The Kiss Off

by Sarah Billington

  After ten minutes it was getting a bit much, and by fifteen there more people than ever, the crowd expanding out onto the street around the parked cars.

  “Ty,” I said, stepping forward, trying to get in. “Ty!” He looked around at the sound of my voice, stepping on tiptoe to see over the man with the beard and the goth boy, but he couldn’t reach me. He shrugged apologetically and lowered himself off his toes as a pen was thrust in his face, nearly stabbing him in the ear.

  My cell rang. “Hi, it’s me,” he said. I saw him in the middle of the crowd, cradling his cell on his shoulder while signing things and trying to smile at people as he handed them back his signature. Cameras flashed in his face. Good thing he hadn’t taken his sunglasses off. “I think today might be a bust.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “I know.”

  “I’m sorry, you don’t need to be dealing with all this.”

  “It’s fine Ty, it’s not your fault.”

  Some girls standing at the back of the crowd turned their heads to face me. One of them looked me up and down and her eyes lit up with recognition. Oh no.

  “O-M-G, you’re Poppy Douglas, aren’t you?” she said. Her friend’s eyes widened as well. “You’re totally going out with Ty.” A couple more heads turned.

  “Hey!” I heard him yell. “Enough with the grabby hands people, or I walk.”

  “Are you going to be okay?” I asked.

  “Are you two on a date right now? You are so lucky.”

  “So lucky,” her friend nodded at me.

  “Why are you still with him?” Someone else asked. “How did he explain all the girls and make it sound okay?”

  “Hi didn’t-” I stopped myself. I was not explaining my relationship to these strangers. “Ty, I’m sorry, I think I’m gonna go,” I said into my phone.

  “I hear that,” he said. “Oh thank you,” he said with relief, on the other side of the crowd it was parting and I spotted two cops pushing their way through, forcing everyone to take a couple of steps back.

  “I think we’re okay now,” Ty said into his phone, looking at me across the crowd from only feet away. “Are you-hey!” A girl snatched his ball cap from his head and ran away with it, screaming, holding it triumphantly in the air. Ty pushed his hair back from his face and looked after her with annoyance. He slid his sunglasses on top of his head and turned his gaze back to me. Like an automated single being, the crowd shifted their gaze as well. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” he said, then one of the policemen clapped a hand on his shoulder and started speaking. I hated it, I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t deal. My muscles twitched and my feet were determined to just go, get gone, get away from the insanity. This sort of thing didn’t happen here. Some girl had literally stolen the hat off his head.

  “I can’t,” I said, backing away from the crowd. Ty probably wasn’t even listening, he was paying serious attention to whatever the cop was telling him. Ty nodded toward his car and then the policemen, standing on either side of him, ushered Ty toward the car. The fans started crowding in again, waving pieces of paper and little notebooks with more urgency as their chance was slipping away. They snapped more photos that they could show all their friends when they got back to school after the break. As Ty was moved toward the car, he stared me urgently in the eye.

  “Poppy, come on!” With that, I lowered my cell and dashed around the crowd into the street. He wasn’t getting out of this and leaving me here to face the mob and their cameras. Ty pointed me out to one of the cops, and he held out an arm to keep the crowd at bay. Ushering me forward, he slammed the car door after me. I locked it. They tapped the car twice on the hood and with facial expressions that meant business, they turned their backs on us, arms out against the swell of people.

  “Go, just go,” I said. “Go go go.” The ignition caught and he revved the engine just a little too hard. The front of the crowd backed up a little. One of the cops stepped onto the road and halted oncoming traffic, he waved us out of our space and we were gone.

  “I’m so sorry Poppy, I didn’t think it’d be like this, not here.”

  “That is horrible,” I said, leaning against the window. “It was kind of scary, right?”

  “It can be, yeah. Especially at airports.”

  “How do you deal with that all the time?”

  He shook his head. “And that’s just for us, I can’t imagine what it’s like for someone who’s really famous.”

  I sat beside him, judging his expression as the road rolled away behind us. He really didn’t get it. “Ty,” I said. “You are really famous.”

