The Kiss Off

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by Sarah Billington


  “That’s so cool. He’s great, isn’t he? Don’t you think he’s great?”

  “Yes,” I said. Yes I think my boyfriend is great. He’s my boyfriend.

  “He’s so great,” Roxy Washington said again, looking back at the stage. An uneasy shiver ran down my spine. What the fuck was this?

  “How do you two know each other?” I asked. He’d said something about sharing studio space but I wanted to hear it from her.

  “Oh you know, we see each other out at clubs, sometimes if I’m having a blast I’ll text him, get him to come down.”

  “Him and the boys, you mean,” I said, motioning to the stage. “The band.”

  She shrugged. “Sure, sometimes. You know, he’s been such a doll, he’s teaching me how to play the guitar, too.”

  “Really.”

  “Yeah, so I can play some tracks live sometimes when I do mall appearances and things. Instead of just being yet another girl wailing into a microphone,” she smirked. “I’ve recorded my own album, did you know? It drops in December, right in time for Christmas. Drops means it’s out in stores, just in case you didn’t-”

  “I know what dropped means,” I said.

  “Oh, okay.”

  I stood there staring at her, my eyes narrowed for a moment. Mads took my hand and squeezed it, digging her fingernails in.

  “So you have an album coming out, that’s pretty cool,” she said.

  Roxy Washington flashed Mads a grin, her teeth shone like neon, there must have been some UV lights somewhere. Had to have been. They could not have been that white.

  “Yeah, December fifth. It’s also going to be available on iTunes and my website. You should totally buy it.” She nodded vigorously. Mads nodded and smiled back. Roxy Washington looked down at her cell and held it up, pointing to it. “I better take this,” she said and dashed down the stairs for some quiet.

  “Wow,” Mads said as we both continued to look at the stairway. “I don’t think I like her at all.”

  “Mmm,” I said.

  “You caught that whole vibe, right?”

  “Yep,” I said.

  “What a bitch.” Before we could continue this conversation, two women ascended the stairs, and one of them had pink hair.

  “Jeri, Lana!” I threw open my arms and we group girly-hugged, jumping up and down.

  “It’s so good to see you, Mads, this is Jeri and Lana, Jeri’s with Tommy and Lana’s Seb’s girlfriend.”

  Mads hugged them both like long-lost friends. Lana shot a dirty look at the metal staircase.

  “That was Roxy just now, wasn’t it?” she said.

  “Yeah,” Mads and I said.

  “You better watch out for her,” Jeri said. “She is all over Ty in a big way.”

  My stomach lurched. “How do you mean?”

  “She’s subtle about it, but trust me.” Lana nodded, with serious eyes.

  I turned back to the stage and watched Ty, the brilliant front man, as he talked to the audience, making them laugh and scream even louder. They loved him, adored him. We all peered out at the crowd, at the handful of rows at the front that we could see, as someone screeched her declaration of love at Ty. Someone jumped up and down toward the front, holding up a banner that stated ‘I wanna have your babies!’. More girls screamed of their love until all that could be heard were girls screaming.

  He laughed, looked around at his boys and took a bow. “Thank you,” he said. “We love you too.”

  “These girls are going insane,” Lana said. “Tell me I wasn’t like that as a teenager, Jeri.”

  “No,” Jeri said. “You were way worse than that.”

  “I hope Throwdown get as big a reception as the Academy, they’ll be pissed if they don’t, right?” Mads said.

  Jeri didn’t look worried. “Oh they will, it’ll be fine,” she said. “Those people out there might love the Academy, but they’re here for Throwdown. I bet it’s going to get even louder.”

  “I think I’ll head downstairs,” I said. I couldn’t deal with louder, I couldn’t deal with just plain loud, right now. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t hear myself think. And I needed to think.

  “The party’s in Throwdown’s dressing room, but if you want some quiet, well, quieter, ours should be empty now,” Lana said as I placed my hand on the stair rail and Mads followed me away from the stage.

