“Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to be there, after all.”
“You didn’t care when I said that to you last week.”
“Well, that was different.”
“I’m staying.”
“You just love making things difficult, don’t you?”
“Look, when you told me to stop touring—I stopped. When you sent me to that stupid anorexia center—I went. Now, you sent me here—and I’m staying for the full seven weeks.”
“You’re pushing your luck, Carter.”
“So are you!” I hung up angrily. I pushed my plate away. That conversation ruined my appetite.
“You’re good at pushing that guy’s buttons,” John observed.
I shrugged. “He’s an ass-clown.”
John laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”
“But, he’s an ass-clown that’s good at his job,” I admitted with the shake of my head.
“So, I’m guessing that performance went viral?”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my forehead.
“At least it was a good one,” he said, eyes sparkling with laughter.
“Oh, fuck off.” I smiled.
***
Chapter 7
I was too afraid to leave my house Friday, but I was able to write two new songs and I called to check up on Becks, who didn’t answer, but instead sent me an apology text. Apparently, she was having a brutal hangover. And after spending all of Friday confined to the area of my bedroom, I was happy for it to be Saturday.
Because Saturday meant I was going to go out with Easton.
After staring at the scale in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, I decided to just check my weight. No big deal, right?
115.
I’m not fat, I’m healthy. I’m not fat, I’m healthy.
I repeated the mantra in my head a couple more times before stepping off the scale, and opting out of eating breakfast.
My stomach rumbled, as I walked into the kitchen to say good morning to everyone. Dad was already gone, working on a Saturday. Mom was in the yard gardening, and as expected, John was sitting at the table with two cups of coffee—waiting for me.
“Here.” He slid a cup across the table to me. “Your mom wanted me to tell you there are waffles in the oven.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” I lied.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m a grown woman.” He opened his mouth to say something, but I continued, “And it’s none of your business.”
He reluctantly nodded. “Where are we going today?”
“Itching to get out of the house, John?” I teased. I’m sure he hated being cooped up as much as I did.
He only shrugged.
“I’m meeting this guy for lunch today.”
“Are you actually gonna eat?” he asked.
I gave him a sharp look.
“Sorry, that was out of line.”
“Forget it, but we gotta be there by one, okay?”
He nodded.
“Hey, you haven’t seen any photographers, have you?”
“Nope, but I also haven’t left the house.”
My phone buzzed on the table, and I silently prayed it wasn’t Devin.
Easton:
Does the human shield have to tag along tonight?
I giggled as I read his text. Then typed out a response.
Aisley:
Afraid so. He’s pretty into watching.
I glanced up at John, and giggled quietly.
“Do I want to know?” he asked.
I shook my head at him and my phone buzzed again.
Easton:
Unless he’s into some kinky shit, he’s gonna want to close his eyes tonight, Carter. ;) I’ll pick you up at 8:30.
A smile crept onto my face and I bit my lip, trying not to laugh again. I didn’t realize how much I missed East, until I saw him again.
How the hell was I going to leave him
again
in seven weeks?
***
John and I were hunkered down in the same corner booth we sat in the first time I came in and saw Easton. Today I was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, complete with aviator sunglasses and a Seattle Mariners ball cap, to disguise myself a little bit. Thankfully, we didn’t see any photographers on the way over here. I wondered if East was working today. I should have asked him earlier, but didn’t even think about it.
“So who’s this guy we’re meeting?” John asked while browsing the menu.
I shrugged. “Just some guy I met.”
“Anyone important?”
“Depends on who you’re talking to, I guess. Everyone’s important to somebody.”
“You sound so wise right now,” he joked.
“Oh, I am. It just took you longer than normal to realize it.” I raised an eyebrow and turned around, hoping to see Brad and Karen.
“You’re full of jokes today, kid.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. Hearing the bell ring on the front door, I turned back a second time and waved to Brad and his daughter. “That’s his daughter. Don’t scare her.”
John chuckled. “I’m not a monster.”
“Just be good.”
