled my eyes. Fisk winked as I turned to leave the kitchen.
Fisk was right; I had to trust him. So instead of trying to eavesdrop, I sorted books and thought about Dallas, and imagined all the different ways he might react to my song. Worst case scenario, he’d reject me. But since he was Dallas, he’d do it privately so I wouldn’t be publicly humiliated. I could handle that. I could keep it together until I could collapse in the privacy of my own room.
Best case scenario…well, that was easy to imagine, and it sent my hormones into delirium. So I focused on that, enjoying the fantasy while I alphabetized horror novels, hoping my own story wouldn’t have a grisly ending.
“A li
ttle suffering’s good for the soul.”
—Dr. “Bones” McCoy
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Monday, November 17
It was the last week before Thanksgiving break. Everyone was in screw-off mode at school. Main Street glittered with holiday lights and decorations. Mom and I put up our store Christmas tree decorated with miniature book ornaments we’d collected over the years.
At school, Dallas wasn’t ignoring me, but he wasn’t hanging out with me, either. I’d expected more after all that had happened, but he kept a formal, careful distance. He smiled at me in the halls and said hi every day, but that was it. The graffiti had been cleaned off my locker, leaving no trace of him.
During lunch, he hung out with Toff, who’d returned to the surfer’s table. They kept an eye on our table when Jake slunk through the courtyard, but they didn’t join us. Jake had been banished from the surfers’ table; no one knew where he was spending lunch. Rumor had it he was eating in his car.
Jaz and I stood at the bike rack after school. Dallas nodded to us before taking off on his Vespa, but he didn’t stop to talk.
“He’s not completely ignoring you, so that’s a good sign,” Jaz said.
“He’s not going to ignore someone he rescued.” I sighed. “He’s a nice guy.”
“So you think it’s just courtesy kindness? Him talking to you every day?”
I stared at her. “Funny, Jaz.” I hesitated. “I don’t know. I mean, that’s all he does. Says hi, then leaves. It’s like he’s checking me off his to-do list.”
“Tell your mom to break the computer again. Then he’ll have to come to the store.” She grinned as we rode our bikes toward the beach path.
I snorted. “I don’t think so.” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s been my imagination all this time.” I thought of the intensity between us on the beach after the fight. The way he’d looked at me; the way he’d held me. Was it all my crazy imagination?
Well, I’d find out the truth soon enough. The talent show was Saturday. According to the cryptic updates Drew whispered to me in the hallway, Fisk’s performance was going to rock the house. The band and choir practiced at school, not knowing who the guest star was. Then Drew brought recordings of those sessions to The Lodge for Fisk to practice with. I had to admit, it was pretty smart of Drew.
Drew had asked me to help with the advertising. It was the least I could do since he was doing me a favor, not to mention I wanted to generate a big crowd so the shelter would benefit.
I’d bribed Jaz with smoothies to create the flyer. She came up with an amazing sketch of a glowing Shady Cove Main Street, complete with a looming “Special Guest Star” sign that looked just like the famous Hollywood sign in the L.A. hills. I’d posted flyers in all the stores and restaurants, the town visitor’s center, the rec center, and all over our school. All kinds of rumors were flying about the guest star, speculating about everyone from Mick Jagger to Justin Beiber, depending on the age of the person guessing.
Now all I had to do was stand on stage in front of everyone I knew and dedicate the song to the boy I loved.
“Vivian, are you certain this is wh—” Spock’s sternest face loomed in my mind.
“Shut it, Spock,” I said out loud, ignoring Jaz’s surprised expression.
I was done listening to the Vulcan.
“There’s only one kind of woman. You either believe in yourself or you don’t.” —Captain Kirk
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Friday, November 21
I spent Friday night tossing and turning, stressing about the talent show. To distract myself I read old reviews on my blog where I rambled about love and heroes and perfect book boyfriends. I pulled books off my shelves and reread some of my favorite passages. Some made me tingle, some made me cry. I curled up under my blankets, then threw them off, jangling with nervous energy.
I’d hurt too many people, pretending I was the star of the show and others were just minor characters without real feelings. I thought of Henry’s hurt face when I’d turned him down for the Surfer Ball, and Amy, willing to sacrifice her feelings for Toff if I wanted to date him. And Toff, one of my best friends, willing to be my knight in shining armor even when I told him not to be.
Pulling my blanket under my chin and closing my eyes, I finally let myself think of Dallas. I’d hurt him, too, maybe more than anyone. All I wanted was a second chance, but maybe I didn’t deserve it. I was like a one-girl tornado, leaving a pile of rubble in my wake. Maybe I didn’t deserve to be slut-shamed on my locker, but I wasn’t an innocent victim, either. I sat up and grabbed my laptop.