  We walked past Throwdown’s dressing room, which had a big, burly security guy with a shaved head standing at the door. He looked scary and stern, but as we walked by, his face lightened into a friendly smile and he nodded at each of us in greeting. There was a small crowd inside, small because it was a small room, and the men of Throwdown were chanting ‘chug chug chug’ as a woman with ginormous fun-bags popping out the front of her tiny navy dress was chugging from a bucket. Yes really, a bucket. It was all very classy.

  “Poppy,” Mads said from behind me. I turned around to see her waiting at a door, motioning for me to come inside.

  “Oh,” I said, noticing the Academy of Lies sign stuck to the door. I’d walked right past it. We entered and closed the door behind us. Boy clothes were strewn across the room and there was a corner with a makeup counter set up and a big mirror with exposed light globes propped on the table, leaning against the wall. Mads wandered over and inspected herself and the make up on the table.

  “It’s all boring colours,” she pouted.

  “That’s because it’s make up for boys,” I said, flopping into the worn suede sofa. I exhaled. “Do you think he’s cheating on me?” I asked. “For real, what do you think, Mads. Because what everyone’s been saying…”

  “Poppy.”

  “I think he is,” I said. Mads opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again. “I think he’s seeing other girls. Probably even Roxy Washington.” And like she had heard or name, or my very thoughts had summoned her to us, Roxy Washington pushed open the door and walked in. She stopped with surprise when she saw us, and then smiled and made her way over to the big glass bowl filled with ice and water bottles, beer and soda cans.

  “You’re not watching the show?” she asked, cracking open a 7-Up. I listened to it fizz, the gas rushing out. It was the only sound in the room. Well, aside from the muffled thud of the drums and undecipherable song lyrics.

  “No, I came to see Ty,” I said. “Not the show.”

  “Oh,” Roxy nodded, taking a swig from the can. “Me too, I’ve seen them play a bunch of times.”

  Why was she telling me this, why was she telling me this? What did she want me to think of that? She’d come to hang out with Ty. Well she couldn’t hang out with him, I was going to be with Ty. Had he invited her too? Or had she just turned up like some celebrity ‘Best Kiss Award’ It Girl stalker?

  I watched as Roxy Washington put her can on the table and fished out a small tub of lip-gloss from her purse.

  “What flavor’s that?” Mads asked, leaning in for a look. Roxy dipped her finger in the tub and then held it up to Mads’s nose.

  “Guava-strawberry,” she said. “I got it as swag at the launch of that new makeup line Delish, it tastes so good. Ty loves it.”

  She stiffened. I stiffened. She wouldn’t look at me. Mads would though. Her eyes widened and she glanced at me in panic before her features returned to normal again, hiding everything.

  “Ty loves it?” I said. “How does Ty know what it tastes like?”

  Roxy pressed her gloss-coated fingertip to her lips, rubbing it back and forth, back and forth. Concentrating harder on that task than was necessary. Much, much harder.

  “Ty doesn’t exactly seem like the type of guy to be trying on your new lip gloss, Rox,” Mads said.

  “Yeah,” Roxy said, screwing the lid back on the tub, then looking carefully at her bag as she opened it and hunted for the perfect spot to put the gloss. Or she was looking for something else in her bag. Or she was stalling. I knew which my money was on.

  “How does Ty know what your lip gloss tastes like, Roxy?”
I asked again.

  Mads stepped up into Roxy’s face. “Yeah, how?” I stood up and walked slowly toward them. Roxy flinched and stepped away. She didn’t realize that she was actually inching closer to the one of us that was more likely to punch her in her trout pout.

  “Answer me!”

  Mads slammed her fist against the table with a bang. Roxy flinched again, her eyes darting back and forth between us.

  “It was just a couple of kisses,” she said. I couldn’t…did she just say? I had nearly prepared myself, like I knew some of it had to be true, but I hadn’t wanted to believe it.

  “You little-”

  “No Mads!”

  Mads was ready to pounce, but I put a hand on her shoulder, distracting her, stopping her from giving the starlet a black eye.

  Sure, I just knew in my gut that they had kissed. Nightclubs, guitar lessons. All that alone time. He had slipped up and he was going to be punished for it. A kiss, sure. But a couple of kisses? He had kissed her a couple of times? I hadn’t expected that. And this girl, this It Girl with so much money, so many friends, so much fame… how many famous boyfriends had she had? She could have anyone. But she decided she wanted my one. She couldn’t go for a single guy, she wanted what she wanted. And then just took it.

