Star Struck

by Amber Garza

  As if on cue, my cell vibrates. I glance down at it.

  Writing a song. Thinking about how much your lyrics suck.

  I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing out loud. I quickly type back. Start being a jerk again, and I’ll write another tortured song. When I look back up Mom is staring at me wearing an amused expression. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I was being so obvious.”

  “We sort of suspected it over Thanksgiving. Well, at least Leo did.” She wipes her hands on a rag.

  “He’s pretty perceptive for a seventeen-year-old boy.”

  “He just looks up to you. He always has.”

  I think about Beckett and Quinn, and my heart aches for all he’s lost. Now I know why he’s so sad. My life has been a walk in the park compared to his. Remembering how much he hated my cheery lyrics that first time we wrote together, I totally understand why now. Only now he makes me so happy that I can only write sappy lyrics again. I know, because right before I left to come here we tried to write together again. I grin, thinking about how he teased me endlessly that night. He said that he’s ruined me and I’ll never write a good song again.

  My cell buzzes again. Not gonna happen.

  Which part? You being a jerk, or me writing a tortured song?

  Both.

  Mom leans across the counter toward me. “So tell me all about him. I want to know everything.”

  I squirm uncomfortably on the stool. How much do I really want to tell her? “Well, his name’s Beckett.”

  “I like that. It’s different.”

  Yeah, I should’ve figured that knowing how much my mom likes different names, hence Galileo and Star. A thought strikes me. “Hey, do you remember the band Killjoy?”

  “Of course. I loved them.”

  “His dad is Barry Nash.”

  “Really? Your dad’s gonna flip.”

  I prop my head up with my hand. “Dad liked them too?”

  Mom nods, returning to the stove. “Is Beckett a musician like his dad?”

  “Yeah, he is.” I take a deep breath. “That’s actually how we met. I sort of joined his band.”

  Mom whirls around, the spatula in her hand dripping on the floor. Recovering, she sets it down on the counter and reaches for a dishtowel. “You’re in a band?”

  “It’s not really a big deal. We just practice once a week and play sometimes on the weekends. It doesn’t take away from my studies, I promise.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

  I shrug, grimacing. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

  Mom walks toward me. “Honey, you can tell me anything. You know that.”

  “But it just seemed like you didn’t really want me to pursue music.”

  “I don’t want you to give up your schooling for it, but I don’t mind if you do it as a hobby.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Guilt washes over me for not telling her sooner, but I also feel relief that it’s finally out in the open now. This must’ve been how Beckett felt when he finally shared about Quinn with me. It’s hard to keep a secret trapped inside.

  “What does Beckett play?”

  “Guitar, and he’s our lead singer.” My lips push upward. “He’s so talented, Mom.”

  “It sounds like you really like him.”

  “I do.” I may even be falling in love with him.

  Early Christmas morning, my phone trills. With my eyes closed and my head still pressed to my pillow, I reach out and run my fingertips over my nightstand until they flutter over my phone. Snatching it up, I press it to my temple. “Hello.”

  “Merry Christmas, Star.”

  I open my eyes and sit up in bed. “Merry Christmas, Beckett.”

  “I can’t wait until you come back so I can give you my present.”

  “Does it involve scented candles and roses?” I tease.

  “You have a dirty mind, Star Evans.”

  “It’s your fault.” I tuck an unruly strand of hair behind my ear.

  “It is, huh?”

  “Yeah, if you weren’t so hot I wouldn’t think like this so much.”

  “It is a curse for sure.”

  I shake my head. “So even Christmas isn’t making you more humble, huh?”

  Beckett laughs, and I long to be near him. I want to feel his arms around mine, his lips against mine.

  “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” Beckett says, and I hear the smile in his voice.

  “Shut up.” I giggle.

  “Man, I love your giggle. I think I love it just as much as I love your singing.”

  I feel my cheeks warm. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too, Star. But it’s only a few more days, and then you’ll be back.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Me either.”

  The couple of days after Christmas fly by in a whirlwind of shopping and hanging out with my family. They’ve wanted to know everything about the band and Beckett, and I’ve shared as much as I can. So far they’re not being weird about it which is good. Dad’s a little guarded, but he’s always like that when it comes to me. I guess it’s a dad’s job or something. Beckett and I have talked and texted every day that I’ve been here, and I can’t wait to go home tomorrow and see him in person.

  After dinner I slip into my room and dial his number. Leaning against the wall I hold the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, Star,” Beckett answers.

  “Hey.” I slide down the wall and sit on the carpet. Just hearing Beckett’s voice makes me feel content. “I’m so excited I get to see you tomorrow.”

  “I know,” he says, but his voice lacks its usual fire.

  My stomach twists. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I don’t know. You just sound distant or something.”

  “Oh, I just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Like what? Did something happen?” Agitated, I coil my hair around my finger.

  “Sort of.” He pauses. “We’ll talk about it when you get back.”

  A sense of dread blankets me. I can tell by the tone of his voice that this isn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. “Are we okay, Beckett?”

  “Of course, Star.”

