Cross Me Off Your List (4 page)

The pretty boy blonde leaves the room, and
Nat jumps up immediately after.

“Sit!” Noah demands, pointing to the bed.
“You are not going after him. You’re like a creepy, stalkery
fanboy. If you piss him off, you’re not going on tour with us.”

Nat folds his arms over his chest, stares his
brother down, and then promptly stomps toward the door. Noah jumps
up from his lounged position.

“Where the hell are you going?” Noah
asks.

“Not after Benji,” Nat says from the doorway.
“But definitely away from you.”

Nat slams the door for dramatic effect, and
Noah twists his fist into his other hand. His eyes simmer, like a
pine tree on fire, trying to decide if it’ll contain itself for the
forest crew or spread like wildfire.

Fortunately, Noah resumes his place on his
bed, allowing the fiery anger to die. I toss the magazine aside and
wait for answers or explanations or something.

“I’m sorry you had to be here for that,” he
says, shaking his head. “Nat graduated early so he could come on
tour with us. He’s part of our entourage, I guess you could say.
And he’s got a rock solid boner for Benji and doesn’t bother to
hide it.”

Well, obviously. I toy around with the idea
of Benji and Nat, but I don’t know any of these guys well enough to
contemplate their sexual choices. Then again, you don’t have to
know the first thing about Nat to know which way he swings. He
broadcasts it.

But I decide to question it anyway. “Is
Benji…? You know, available?” I ask, leaving it open-ended.

Noah cracks a smile. “He’s single, and I
don’t think he’s interested in my brother, or any other guy for
that matter,” he says. “He’s not allowed to date anyone anyway.
Management’s rule.”

“So the whole boyband persona is true then?”
I ask. I take interest in my chipped nail polish so I won’t have to
actually look at him while I speak. “No girlfriends, staying single
so your fans think they stand a chance? The whole thing?”

“Oh, no,” Noah says. “Just Benji. He’s the
heart-throb, the face of the band, the symbol of all things Saturn.
He has to stay single. The rest of us have a little more wiggle
room.”

Since I’ve apparently been living in the
Earth’s core – because even people under rocks know more about
Spaceships Around Saturn than I do – Noah gives me a crash course.
Tank is head of their security. Axel, Cannon, and Big Tony are the
other SAS bodyguards, each assigned to their own guy. Tank,
however, watches over Benji and Milo because he’s employed by the
Branson family as well as SAS.

The Branson family is another story in
itself. How did I miss the whole “someone shot at the famous
boyband and they had to go into hiding for three weeks” episode
last summer? Maybe it happened while I was perfecting my technique
at making dresses out of Skittles packages. That was my masterpiece
last summer. While I was stitching candy packages, the Saturn guys
were hanging out with the Branson family on a top secret lockdown
that shook the world of the Saturnites – aka their fandom.

“Sounds like some sort of reality TV show,” I
say. “Band is threatened. Band goes into hiding with family who has
teenage daughters. Romance ensues. Someone should write a book
about it.”

“Do not put ideas in Chloe’s head,” he says,
pointing at me. “I mean it. Some things just need to stay on
lockdown.”

“Ohhh, tell me more,” I say. I lean forward,
raise my eyebrows, and attempt seductive eyes. “Are you afraid all
your dirty little lockdown secrets might get leaked? Like what
you’re
really
like before you’ve had your strawberry milk in
the mornings?”

He counters my movements, leaning in toward
me. “Are you trying to provoke me?” he asks.

I can’t believe I’m flirting with a guy in a
BOYBAND. Or that I’m thinking in all caps. Before this morning, he
was just the awesome, hot tattooed guy from the elevator who had
equally hot friends. Now he’s one of the richest people in the
world with a fan base that could easily make my brain explode.
Earth is hard enough. I’m not sure I can do this whole Saturn
thing.

“Well, you know what?” Noah asks. “You can
provoke me tonight. Or you know, give it your best shot. We’re
going to this club, Lights Out, and you’ll get to meet everyone,
except Darby and Tate. You’ll get to see the inside of our world,
realistically.”