  I glared at her, my teeth clenched. Taking a step closer, I could smell her stupid lip-gloss. That Ty liked. As the muffled opening chords of The Kiss Off vibrated around the stadium and the crowd cheered even louder, I formed a fist, pulled my arm back and gave Roxy an uppercut to the nose. She screamed and collapsed onto the floor. Blood droplets spattered onto Ty’s face on her tee shirt.

  Mads gave me a surprised pat on the shoulder. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  “Poppy!” Lana ran into the room and then stopped, surveying the room, Roxy on the floor holding her nose, and me shaking my hand as my scraped knuckles reddened and stung.

  “Poppy,” Lana said again, holding out her cell phone to me. “Tell me this isn’t you.” The cell was open to an internet page. A picture on an internet page. A photograph. Mads peered over my shoulder and gasped before I could turn the screen away from her.

  He’d done it, he’d posted it. I was naked, on the internet.

  ***

  Chapter Eighteen

  I paced the few steps of space in my bedroom, wearing a pair of baby blue sweatpants and slippers but I still had on my Rolling Stones top. I held a pad and a pen, and my guitar lay on my bed beside Mads who was hugging my teddy bear, Mr. Snuggly, and watching me pace.

  “Does anything rhyme with lying, cheating, betrayer?” I said. Mads made a thinking face. I continued. “How about scumbag rot in hell I never want to see you again? Something’s gotta rhyme with that, right?”

  “Maybe you should keep it simple,” Mads suggested, stroking my teddy’s head.

  I couldn’t stop moving, my body felt gross and I thought I might throw up a bunch of times, but nothing had happened. I was naked on the internet. How many people had seen it? How many people were going to see it? It was tagged with all sorts of words, Academy of Lies, Ty, PoppyLongStocking, Poppy, The Kiss Off, sext, slut…I didn’t want to think of the other words. He had gone to a lot of effort to make sure anyone searching for him or me would find my boobs. Little girls who loved the Academy’s music were probably going to find my naked body now. Dirty old men, too. Oh God, dirty old men. It was only a matter of time before it was all over TMZ and Entertain Me. Hopefully I was overestimating my fame.

  “Lying to my face…what rhymes with lying to my face?”

  “Ooh, that’s good. I can work with that,” Mads said. “Let’s see…”

  I pictured all the times he had smiled so wide when he had seen me, given me such tender hugs and the sweetest kisses. He had liked me, he really had, I knew he had. And he showed me just how much he liked me by kissing another girl – a freaking movie star – several times. And exposing my nakedness to the world. My nakedness that wasn’t supposed to even exist anymore. And what else had he and Roxy done aside from kissing, huh? I had some guesses.

  I shook my head. I was so stupid. Why had I sent him that smut? What had made me seriously think it was a good idea? And what had I done to him to make him post it online? Post it everywhere.

  I crossed my arms against my chest. I wanted a shower, I wanted to scrub myself clean, but first I had to respond.

  “You were lying to my face, oh I’ll make you fall from grace,” Mads said. “Or um, you were lying to my face, next time I see you better believe I’ll have mace…no – I’ll punch you in the face. Better believe I’ll punch you in the face.”

  “Yeah, that’s good,” I said.

  Mads blinked at me, and wrinkled her nose. “Really?”

  “Yeah. No – the first one, I’ll make you fall from grace. That’s good.”

  “Oh,” Mads said. “Yeah. It was, wasn’t it.”

  “He’s not getting away with this, Mads,” I said quietly.

  “I know hon, he won’t.”

  And at that moment, my cell phone rang. I looked at the readout, scowled at it and held it up to show Mads. It was him. Guess the show was over and he’d noticed I was missing.

  “Don’t answer it,” Mads said. “Block his number.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You’re right.” I ignored the call and with a few button presses, I would never be hearing from him again. So I did it, and just stared at the screen for a minute. The room was quiet, the phone silent. He was probably trying to call again, but couldn’t. I hoped he was trying to call again. He was probably wondering what was wrong.