  I want to believe his words, but something isn’t right. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I hang up, wondering if I’ll be writing tortured lyrics again soon.

  30

  Beckett

  “You’re really going through with it, huh?” Tate gives me a curious look from where he sits on the recliner when I hang up with Star.

  “I don’t have a choice, man.” I groan, dropping my cell on the coffee table.

  “You always have a choice.”

  “Not this time.” Just thinking of what I’m about to do causes my insides to churn. I lean my head back on the couch cushions and let a long stream of air push past my lips. Even though I know I’m doing the right thing, it doesn’t make it any easier. I know it’s going to rip my heart out of my chest to do it.

  “I just don’t think you should rush into anything, Beckett. Give it time. Talk it through with Star,” Tate says.

  I shake my head. “It’s too late. I’ve already made my decision.”

  “It’s just that you finally seemed happy for the first time in a long time.”

  “And this will make me happy too.” I force a smile, hoping I’m right.

  “I hope so.” A weary expression cloaks Tate’s face. “How do you think Star will take it?”

  This is the part I don’t want to think about. I had been so looking forward to Star returning to Seattle, but now I’m dreading it. After mulling over Tate’s question for a minute, I answer honestly, “I think Star will take it the same way she takes everything. With grace and understanding.” And it’s going to make me fall for her even harder.

  My stomach is in knots, and my chest is so tight I can barely breathe when I hear the knock on the door, signaling that Star is here. I glance down at her wrapped present sitt
ing on the coffee table. I remember when I bought it and couldn’t wait for her to open it. Now I’m not sure that it’s going to matter at all. This day isn’t going to turn into the heartfelt homecoming I had originally envisioned.

  I barely have time to get the door open before Star is in my arms. I am assaulted with a rush of limbs, hands, lips, and her amazing honeysuckle scent. For one second I contemplate changing my mind. Perhaps being with Star is worth giving up everything for. I wonder if simply this would be enough for me. As her lips collide with mine and her hands massage the back of my head, I find myself fantasizing about what a future with her could be like. It’s tempting, but the minute we part reality crashes over me and I know I can’t afford to think like that.

  “I missed you so much. “ Star walks past me to get inside.

  “Me too.” I close the door, the weight of what I have to say bearing down on my shoulders.

  Star sits on the couch, her gaze landing on the small wrapped box. Her eyebrows lift. “Is this for me?”

  I plop down next to her. “Yes, it is.”

  She picks it up, rolling it in the palm of her hand. “It’s a little too small to be roses and scented candles, huh?”

  “Still can’t get it off your mind, huh?” I grin, even though inside I’m dying. Bantering with her just makes this that much more difficult.

  She nudges me with her elbow and giggles. Then she tears into the wrapping paper with gusto. I watch her flushed face with a growing sense of dread. There’s nothing I want more than to take her in my arms and never let her go. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and the thought of letting that go seems crazy to me. But then again, I don’t believe in fairy tales. Just because I like Star so much now doesn’t mean I always will. And what happens then? If I give up on this opportunity for her, won’t I grow to resent her for it one day? That’s a chance I just can’t take. As Star reaches into the box with a pleased smile spreading across her face, my stomach knots. Why did I allow things to go this far? Why couldn’t I be stronger when it came to her?

  She pulls the silver necklace out, the star dangling from her fingertips. “Oh, Beckett, I love it!”

  “Here, let me help you put it on.” I grab the necklace from her hand.

  Star turns around and pulls her hair away from her neck. It’s a sensual move, and I swallow hard as her neck is exposed. My lips tingle and I want nothing more than to press them against her smooth flesh, but I hold back. Bringing my arms forward, I drape the necklace around her neck and fasten the back.

  Star whirls back around to face me, her hand fluttering over the necklace. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Not as beautiful as you,” I say truthfully.

  Her gaze lowers. “Well, my gift is going to seem stupid now.” She reaches down by her foot and picks up the gift bag she had in her hand when she entered. “I didn’t really know what to get you.”

  “Star.” I place my hand over hers. “I’m sure I’m going to love whatever it is.”

  She takes a deep breath and thrusts the bag into my hand. I’m not used to getting gifts from girls, so it feels weird as I peel away the tissue paper and search for the gift at the bottom. My fingers brush over something that feels like a picture frame. I yank it out, and my heart sinks. It’s a framed picture of Star and I singing together at the festival. We are so close our lips are almost touching. Only a single microphone is in our way. Our eyes are locked, our mouths open. The chemistry between us practically jumps off the picture. It’s a reminder of what I’m giving up, and I feel bile rising in my throat.

  “You hate it, don’t you?” Star’s small voice cuts into my thoughts. “I knew it was stupid.”

  “No.” I grasp her hand. “I don’t hate it, Star. I love it. That’s the problem.”

  “Why is that a problem?” Her eyes betray her fear, and it kills me. It’s like she knows what’s coming, but she wants to avoid it. At this point I do too. I wish I didn’t ever have to have this conversation with her.

  After gently setting the picture down on the coffee table, I face Star. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  She nods, biting her lip. Her legs jitter nervously. I feel like the biggest jerk in the world.