“I’m not a dog, either.”
I didn’t have anything witty to say, so I stuck my tongue out at him again, instead.
“Hey, Aisley.”
“Hey, Brad.” I smiled at them, taking off the hat and glasses. “And this must be Karen.”
“Hi.” She smiled shyly and hid behind her dad’s leg.
I stood up, offering them the booth and scooting in beside John.
“Your dad’s been telling me all about you, Karen,” I said.
“He has?” Her eyes bugged out of her head and she looked over at her dad in awe.
“Yep.” I smiled.
“Who’s he?” Karen pointed to John.
“Don’t mind John.” I winked. “He’s just my chaperone.”
“Like on a field trip?”
“Not quite. See Aisley is so popular that sometimes people get too close, and John, here, keeps them from hurting her,” Brad explained.
“Oh. So more like a superhero,” Karen decided. John grinned. Who would have thought that big, burly, boxer John would have such a soft spot for kids? We studied the menu for a few minutes, each deciding what we wanted.
Even though I didn’t want it, I chose a cheeseburger and French fries.
“What can we get started for you?” My head snapped up, hearing his voice.
“Aisley,” Easton said, shocked.
“Hey.”
East looked between us, and gave me a weird look before letting a smile settle on his face.
“Sorry, I’m being rude. Easton, I think you remember Brad from the other night? Meet Brad’s daughter, Karen. Karen, this is my good friend, Easton.”
She stuck her hand out politely, waiting for him to shake it. Easton gave the girl a big lopsided grin, taking her tiny hand in his. “It’s very nice to meet you, Karen. Any friend of Aisley’s, is a friend of mine.”
“She’s
so
cool, huh?” Karen beamed.
I smiled to Brad, and he mouthed ‘thank you’ back.
“Yeah,” Easton replied. “She’s pretty cool.”
After ordering, and getting our food, we talked mostly about Karen and how she was in the second grade—starting in the Fall—and how this boy, Jimmy Tersely, always teased her on the playground last year. And how she hoped he would be nicer next year.
That reminded me of when East and I were second graders. He was relentless, always chasing Becks and me around the playground. That whole year I had a love-hate relationship with him. Some days he was the sweetest little kid on the planet. Other days, he was the biggest bully I knew.
“So what’s it like on TV?” Karen asked, sipping on her chocolate milk.
I giggled. “It’s pretty fun. I love to sing.”
“Me, too. I want to be just like you when I grow up.”
“That’s sweet. I’ll bet you have a beautiful voice.”
Karen blushed. “Yeah, well, Jimmy says I sound like a frog.”
“I’ll bet Jimmy is just jealous.” I winked.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
When we were finished eating and it was time to go, Karen gave me a huge hug. Then, she moved past me and hugged John, too, which made me giggle.
“If it’s okay with your dad, I bet I could get you tickets to the show in Seattle.”
“Oh my gosh!” she squealed so loud that I thought she ruptured my eardrums.
“Karen, shh,” Brad scolded. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“Well, thanks.”
“Does that mean I can go, Dad? Please?”
Brad nodded, and Karen jumped up and down. “Thank you, thank you!”
“You’re welcome, but you should probably thank the girl who’s giving them to you.” He chuckled.
She gave me a toothy grin. “Thanks, Aisley.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you guys around. Be good for your Dad, okay?”
***
I weighed myself again as soon as I got home. It was a stupid, stupid thing to do. I knew that.
115
The scale was taunting me.
I shouldn’t have had a burger at lunch. I should have had the salad, instead. Hell, I should be working out right now, trying to stay in shape for the tour.
Fuckity-fuck.
My mind was starting to wander to that bad place again. The one that got me here. “Grraaahhh,” I yelled at my reflection in the mirror incoherently.
I’m not fat, I’m healthy. I’m not fat, I’m healthy.
Repeating those stupid words made me feel like a fucking lunatic, even if it was just in my head. Splashing some cool water on my face, I told myself to chill out,
just chill.
“Aisley, sweetie?” Mom knocked on the door.