  ***

  Chapter Seventeen

  He was really famous, and that night, I was really famous too. The date had been a bit of a bust as we couldn’t exactly go to my house since my dad and his intimidation tactics were there, and we couldn’t go to his house because some country singer had the studio apartment and his parents were at work, but he couldn’t get in because he’d given them his keys when he moved out. I was feeling a bit skittish at the idea of going to a restaurant or the movies or something so public so we’d driven around for a while and then he’d taken me home. I was still going to the Throwdown show tomorrow though. Mads was coming with me. Vanya couldn’t come because her spring break was being spent on a trip to the shore with extended family.

  Friday morning, I was sitting on the couch eating a bowl of Cheerios, watching the Road Runner meep-meep his way through the desert and Bex sat at my feet tying pink ribbons into Poo Bum’s fur.

  The landline rang and I lifted up cushions, newspapers and finance books hunting down the cordless until I found it stuck down the back of the couch along with two quarters. Score.

  “Hello?”

  “You’re on the TV!” A female voice shrieked with hysteria, her voice distorted as the phone had trouble processing her pitch.

  “Who…Mads? Is that you?”

  “Turn on Channel Four! Do it right now! You’re on Entertain Me right now! I’m fully watching him getting mobbed at Dewberry Strip Mall. And you’re there. And he’s on the phone to you, and-”

  I leaned down to the ground and put my hands between Poo Bum’s front legs, wrenching the remote control from under his paw. I flicked it to Entertain Me and accidently spat a mouthful of cereal onto the back of Bex’s head. Poo Bum leaned over and licked up the stray Cheerios.

  There we were: in slightly shaky camera phone footage, Ty was being herded to the car, holding his hand out to me urgently. I dashed to the car and we both climbed in. The cops looked stern, telling the mob to back the hell up. Girls squealed and talked to each other in high-pitched voices. I was on TV.

  “It appears after some dalliances with other women while on tour in recent weeks, YouTube sensation Poppy Douglas has chosen to forgive the Academy of Lies front man’s womanizing ways. They really are such a cute couple, we hope they can make it last.” Entertain Me was talking about me on national television. Was talking about my love life on national television. I was newsworthy. And apparently a YouTube sensation. They were still the media though, lying about other women and…then I realized Mads was still screaming.

  “Did you hear that? YouTube sensation!” Mads said.

  “Yeah, wow,” I said.

  My stomach gurgled, but I didn’t think it was from hunger. I had an ache and felt pretty uncomfortable all over. So now the world knew I was still with Ty. They were making judgements about if I was trusting or a fool. Great. I didn’t want the world knowing my private business. And I didn’t want the world thinking yet another boyfriend had cheated on me, when it was a complete falsehood. And what was with them embellishing the story like that? One woman, there had been reports he had been ‘dalliancing’ with one woman. Not more than one woman. Not women.

  “This is soooo cool. I can’t wait for tonight. I’m coming over. Let’s get ready together.” And she hung up.

  An hour later, I answered the door in my sweat pants and a tank top, my hai
r in a knotty curly bun on the top of my head, and was nearly blinded when I opened the door to sparkling sequins reflecting sunlight in all directions.

  “Whoa,” I said, squinting and shielding my eyes.

  “Hot, huh?” Mads said. She was wearing a purple sequined halter, black hot pants and black leather boots to her knees. And her favourite little black top hat perched on her head. She was right, she did look hot. And quite theatrical.

  “Dude, we’re going to Throwndown and Academy of Lies,” I said. “Not the Debutante Dolls.”

  Her air of confidence was sucked into space and she bristled with nervous energy. “Is it too much?”

  I ushered her into the house. “Yes, no, well…yes you look awesome, but jeez, could those shorts be any shorter?”

  “Not really,” she laughed, closing the door behind us.

  “Well don’t go expecting me to join you in…” I waved my hand in front of her. “That.”

