Authors: Allison Rushby
Rory formally introduces me to everyone.
"Hi, Valentina, hi, Cooper," I say and they greet me back, as does José, who enters next. Looks like everyone's here. I go over to sit on the other side of Rory, so there's enough room for us all.
"Ugh, I am so over her," a voice calls out from the front of the bus.
Ah, I guess everyone isn't here. I somehow conveniently managed to forget about the least forgettable person of all—Mara.
She storms up the bus now, ending up in the middle of the seating area clutching a purple hairdryer with a huge diffuser attached to the end.
"Melinda is determined to annoy me today. Do this, do that, don't do this, don't do that…" she mutters.
"Sit down, Mara," Noah says, unmoved by her performance.
"It's a long ride."
Something gives me the feeling he's probably the only person on the bus who could have said this without having Mara's head start spinning.
Mara doesn't say anything, but her eyes skim the rest of the group. I see her gaze move from one end of the seats to the other, then double back to take me in again. Uh oh.
"Are you coming on the bus?" She looks at me incredulously.
"I…" I start. Maybe I really should get off, though it's a bit late for that now, unless I want to spend a week in the parking lot waiting for everyone to return. "I like your new haircut," I say, sounding more lame than I ever thought possible.
"She sure is coming on the bus," Rory pipes up beside me, ignoring my hair comment and obviously loving every minute of this.
"Sonja's orders!"
Oh, boy. Something tells me Noah's right
—it's going to be a looong ride.
-
12
-
Just before we set off, the masseuse Sonja had promised the team arrives on the bus.
I get an instant explanation as to why he's worth flying in from Hawaii. Kenan is tall, with the most gorgeous glowing, golden skin I've ever seen and a smile that mesmerizes.
"Hi everyone," he says, completely taking up the hallway on the bus.
"It's good to see you all again. Thanks for remembering me."
"Well, you do have a certain way with your hands," Rory laughs
, and Valentina and Lucia chuckle along with her. Even Mara looks like she agrees with them.
Noah glances over at me, waiting to see if I'll play along with them.
I shrug at him and smile slightly. There's no denying Kenan's gorgeous. Noah rolls his eyes by way of response. "Just for that, none of you girls are going first," he says with his eyes narrowed, but a twist of his mouth.
"You go first, Noah.
We wouldn't want to wear Kenan out for you!" Lucia says.
Noah laughs.
"Fine, then. I will!" He stands up and then…
T
akes off his shirt.
As in, just rips it right off in front of me and there are abs and skin and…I swear my blood stops circulating.
Kenan guides Noah over to the massage table and positions the screen around the bed.
Which is when, sadly, the abs disappear from sight.
When I finally get the use of my blood back, I turn my head to see Rory watching me. "Guess you won't be needing a window seat. You've obviously got all the view you need right here…"
* * *
As it turns out, the trip isn't so very long after all, because I manage about fifteen minutes of team bonding time before I fall asleep on Rory's shoulder. She hustles me into one of the bunks, tucks me in, and the next thing I know…
"Thea?"
"Mmm?" I say, working my name into the dream I'm having, in which I'm on a long red carpet, in line for something. But I can't work out what, and no one else in the line can tell me what it is, either. Weird.
"Thea?"
The person standing in line in front of me turns around now, and I see it's Noah. He takes me out of the line, spins me around and dips me, just like he did on the bus. Then he spins me and dips me again. And again. And again. And it's not sick making. It's like the best theme park ride ever.
"Thea?" the voice calls out for a third time, dragging me out of Noah's arms.
"Thea, it's time to wake up."
"Huh?" I crack open an eyelid.
And there he is, Noah, right in front of me. Except, I'm not dreaming anymore. I sit bolt upright when I realize this, and I hit my head on my TV.
"Oh, man.
Are you okay?" Noah sticks his head further into my bunk. "That looked like it hurt." He scrunches his nose.
"No, no, it's fine." I wave away the pain and try and ignore the throbbing spot on the top of my head.
Act cool, Thea. Act like there isn't an ostrich-sized egg growing out of your scalp.
"Um, what time is it?"
"It's almost three.
You pretty much slept the whole way."
"Oh."