“Who is Darby?” I ask. My brain is in my
luggage, wondering what I’ll wear tonight, but I don’t want Noah to
think I’m not interested in what he has to say.

Noah shakes his head. “Someone you won’t get
along with,” he says. “She’s Tate’s girlfriend. She has a YouTube
channel about us, and she’s been a hardcore Saturnite since the
beginning. But she’s more concerned about making her friends in the
fandom happy than anything else, and it causes some problems. None
worth talking about, though. I just avoid her.”

“And she doesn’t want to be seen out with the
band? Sounds to me like she’d be all over that,” I say.

“Oh, she would be,” he says. “But her parents
won’t let her. They’re here too this week, so she and Tate are
going out to dinner with them tonight, thank God.”

My curiosity wants to dig in and ask why in
the hell parents are here for spring break, but I feel like Noah
will just repeat the same things he’s already told me. There is
another way to dig up dirt, though.

“Well, I’m going back to 322 so I can get
ready for tonight,” I say, getting up from his bed. “I figure you
guys run into a lot of photographers, and I don’t want to be
labeled as ‘hot mess’ in any paparazzi pictures that may hit the
internet.”

Noah grabs the spare pillow on the bed and
throws it over his face. I’m sure Nat’s probably used that same
line on him more times than I realize.

“Fine then. Go,” he says, his words muffled.
Then he peeks out from behind the pillow. “Not that you could ever
look like an actual hot mess or anything, but I get it. I live with
Nat. I’ll come to your room around seven, if that’s cool with
you.”

“Perfect,” I say. “See you then.”

Once I’m secure in my hotel room, I flip open
my laptop and immediately search the guys online. I haven’t had a
chance to do my proper internet research since the big reveal. I
honestly didn’t think I’d turn my laptop on even once during this
week. Funny how things turn out.

I begin with Tate’s girlfriend, Darby
McMillon. Noah wasn’t kidding about her YouTube channel. She has
over two million followers on Darby’s Daily Dose of Drama. She
looks like a pastel sundress kind of girl – the kind of girl whose
mom has to approve what she’s wearing before she leaves home and
never wants to break curfew, if she even has one. She looks
wholesome and sweet and maybe a bit young. She’s probably not
someone I’d hang out with, but she doesn’t appear nearly as vicious
as Noah made her sound.

I decide to forgo watching her actual videos
and move on to Googling the Branson family. The amount of fan sites
that appear on the first page of results alone overwhelms me. It’s
like the Kardashian sisters – famous for existing. A boyband
secretly hangs out in your house for a few weeks and BOOM – you’re
famous. Their youngest sister, Emery, seems to be the fan favorite,
and although everyone says Aralie and Chloe are night and day, they
seem to stick together in the Saturn circus.

My better judgment isn’t so sure about this
all of a sudden. I mean, yeah, Noah’s cool and I can’t even deny
that he’s completely hot in that punk rock, tattooed, dreamy guy
kind of way, but scrolling through these pages and seeing the
Branson sisters’ lives flipped upside down right in front of me is
scary. Fandoms aren’t always so welcoming of outsiders, especially
some newbie who didn’t even know Benji and Noah when she saw them.
They might as well feed me to the sharks.

But then this little voice slips in and it’s
definitely not my conscious.
“I hope you don’t mind. I was just
a bit inspired.”
It makes my teeth hurt. Actually, it does a
hell of a lot more than just make my teeth hurt. It feels like bird
talons ripping away at my skin, trying to rip my heart from my
chest, snapping bones to get through my ribcage.

This is one week of my life. And I may fail
at this stupid bucket list. My ‘friends’ may not speak to me from
now until after graduation and beyond. They can have Los Angeles.
For this week, I’m having Saturn.

Normally, I have no problem picking out what
to wear. It’s usually narrowed down to three or four choices, but
tonight, I’d give anything for three or four choices. I can’t even
think straight to figure out what my options are, and that’s after
unpacking the half of my closet I brought with me. I believe in
dressing to impress no matter where you go, but this whole ‘hanging
with famous guys’ thing is over my head.