Dear Hunkalicious Followers:
Thank you all for being such loyal fans and followers of my blog. Whenever I read a new book, I can’t wait to share it with you. But it’s time for me to take a break. I’ve learned a few things about myself lately, one of which is I’ve been so busy trying to be the star of my own story, I’ve hurt a lot of people. It’s embarrassing to admit it, but I’m telling you because I know you understand. You’ve read enough stories where the main character is an idiot and you spend half the book screaming at her to stop the crazy.
Well, that’s been me lately. I led some people on, which was totally thoughtless of me. I was so busy thinking about my feelings I didn’t stop to think about theirs. I kind of wish they read this blog so they’d know I am sorry, but I’ll just have to tell them in person.
Some of my friends do read this blog and to them I can only say: You were right. I’m a total idiot. I’m not a Vulcan. I’m just a girl…a stupid, silly girl who tried to be someone she isn’t. I promise I won’t do it again.
Finally, there’s one person who used to read this blog but probably doesn’t anymore. I owe him the biggest apology of all because he offered me his heart and I rejected it, even though I wanted it more than anything. He’s the smartest, funniest, sweetest McNerd I’ve ever met. I wish I’d told him how I felt…how I still feel, but for now I’m just going to pretend he’s reading this and that he’ll forgive me some day.
I don’t know when I’ll resume my reviews. Maybe after the holidays. Maybe not. But meanwhile don’t forget about all the other blogs listed on my sidebar—they’re all awesome and funny. Even though we don’t always agree, they’ll give it to you straight.
Until next time...
I closed my computer feeling as if a huge weight floated away. I still needed to apologize to Henry, but at least this was a start. Lying on my bed, I closed my eyes. I had one more thing to do.
I needed to talk to Mom about Jake. I kept reliving my fear and panic from the night he’d chased me down, and the nightmares hadn’t stopped. I couldn’t let anyone else go through that. I had to report him. Toff and Dallas were witnesses and I knew they’d back me up. Plus, Mom was friends with the sheriff because she was always bugging him with research questions. I was nervous, but I knew it was the right thing to do.
After the talent show, after whatever happened with Dallas, I’d tell Mom. And I knew that even if Dallas rejected my love song apology, he’d still back up my story.
Hiddles wandered into my bedroom and jumped on my bed.
“Whoa, little guy. You lost?” He ignored my sarcasm and curled up next to me, burrowing into my chest, purring loudly. Tentatively, I reached out to pet him. He didn’t flinch or jump off the bed. Instead, he nudged my hand with his head. We lay there together as if we’d always been best buddies, until I finally drifted to sleep.
“Please, Captain. Not in front of the Klingons.”
—Spock
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Saturday, November 22
Drew texted me right after I’d closed up the shop. “Got your dedication ready?”
My pulse pounded in my ears. I’d had it ready for days. “Yes.”
“Meet me backstage before the grand finale.”
“Ok.”
This was it. I had an hour to get ready, which felt like not enough time and way too much time all at once. I f
lipped over the “closed” sign and reached down to pet Hiddles, who was rubbing against my leg. Maybe he knew I needed a little encouragement.
You can do this, Viv. Just pretend you’re in one of your books.
The question was, what type of book? Would I finally get my happy ending or was this going to be an ugly-cry ending?
...
I met Jaz and Amy in the theater lobby, already crowded with excited people. The secret guest star combined with the start of the holiday season had everyone in a bubbly, happy mood.
Jaz narrowed her eyes at me. “What the hell are you wearing?”
I pulled Mom’s trench coat tighter around me. “Never mind.”
She stepped closer. “What’s under that creeper coat, Viv? You’re not going to streak across the stage, are you?”
My face burned. I wasn’t naked, but I might as well be. I was already regretting my outfit, but it was too late now. “No,” I snapped. “No more questions. Let’s go find seats.”
None of my friends knew about my secret plan. No one but Drew and Fisk, an unlikely duo if ever there was one.
We found Toff waiting for us with some of his surfer posse. “Hey, gorgeous chicas. I got us front row seats.”
My anxiety made me irritable. “Why so stoked, Flipper?”
He smirked at me. “Wordworm. It’s vacation. We made it to the league championships. Time to kick it.” He fist-bumped me, grinning, then he leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I got your text. The ninja’s coming. But he has to sit with his family.”
I nodded, unable to speak. I’d called in a favor, asking Toff to make sure Dallas would be there.
“Are you going to maul him after the show or what?” He leered at me, but I couldn’t joke with him. Instead I shrugged, feeling as if I was going to puke. He frowned. “You need to chill, Viv. Just kick back and enjoy the show.”
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