I guess that's no big surprise, considering my late-night antics and out of sync body clock, but a bit pathetic considering how much I'd been looking forward to spending four hours with the
SMD
team.
Across the way, I spot Mara getting out of her bunk and pulling her sneakers on.
She glances up at me. "Nice drool," she says, before going back to her shoes.
My hand flies to my face, checking around my mouth for any sign of dampness.
"She's joking," Noah tells me. "You'll get used to it."
"Right.
Ha." I serve up the fakest laugh ever. Hilarious stuff. Thanks, Mara.
Someone's cell starts ringing.
"Hang on," Noah says, reaching into his pants pocket. "That's me." He sits down on the floor as he pulls his cell from his pocket. "Hello?" There's a pause. "Oh, right. Um, I don't know." He frowns, then looks up, spotting me. "Hang on, I'll get a female opinion on that. You think they should auction me off as a lunch date?" he asks me.
I freeze.
Um, I'm not sure. Yes? No? Would my mom spring for that? Probably not. And if my mom's not going to, well…I wrinkle my nose. I'm so caught up in working out how lunch with Noah could be mine, I practically forget he's in front of me until he speaks again.
"No," Noah says, into the phone.
"Better put me down for something else. You know I'm not the world's best talker. Thanks, bye." He ends the call.
"Um, I didn't mean…" I start, feeling bad.
What if I've made some charity a whole lot less money now?
"No, really. It's better this way.
I wouldn't be great at lunch."
"You sound like you talk just fine to me," I tell him, my heart beating faster by the second.
"But that's just around these guys." Noah's head nods, indicating all the bunks, some of which are occupied.
I nod back.
Because it's all I can do.
"Anyway, we're almost there if you want to get yourself together," Noah says, tapping my bunk before standing up again.
"Okay," I say, watching his legs retreat. "Thanks for letting me know!" Great. If only I could get woken up like this every day instead of the beeping of the alarm on my cell. Wow. Even his tracksuited legs look cute to me. That is a bad sign. I'm diseased. I've got Noahvirus. Every cell in my body has been compromised.
I flop back down onto my pillow and wait for the infection to take over my entire body.
Oh, no. Wait. It already did. Years ago.
"Hey, you, scoot over." A pink pair of tracksuit pants stops next to my bunk now and another, different, head comes down to my lower bunk level. Rory.
I scoot, and she climbs into my bunk, lying beside me, staring up at my blank TV screen.
"Did you get some sleep as well?" I ask her.
"A bit," she says. "Not much. There were the tapes to go through. Oh, and I got a massage. I think I might put Kenan on my permanent staff," Rory jokes. "What do you think?"
I laugh.
"Treat yourself. You deserve it."
We lie in silence for a bit, staring upward.
"Just three days from now, we get two weeks off," Rory whispers eventually. "Seventy-two hours."
"Not that you're counting," I tell her.
"Oh, I'm counting."
I lift myself up onto one elbow so I can see Rory's face.
She remains motionless, staring up at the ceiling. "You can do this," I tell her. "You've done it hundreds of times before. Set yourself on autopilot, and you'll get through it. I'll help you."
Rory's eyes finally slide to meet mine.
"Thanks. Because I really think I'm going to need it. Being on the road with
SMD
? It's a whole different ball game."
* * *
"It's so…flat," I say, staring out the window. I'm sitting on the curved seat, close to the window, my legs folded underneath me. Noah's here as well and Rory and Mara. Lucia and Valentina are resting, and Tobias, Cooper, and José are watching something on TV, I think.
I stick my chin on top of the back of the seat and scan the landscape.
Outside, whichever way you survey the landscape, you can see for miles. The only thing breaking up the view is billboard after billboard studded across the terrain, advertising shows and casinos. "And it looks so dry." I realize they're dumb words as soon as they come out of my mouth, because I know very well that we're in a desert.
"That's because we're in a desert, Einstein," Mara drawls from behind her magazine.
My shoulders sink. "I know that. I was just thinking that it's odd. I mean, all those billboards. So many famous people coming here, to the middle of a desert, to do shows. And then everyone else traveling here, to the middle of a desert, to see those shows. Where else in the world does anyone do that?"