  “That’s cool, I know it’s not your style. Besides, I want to stand out. I have this whole thing planned,” she said as we headed up to my room. “Everyone in the VIP room is going to know you and I’ll be like ‘yeah I’m friends with the YouTube sensation, she’s totally my BFF,’ and then this totally hot rock god, or maybe like, a movie star will ask if I want to make out and I’ll be all cool and like ‘sure’ and I’ll make sure I take photos and put them up on my Facebook and then Dev’ll be all regretful that he broke up with me, because, you know, he coulda had this.”

  “Are you sure that’s really the way you want to go?” I asked, closing the door behind us. “Aren’t you in love with him?”

  “Correction – was in love. I’m so not in love anymore. Screw him. There are plenty of fish, much hotter, better fish out in the big bad sea. And I’m catching one tonight!” Hmm, maybe she wouldn’t thank me about my blab-all to Dev. “Now.” She threw open my closet doors and turned around to face me. “What are you wearing?”

  It was so weird, rocking up to a sell-out stadium concert with a backstage pass lanyard around my neck. Mads squeezed my hand as we walked in and my stomach fluttered when I caught sight of the Academy of Lies merchandise booth. It was a bigger operation than the folding table in the corner that Jeri and Lana used to man at gigs, and included not only tee shirts and CDs – actual real major record label CDs – and bumper stickers, but note books, pens, guitar picks and posters. The back of the booth was plastered with merchandise, there were six different band posters to choose from and five different tee shirts. It was huge and crazy and exhilarating and off-putting. Girls and guys wandered around wearing their new Academy tee shirts, with my boyfriend’s face plastered across their chest. And Archie’s, Seb’s and Tommy’s.

  “Pops, you have to get one of those,” Mads said, wide eyed, nodding at me.

  “Mmm.”

  “Come on! You practically live in concert and band tees.” She grabbed me by the fading Rolling Stones tee shirt I was wearing to emphasize the fact. I was also wearing Daisy Duke denim shorts and my red tartan kicks. I felt I looked good, but I blended with this crowd. Mads looked good, but she most definitely did not blend. Not that it mattered, really. Wasn’t like we were hanging with the plebes tonight.

  “You want me to look like a fan girl? Come on,” I said. “Let’s go backstage.”

  It was surreal, flashing the lanyards Ty had given me yesterday and being ushered down the stairs and pointed through the, if I’m being honest, the slightly grimy corridor to the dressing rooms and what was usually basketball and ice hockey locker rooms. Tonight, they were filled with stadium and road crew rushing around, nodding at their earpieces. One guy was standing frozen in place, a blank expression on his face, like he’d gone into standby mode, and then he said “the silver one?” and continued to stand there. I exchanged a look with Mads. Then he said “Oh, the Gibson, right. Okay, I’m on it.” and he strode right past us, which was when I first noticed the earpiece and that he wasn’t in fact having a conversation with himself.

  Funny. We made some jokes about how wide the doorway to the ice hockey locker room was, and how insanely high the doorframe to the basketball locker room was (no one could be that tall, could they?) as we walked. When we were approaching the room with the most voices echoing and bouncing off the tiled walls, a man all in black walked out, followed by the boys, carrying their guitars, Seb had his bass and Archie started tapping his drum sticks against the wall and exposed pipes hanging from the ceiling. He was rat-a-tat-tatting on Tommy’s back until Tommy pushed him into a wall. They started walking in the other direction, probably toward the stage. My insides dropped into my toes as I realized Ty hadn’t seen me, and wasn’t going to.

  “Hey, wait!” I called, jogging toward them. The group all turned around, and Ty’s face lit up, everyone’s did.

  “Look who it is!” Tommy said.

  “PoppyLongStocking!” Seb called out. I don’t think he’d ever called me just Poppy, once. I was, and forever would be PoppyLongStocking.

  Archie barrelled toward me, running like a monkey. He put his head down, stuffed it under my armpit and I screamed as he lifted me off the ground and twirled me around. He put me down after a couple of twirls, and gave me a punch to the shoulder.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said.

  “Likewise,” I said, punching him back.

  Ty stepped forward and took both of my hands in his. “I didn’t think you were going to make it,” he said. “Hi Mads,” he smiled at my BFF behind me.