  “He probably doesn’t even know what he did,” I said.

  “Well he should. Once he figures you’re pissed at him, then he’ll know he was busted. Both of them. And I bet Little Miss “Ty Loves My Lip Gloss” will tell him what went down.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You’re right.”

  “And besides, if he doesn’t know now, he definitely will tomorrow when he wakes up to your video.”

  “Mmm,” I looked at the computer screen. YouTube was open and waiting. “I’m sorry we had to leave early,” I said. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to, I don’t know, make out with a movie star or something.”

  Mads smirked and stared thoughtfully at my guitar. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not as disappointed as I would have thought I’d be.”

  I nodded as she thought a while longer. Forming opinions, coming to conclusions. “Maybe it turned out to be a good thing.”

  “What did?”

  “This whole drama tonight. Not for you, of course, totally not a good thing for you, but maybe for me…it stopped me making some bad choices, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I absolutely think.”

  “You know what we should do?” Mads said. “We should release the song on iTunes. As a single. Make some money out of your pain. Ty made money out of you.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “The Kiss Off, duh.”

  “Oh yeah. You’re right.”

  “I know. I say he should return the favor. He breaks your heart and betrays your trust? He makes you a millionaire as the pay-off.”

  I grinned. Millionaire was pushing it. Maybe I’d be able to shout pizza sometime. “We’ll have to take this down to the basement, though,” I said. “Mom’ll kill me if I wake them up again.” I grabbed my guitar and Mads took the tripod and camcorder and we snuck down the stairs. I was extra quiet passing Rory’s room because I just knew he’d want to come and watch. He was so annoying.

  The Douglas basement wasn’t as creepy and spider-infested as you’d think. I mean yes, it used to be this big junk heap until last year which was when all the junk was transferred to the attic and Dad spent about a month locked down here doing renovations. He turned it into a chilled out living room with an exposed brick wall and a leather couch in one corner that he picked up in a yard sale, and a poker table on the other side where he and his buddies from college played once
a month or so.

  I flicked on the basement lights (a bunch of halogens that did a billion times better job than the single bulb that used to hang from the ceiling) and closed the door quietly behind me before descending the stairs. I wasn’t actually allowed down here, this was my dad’s man land, his sanctuary, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, would he prefer I woke him up at 3am with some angry chick rock blasting from my amp, or I spent an hour in here?

  We set ourselves up - Mads aimed the camcorder, I plugged Stella into the amp and stood with the exposed brick behind me. I strummed a chord. We were good to go.

  “Okay, you ready?” Mads asked.

  “…Yeah.”

  “Don’t get soft on me, Poppy,” Mads said. “He’s a scumbag.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He is.” My face flushed with embarrassment as I thought about that photo. Mads and I had jumped online the second we got back from the show. It was out there, and there were copies. It was reproducing. There was no getting rid of it.

  “What if my mom and dad see it?” I said. “God, what’ll I do then?”

  “Don’t think about it, Pops,” Mads said quietly. “Try not to think about it. Cross that bridge when you come to it. In the meantime, you’re doing something about it.”

  I nodded. Yeah, I was. What had he been thinking? Had he even thought about what this would do to me? To my family, to my future? That guidance counsellor woman had been so right. I was stupid. But he was an asshole. If I knew one thing at all, it’s that he was not getting away with it.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get back to work.”

  ***

  Mads and I woke up mid-morning to a door slamming and some shouting downstairs. It wasn’t the usual shouting of the Pest and his friends sucking at video games, but my mom and dad shouting. And Poo Bum getting all excited and barking and Dad shouting at him to be quiet. Then Bex started crying and I heard Mom trying to soothe her, and there was a distinct phrase that travelled up to my room. My dad said, “Well I’m not talking to her, you talk to her!” and there was quiet and I filled with dread as footsteps thumped up the stairs. Oh God. I looked over at Mads, sleeping on the floor to see if she was awake. She was definitely awake, propped up on her elbows, watching the closed bedroom door and the approaching footsteps. She gave me a panic-stricken face and slid down into her sleeping bag again and closed her eyes just as there was a loud knock on the door. There was no way we could have slept through that. Which I guess was why they knocked so loudly.

 

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