"Dubai," Mara says, not even looking up this time.
"We've done plenty of shows there."
My shoulders sink further.
Maybe I should stop opening my mouth before my whole body drops through the bottom of the bus and lands unceremoniously on Interstate 15. I don't belong here. I don't belong in their world, as my mom reminds me pretty much every single day of my existence.
"I know what you mean, Thea," Noah says, obviously trying to make me feel better.
"And we've done two shows there, Mara, not 'plenty.' Got to say, it's pretty amazing. Especially Ski Dubai. That place is like nothing you've ever seen. Skiing in the desert. Now that's weird."
I give him a grateful smile.
"I've heard about that place."
"Skiing sounds good.
Race you there!" Rory says, and makes to get up. As if we're suddenly going to stop the bus in the middle of nowhere, get out, grab our bags, and somehow make our way to Ski Dubai.
I glare at her
, and she sits back down again with a sigh.
"So, you've never been to Vegas before?" Noah asks me.
I shake my head. "Nope."
"I'll have to give you a tour. Show you all the sights."
"Sounds great!" Only a five-year-old kid at Disneyland could act more enthusiastic than me right now.
"So, why no Vegas? I would have thought you'd have been there by now.
I mean, Rory's told me how much you guys travel."
I think about this for a second.
"My mom's not a Vegas kind of person, I guess." It's more like my mom's an "avoiding her homeland and extended family at all costs" person, but I know I'm not allowed to say unpatriotic, un-Hartley-like things like that, so I decide to go for something people will believe.
Mara snorts at my words
, and everyone looks at her.
Noah groans.
"Don't start, Mara."
"She's not a fan," Rory tells me.
I frown, not understanding. "Of Mom's?"
"Of polite conversation."
Rory's eyebrows shoot up.
"Come on, already," Noah says.
"You," he points at Mara, "quit being a pain. And you," he points at Rory, "calm down."
Mara laughs at this.
"Yes, you don't want to lose your cool, Rory."
Rory gives Mara the stink-eye.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd like nothing more than for me to lose my cool and do something stupid so you can take my job."
"Sounds good to me," Mara replies.
With this, Noah stretches out one of his long legs and kicks her ankle.
"Ow." She glares at him.
"Sorry about that. Just stretching," he says.
* * *
"We couldn't get a villa," Mom tells me as the elevator makes it way upward. The
SMD
bus and team had been swiftly whisked away through a back entrance as soon as we arrived at the Bellagio. Uncle Erik and Allie had stayed with Rory while Mom and I were handed over to some kind of a guest services coordinator who Mom had taken aside, politely explaining how things were going to work. Her spiel, which I'd heard a million times before, went something like this: no calls, no gifts, no complimentary anything, no special attention, no access from other stars, and when in doubt, go through her staff. I'm sure they knew she was serious, too. Mom had a reputation for being serious. Not in a "don't mess with me" way, but in a businesslike "be good to me, and I'll come back and I'll tell my friends to come too" kind of way.
Having laid down the law, she ditched the guest services coordinator, saying she was fine with her own bag and finding her way to our suite.
"They said they were extremely sorry and that they'd move somebody and that, of course, there would be no charge, but I told them not to be ridiculous. Anyway, we've got two Grand Lakeview Suites—one for us and one for Anna and Deb as well—they'll be down the hall."
"We'll probably survive," I tell Mom.
"Without a villa, I mean."
"That's what I said.
They were mortified."
Seriously, get a grip.
As if you'd evict someone from their villa! Still, considering their reaction, I'm sure there are plenty of stars who wouldn't bat an eyelash at someone doing this for them.
We make our way to our assigned room
, and just as Mom is zapping the door with her card, a staff member exits the elevator carrying a huge bunch of yellow roses, my mom's favorite. "Ms. Hartley?" the uniformed guy says as he approaches us.
Mom's face tightens.
"I told the guest services coordinator not five minutes ago that I—"
To save us time and energy, I take a step or two around to the other side of the staff member. I locate the card, pluck it from the flowers and scan it.
"It's from Dad," I tell her, passing her the card between two of my fingers.
"Oh." Her expression changes instantly.
"Oh, well. That's different. Thank you."