  “Boys,” the man in black said. He motioned impatiently for them to follow him, before holding his ear and staring at the wall. “They’re coming, thirty second delay to delivery.”

  “Walk with us?” Ty said, grabbing my hand. As we started walking, I reached out to Mads and she scampered to catch up, so Ty, Mads and I formed a human chain down the corridor, toward the stage. I glanced into the room they had walked out of as we passed, it was filled with punk rockers and hipsters, with the occasional Debutante doll like Mads. And Throwdown, did I mention Throwdown were in there? Yeah, they were. All five of them. I recognized the drummer straight away from the red bandana tied around his head, his black gelled hair sticking up in all directions. Whoa…and then we were past and on our way.

  As we walked up the steps to the side of the stage and the huge amplifiers, I tingled all over. I was getting nervous and I wasn’t even the one going on stage. The crowd was noisy, talking, joking, the occasional scream. Of course it was noisy, there were forty-freaking-thousand people out there.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  Ty grinned. “I know.” He jumped up and down a couple of times and shook his arms and legs out. While Seb rolled his shoulders, Tommy just stood there and Archie drummed mid-air.

  “Good luck,” Mads said to Seb beside her, giving him a smile and a nudge with her shoulder. He looked like he may have been about to hyperventilate.

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” he said with an unsteady smile.

  “You’re fine, dude. You just went,” Tommy said, clapping a hand reassuringly on his band mate’s shoulder.

  “I did?” Seb said. “Oh yeah, I did. It’s okay. I don’t really need to go. I’m good.”

  Ty peeked out at the crowd for half a second. A couple of girls screamed and there was a chain reaction of screaming.

  “There’s a butt load of people out there,” he said with a big, amazed smile. “I mean I know how big the place is, it was pretty epic during sound check, but the seats were empty then. They’re really not, now.”

  He looked nervous for a moment, then smiled at me, clapped his palms onto both of my cheeks and kissed me.

  “You ready boys?” A man asked. They nodded, cat-called and jumped up and down some more, limbering up.

  They each pushed a pair of earplugs into their ears. Then an announcer’s voice boomed all around us.

  “Ladies and gentlemen welcome to Steriphone stadium, school is now in session, here is the Academy of Liiiiiieeeeeeeesss
s!”

  “Oh my God,” I said, holding my hands to my ears as I was deafened to all noise except for the high pitched screams coming from the stadium. Mads and I exchanged grins as there was a flash of sparks behind the drum kit, the boys jumped into the air in unison and as they landed the song started. The screaming never stopped.

  Mads and I danced on the spot, watching as they ran around the stage, jumping, hurling themselves around, but somehow always back in front of the microphone at the exact moment they needed to sing, it was all timed to perfection, I couldn’t have been prouder of how far they had come.

  Another girl came up to the side of the stage and stood beside us, watching. I smiled at her absent-mindedly, but went back to watching the band. She had long thick platinum blond hair and a hell of a spray tan and I grimaced when I noticed she was wearing an Academy of Lies tee shirt, over her white skinny jeans. A fan hoping to meet the band when they came off stage, I guessed.

  Mads’s eyes widened and she nudged me, then nodded toward the girl. I tried to be casual, not to blatantly stare at the chick, she was standing right next to me after all, and then I realized who it was.

  But Mads beat me to it. “You’re Roxy Washington, aren’t you,” she said. The girl froze for half a second before giving a reluctant smile.

  “You found me out,” she said.

  “You totally deserved Best Kiss,” Mads said, nodding. “That kiss was hot. I’ve watched Party Shenanigans like a thousand times.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “I’m Mads,” Mads said. “I’m here with my best friend, I’m sure you know Poppy,” she said. Like I was that famous. I doubted little Miss Movie Star had any clue who I was.

  “Poppy, yeah,” Roxy Washington said, blinking. Her eyes flit, looking me up and down, sizing me up. It was subtle, but I caught her. “You’re Ty’s uh, you’re Ty’s-”

  “Girlfriend,” I supplied. “Yeah.”