“Yeah?”
“Your dad and I are going out to dinner, want to come with?”
I swung the door open and my mom stared me down as if I were in there puking my guts out. I wasn’t bulimic, for Christ’s sake. “Sorry, Mom. I have plans.”
She gave me the same look she did when I first showed up. The verbal ass-whooping one. “Aisley Marie Carter. I saw that you didn’t eat breakfast this morning! Did you eat lunch? You’re looking too skinny. Get your ass out of the bathroom. You’re coming to dinner. No is not an answer. End of story.”
I sighed. “No.”
“Did you hear what I just said?”
“Yes, Mother, but you worry too much.”
“I worry too much? How do you think I felt getting a call from the hospital, telling me my only daughter was being admitted because she fainted on stage? How do you think I felt the second time, Aisley? After the first time, we should have known it was more than just exhaustion. I’m your Mother, I should have known.” Mom wiped a few tears away. “So don’t tell me I worry too much. It’s my job to worry too much.”
Fuck. “I’m sorry.” I officially felt like the world’s worst daughter. “But I still can’t go to dinner with you and Dad. I have plans with Easton.”
Her head snapped up in surprise. “Easton? Everson?”
“You know any other Easton’s?”
“No. I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you guys still talked.”
“We just started… talking again.”
“That’s great, honey. He was always such a nice boy.”
“Yeah. So, is it okay if I skip dinner with you guys?”
“As long as you’re eating with him.”
“Yes, Mom. I will eat, and I had lunch, too. Ask John.”
“I’m sure you know John’s not allowed to tell me a thing. Have fun with Easton, dear. Tell him to stop by sometime, and I’ll make him some of his favorite brownies.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetie. Be careful.”
***
Wearing a purple sundress, and some cowgirl boots, I felt a little weird dressing up. I wasn’t sure where we were going, so I wasn’t sure what was appropriate.
It was eight-fifteen.
Easton would be here to pick me soon. His butterflies came before he did, but that was no surprise to me. They were good company, fluttering inside me, because they made me think of East.
And East was
all
I wanted to think about tonight.
Not the paparazzi, not leaving in less than seven weeks, and definitely not my weight.
Just East.
“Do you have to come with us tonight?” I looked over at John, who was engrossed in a National Geographic magazine, sitting on the couch.
He snorted. “Do you have to keep pacing like that?”
“Do you have to answer my question with a question?”
John rolled his eyes. “Yes. Don’t ask me stupid questions. No matter what, it’s my job to come with you.”
I huffed. “Are you allowed to tell people stuff about me?” I asked, thinking about what my mom said earlier.
He set the magazine down. “I signed the same type of agreement I passed out to all of your friends the other night, so no. I’m legally bound to keep my mouth shut. Why?”
“No reason.”
He eyed me suspiciously.
“Stop looking at me like that. I was just curious,” I lied.
The doorbell rang, and I had to stop myself from squealing like Karen did earlier.
“Just try to be cool,” John joked, and then standing up, ready to go.
“Shut up! I’m cool as a cucumber.” And that was the lamest thing I had heard in a very long time. I opened the door, revealing East, dressed a little fancier than usual in a button down shirt, and his signature blue jeans. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He smiled back. “You look beautiful tonight, Aisley.”
“Thank you.”
“Ready?”
I nodded, suddenly unable to form a coherent sentence.
He linked his arm through mine and led me to his car. It was the same one he had when I left, a blue Ford Focus. “I see you’ve still got your baby, too,” I joked.
“Oh yeah, me and Becks are old school.” He winked.
I couldn't help it… I swooned.
Hopelessly hopeless for this green-eyed boy.
He opened the door for me, and then turned to John. “Sorry, man, you’ll have to open your own.”
John just grunted, and got in. He must hate this part of the job—being the third wheel on dates.
I turned to East. “Where are we going?”
“I thought we could grab a bite to eat, then there’s this old movie playing in the park.”
“Oh, I already ate,” I lied.