“Nah, forget it. He’s not worth the risk.” I shove a wet plate into Paisley’s hands so she can dry it. “Honestly? I think this is the lowest point in my life,” I admit. “I had an egg thrown at me by an angry fangirl. My fake boyfriend broke up with me through his publicist, and I still don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with my life.”
“It’s very Hollywood, though,” she points out.
“What’s my redemptive arc then? When does that start? Or do I need to be humiliated some more?”
She places the dry plate in the cupboard before asking, “Have you really not talked to him at all?”
“Of course not.” I shoot her a bitter look. “You said he blocked me.”
Paisley pauses for a beat. “Ty says he’s miserable.”
I frown. “Ty’s miserable?”
She wipes her hands on a towel and hands it to me. “No. Oakley’s miserable.”
“So? He should be.” I snap the towel in irritation.
“If you’re both miserable, you should do something about it.”
“Like what? Beg him to take me back? Forget it.” I toss the towel on the counter. “You know, this was stupid right from the start. I should’ve just gone to USC this year. Actually, I should sign up for summer courses. Get a head start.”
She slants her head. “And what will you study?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out when I get there.”
Paisley doesn’t answer, but she gives me the look. The one that says she’s so much wiser than I am.
“What?” I say irritably. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Nope.” Her tone is light, but her eyes are serious. “But…Vaughn. Look. It’s perfectly okay for you to not want to go to college right away. It’s okay for you to not know exactly what you want to do with the rest of your life. You shouldn’t be a teacher just because you feel like that’s going to keep Mom and Dad alive in your heart, because they’re always going to be there, no matter what you do. And no matter how broken your heart is, you got something valuable out of it.”
“Money?” Seriously? Is that what she’s talking about? Because money doesn’t seem like such an important thing right now.
“No. You got to see what it looks like when someone’s pursuing something they love. You’re not doing that, and you should.”
“But I don’t know what I love.” I throw my hands up in the air. “That’s the whole problem. Everyone else knows what they want out of life. You love your job. Oak has his music. Kiki’s wanted to be a hairdresser since fourth grade. When Carrie started in mock trial as a junior, it was like her whole path became rock solid. And here I am, a ton of AP classes later, and all I know is what I don’t want to do.”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” I ask in frustration.
“Okay, start there.”
Oak’s exact words. I lower my hands to my sides, an odd sense of defeat washing over me. “That’s what Oakley said,” I confess.
She raises her eyebrows. “Wow. You, the person who pretends all the time that she’s happy and confident, admitted to some celluloid pop star about your insecurities? You must’ve really liked him.”
I nod miserably. “I did. No, I do.” The tears that I’ve been trying to swallow form a big, huge ball in my throat. “Oh, Paise, why’d he stop talking to me?”
“I don’t know.” She takes my hand. “Easy way to find out, though.”
“How?”
“You fly to the next stop on his tour. I think it’s Miami next?”
“He doesn’t want me there,” I whisper.
“Well, too bad for him. At the very least, you’ll get the closure you need.” Paisley shrugs. “I’ve always been a big believer in breaking up with someone in person. Oakley took the coward’s way out, and that’s not doing a lick of good for you. You need to find out why he did what he did, otherwise you’ll never truly get over him.” She offers another shrug. “And maybe when you see him and hear his reasoning, you two might be able to work through it. Either way, you won’t know unless you go.”
“And have him kick me out? No, thanks.”
“So stay here and pretend to be happy. Or for once, lay yourself out there. Take a chance.”
“Like you’re doing with Ty,” I say sarcastically.
“Exactly like I do with Ty.” She whips out her phone and shows me her last text.
I’ll find a new job if that’s what’s keeping us apart.
I rock back on my heels. I’d been so wrapped up in my own personal drama I hadn’t realized that Paisley and Ty’s romance was going somewhere. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow. For the right guy, Vaughn, it’s worth getting hurt. Would you trade all those years with Mom and Dad so you wouldn’t have to have the pain of their loss?”
No, but the emotions are so thick in my throat I can’t answer out loud, so I settle for shaking my head.
“Stop being afraid of life. Go out and let love take you on a journey. Would you rather go to Miami and have Oak kick you out, or wonder what if for the rest of your life?”
“Go to Miami,” I manage to croak.
“Good.” She reaches behind her and presents me with a printout. “Because Ty and I got you a seat on a private plane that leaves in three hours for Miami. You may not know what you want to do with your future, but you know who you want to do it with. Better get packing.”
37
HIM
1doodlebug1 @OakleyFord_stanNo1 this concert is so lit
OakleyFord_stanNo1 @1doodlebug1 I’m dying
@OakleyFord I love you
@OakleyFord your so beautiful
@OakleyFord please like me back. It’s my birthday! Pls!!!!!
@OakleyFord you slay king
There are fifty thousand screaming fans waiting for me, and the last thing I want to do is face them. I just want to lock myself in this green room and never come out. Or maybe take a page out of my mom’s book, throw on a crazy wig and sunglasses and sneak out altogether.
And go where?
The internal question makes me wince. Because really, where would I go? Back to LA? Back to Vaughn, the girl who doesn’t want to be with me?
Nah, I’m better off staying in New York. At least the fans here want to be around me. Hell, they’d sell their firstborns, cut off an arm, maybe both, just to breathe the same air as me.
Funny enough, I’d do all that, too, if it meant breathing the same air as Vaughn.
I miss her.
I miss her sarcastic remarks and her beach bum clothes and her rare but unbelievably contagious laughter. I can barely think about her without feeling like I’ve been sucker punched. Then again, it’s only been four days. Maybe in a week or two the pain won’t be as raw. Maybe the wound will start to heal and then I’ll be able to remember her without falling apart.
A part of me still can’t believe it’s over, though. Or that she broke up with me through Jim.
I couldn’t even understand what I was seeing when my manager slapped the terminated contract in my hand as I sat in the waiting room at the Van Nuys airport. At first I thought it was a joke. I’d just been about to call Vaughn to apologize for our argument, and to give her a head’s up about the “cheating scandal.” Claudia had sent me the links, which I’d laughed off. The Luke thing was old news to me. I didn’t give a shit if he wanted to run his mouth to the press. I figured Vaughn wouldn’t care about it, either.
But I figured wrong. Jim said she’d called him that morning and told him she wanted out. That she was humiliated. That my life was too much for her.
I texted her immediately. She didn’t respond. I called her. She didn’t pick up. And then, after hours of radio silence and about a hundred unanswered messages, she finally texted me back. Every word of that message is still branded in my mind.
I’m sorry, Oak, but I’m done. It’s too much for me.
I told her when we first met that not many women could handle my life. And I told her again after the paps ambushed us at my birthday party. I asked her not to tour with me, because I knew what she would encounter if she came along. The rabid fangirls who want to claw her eyes out. The constant questions from reporters. The bogus rumors and accusations in the tabloids. I didn’t want that for her.