  “While you were at your parents’ house I heard from a talent agent. He saw our set at the festival and loved it.”

  Her eyes widen, and the scared look from earlier starts to dissipate. “Really? That’s awesome.”

  My insides coil into tiny knots at her expression. “Yeah, it is. He offered me an opportunity to go to LA and record a demo with him.”

  Star squeals. “That’s amazing. We get to go to LA?”

  “Not we, Star. Just me.”

  She freezes, cocking her head to the side. “I don’t understand.”

  “He wants to just record me as a solo artist.”

  “Oh.” Star smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, that’s still great, Beckett. I’m so happy for you.”

  “I have to leave in a couple of days.”

  She nods, still forcing that damn smile. “How long will you be gone?”

  I squirm in my seat. “That’s the thing, Star. I don’t think I’m going to come back.”

  The fake smile drops from her face. “What do you mean you’re not coming back? Like ever?”

  “Yeah. It just makes sense for me to stay, Star. There’s nothing really keeping me here.”

  “What about me?” The uncertainty in her voice kills me.

  “Star, you know that I care about you, but we’ve only been dating a short time. This has been my dream my entire life. Can’t you see that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity?”

  “Of course, and I absolutely think you should do it. I just don’t understand why you’re going to stay there.”

  “I live in my brother’s apartment. My parents want nothing to do with me. Everywhere I go, I’m reminded of the sister I lost. This is my opportunity to start my life over, Star. I can make something of myself in LA.” I wish I could make her understand.

  “What does this mean for us, though?” she asks.

  This is the part I didn’t want to get to. Slumping my shoulders, I give a resigned sigh. Star’s eyes lock with mine and she nods slowly. “There is no us anymore, is there, Beckett?”

  I bite my lip. “I didn’t want things to end like this, Star.”

  “Then don’t end it.” She rests her hand on my arm.

  “I just don’t see any other way.” I stroke her fingers gently. “Long distance relationships don’t work.”

  “They can.” Her voice is so full of hope, and it cuts to my heart.

  “Star, you’re only eighteen. I can’t ask you to give up your life for me like that.” I stare into her innocent eyes, knowing that soon another guy will be looking into them like this. The thought makes me feel sick, and again I wonder if I’m making a huge mistake.

  “I guess I just thought I meant more to you than that.” Her lips quiver, and her gaze darts away from me. She drops her hand from my arm. “Clearly I was wrong.”

  “No, don’t do that.” I reach for her. “Please, Star. You have to know that you mean a lot to me.”

  “No, Beckett. If I meant something to you then you wouldn’t be leaving me so easily.” She stands up, moving away from me.

  “Dammit, Star, this isn’t about you. It’s about my career, my life.” I can’t keep the irritation out of my voice no matter how hard I try.

  She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re right. I’m being selfish. You should absolutely take this chance. You deserve it.” Reaching down, she grabs her purse with shaky fingers.

  “Star, please don’t be like this.” I stand, a hard knot forming in my chest. This isn’t how I want to say goodbye to her.

  Her face is hardened, her lips a thin, straight line. “You should be proud of yourself, Beckett. You were so worried about me getting in the way of your dream, but you didn’t need to be.”

  “Star,” I breathe out
the word, and grab her arm. She stiffens beneath my touch. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I know.” Her voice is raw and clipped. “Good luck, Beckett. I really do wish you the best.”

  I squeeze her arm tighter, unable to let go. “Our goodbye can’t be this way, Star. Can I at least get a hug?”

  I sense her hesitation, but she slowly pivots in my direction. Drawing her to me, I circle my arms around her waist. She feels good in my arms, and it breaks my heart to know I have to let her go.

  31

  Star

  I walk around in a daze the entire week after Beckett leaves. It’s like I’m completely numb. The truth is I’m still in shock. The couple of days following our talk, I half expected him to show up at my dorm room and tell me he made a mistake. I totally understand his need to go make a demo album, but I just can’t wrap my brain around the fact that he’s never coming back. I thought we really connected. I thought we had something.

  Going to classes and acting like nothing’s wrong is brutal. All I want to do is curl up in a ball under my covers and never come out. I haven’t heard from Beckett since the night I got back. Sometimes I wonder how he is, and what he’s doing, but then I force myself not to think about it. Once my imagination starts running wild, I picture Beckett doing all sorts of things I don’t want to.

  Walking with clipped strides, I make my way across campus and head toward my class. I keep my head down and my jacket tight around my body. Wind whips into my face, and brushes over my hair. A few strands lift gently from my shoulders and spray over my cheeks. My boots click on the pavement under my feet reminding me of an uptempo drumbeat.

  “Star,” a familiar voice calls.

  I turn around to find Ryker jogging in my direction, a backpack strapped on his back. “Hey, Ryker.” The sick feeling returns to my stomach. Seeing Ryker always reminds me of Beckett, and makes me miss him even more.

  “How are you?” His eyebrows are drawn together in a look of concern.

  I lower my gaze. “Fine.”

  “I still can’t believe he left. I mean, I know he liked you so much.”