Love Songs & Other Lies(47)
Logan steps between me and the group. “I think it’s time for all of you to leave.” His arms are spread wide like he’s herding the fans.
“You’re defending her?” The blonde looks at Logan, sounding disgusted. “Look what she’s doing to you. Right in front of your face.”
“Defending her?” Logan keeps pushing them toward the exit. “Paul.” He waves the security guard over. “Show these three out?”
“Wait ’til Logan sees the pictures, you stupid slut!” the blonde yells as Paul firmly leads her toward the door.
“What the hell was that?” Reese says, throwing his arm over my shoulder. “You starting chick fights now? When we’re not even around to enjoy it?”
“I have no idea. It came out of nowhere.” Did I do something to offend them? I had welcomed them, and explained they’d be watching rehearsal before getting autographs. That was it.
Kaley walks toward us, her hands flapping in front of her. Like usual, she’s squinting her brown eyes at me. “Virginia, they’re late for the group waiting outside.”
“What photo was she talking about?” I say to Logan, who has already been distracted by the band sound-checking onstage.
“Virginia?” Kaley groans, hand on her hip.
“I’m sorry, Kaley—” I turn for the door and pull my phone out of my pocket, waving a hand behind me. “You guys just go, I’m going to catch up with you.”
My phone is buzzing in my hand as all of the guys walk across the stage, toward the exit that is undoubtedly surrounded by anxious fans waiting for the autograph session to begin. I take a deep breath as I step onto the bus and swipe my phone to life. I have fifteen notifications, and ten of them are from Cort.
Cort:
WTF!
Seriously?
What happened to keeping your distance?
I don’t see any distance!
I’m going to kill you
It’s my duty as your best friend
Call me
Are you there?
Has your mom seen it?
Call me
Vee:
Hey crazy
Has mom seen what?
My throat tightens just typing the words. Immediately, my fingers fly over the letters of my name. I never thought I’d have to Google myself to find out something about myself.
Cort:
The video, stupid
A link pops up on my screen, and I click it, landing on a celebrity gossip site. A preview box for the “clip of the day” appears, and I press the PLAY button. My heart waterslides down to my stomach as I watch the pieced-together clip of myself. The first few images are just photos; me pulling Tad out onto the dance floor, Logan holding me close and whispering into my ear. And then, a photo of Cam carrying me outside. My head is turned away from the camera, and it almost looks like I’m leaning in to kiss him. But if you look closely, you can clearly see that I’m not. You can see his stupid mouth, free of my stupid mouth.
Then, the photo of Cam and me morphs into crystal clear video. No, no, no. I had hoped it was all a drunken dream. But there I am, pushed up against the stone wall of The Tabernacle. My chest burns thinking about the cold stone up against my hot skin. And then the video stops. This is all wrong!
Vee:
Nothing happened! I pushed him away!
I was drunk
Cort:
I would hope so
Vee:
This looks horrible
No wonder they were calling me a slut
Cort:
Don’t read online comments
they’re jealous
and jerks
Online comments? I pull up my Facebook page and have two hundred new friend requests. Every one of them has included a message letting me know I’m a slut. Or a bitch. I’m not good enough for Logan or Cam. There’s a real lack of creativity among the fans, if you ask me. The other sites are no better. The breath seeps out of me as comment after colorful comment tells Logan how they support him, how sorry they are for him. Yoko Ono seems to be the go-to nickname, which is ridiculous, because I’m pretty sure that’s not even how Yoko Ono allegedly broke up the Beatles. I think she was a weirdo, not a home-wrecker. I’m torn between crying and screaming, because this is absolutely ridiculous. I’m not even dating anyone! And while Cam is clearly the one introducing my back to that wall, everyone seems to pity him, too. Poor Cam; somehow I lured him into my sticky web of sluttiness.
Dammit!
Sitting at the tiny table in the back of the bus, I stare blankly at my computer screen. Do I comment? Ignore it? I could try to explain, but what would I even say at this point? “Logan and I were never together, so who cares if it looks like I hooked up with another guy in the band?” The more I consider the truth of the situation, the more I think maybe I am the horrible person the anonymous trolls are describing. I only flirted with Tad to make Cam jealous. Same with the other guy. As I sit in the booth at the back of the bus, head down on my laptop, my phone chirps and buzzes over and over. An endless stream of new love notes from the band’s adoring fans, no doubt.
I’m still sitting head-down on the table when Cam’s voice enters the kitchen. “You okay?”
After last night, avoiding Cam was today’s mission. Dream on, Virginia. Sometimes I think he’s planted some sort of secret monitoring device on me. Something that registers when I’m in distress, so he can swoop in for the save. “Sure, I’m great,” I say. “Don’t I look great?”