“Night club, Marisol,” I say. “Dress like
you’re going to a night club. Pretend you’re in LA right now. What
would you wear?”

I skim the ‘short and sexy’ section of my
clothes and mentally tell myself to stop talking to myself…out
loud, anyway. I grab the slinky black dress with a plunging
neckline, add bright pink earrings for a splash of color, and dig
through my shoes until I find heels that are stylish but still
decent for dancing. Then I force myself to get dressed before I can
change my mind, which is always an option.

After a hair and makeup fix, I settle back
onto the bed and dig a little deeper to see who exactly I’m going
to be meeting tonight. I type Chloe Branson’s name into the search
bar, and the autofill suggestion surprises me.
“Chloe Branson
cheating scandal Isaac Torrey”
seems to be a seriously popular
search topic.

I know not to believe what I read on gossip
sites, but the top three articles were published this week. With
Chloe’s angelic reputation (or at least, that’s what I gathered
earlier), I can’t help but click on the top link, which directs me
to a Spaceships Around Saturn gossip page – The Saturn Sleaze.

“Oh my God,” I whisper as the page loads on
my screen. I can’t believe people actually dedicate their time and
energy to this crap. Or worse, that I’m reading it.

Longtime girlfriend of Milo Grayson and
one-half of SAS’s most famous power couple may not be circling
around Saturn much longer! Chloe Branson, one of three sisters made
famous by the band’s lockdown last summer, has never hidden her
love for rock band Sebastian’s Shadow, and even more so, she’s
always vocalized her admiration of lead guitarist Isaac Torrey.

“
They’ve been my favorite band since the
first time I heard them,” Branson said in a post-lockdown
interview. “Their lyrics speak volumes, and no one can touch Isaac
when it comes to chords.”

Saturnites were leery of the Branson sisters
once their relationships went public last summer (Aralie Branson is
in a relationship with Jules Rossi), but over time, the Bransons
won the hearts of most Saturnites across the fandom. Still, a few
remained suspicious of the sisters’ motives, and recently, rumors
sparked again.

When Chloe was absent from
a red carpet event due to her work on album art for
Sebastian’s Shadow’s upcoming album
, fans began to
question her loyalty to SAS and to her relationship with Milo.
While many fans defended Branson and went as far as to say they
don’t blame her for taking a chance to work with her favorite band,
the news of Isaac Torrey’s recent divorce shook even the most
faithful Chloe fans.

A knock on the door makes me jump. My
earrings sling around as I frantically rush to hide Saturn’s
sleaze. I hibernate the laptop and silently curse Noah for arriving
before I could finish the article. I ready myself with a deep
breath before I open the door.

“Damn,” Noah says, looking me up and down.
“For once, I actually hope there are paparazzi outside just so they
can snap you on my arm.”

He steps into the room while I gather my
things and tuck them into a small clutch. I’m definitely ditching
the purse tonight. I slide my room key into the hidden zipper
inside and glance up to see Noah smiling too slyly for my comfort
level.

“What? Is the dress too short?” I ask,
re-examining my outfit.

“No, no, no,” he says, walking toward me.
“I’m just never the guy with the hot date.”

“So you normally go for the hot mess kind of
girls then?” I ask.

He shakes his head and scrunches his nose. “I
haven’t had a date since I got in this band,” he says. “It’s always
Saturn, all the time. And really, I could have a girlfriend if I
wanted one, but with this job, you never know who is here for you
and who is here for the perks.”

I link my arm around his and lead him to the
door. “Just so you know,” I say, pulling 322’s door shut, “I’m here
for the perks.”

Noah laughs and mutters a “yeah right” as we
walk down the hallway. Big Tony stands near the elevator, steadily
glancing around like a creeper. He doesn’t seem very thrilled to be
here. Maybe it’s part of the job description – look angry and
bored, simultaneously, while constantly scoping out the
scenery.

As the elevator drops from the third floor to
the lobby, I find myself a bit nervous. Night life and the city
thing are nothing new to me. I’ve had my fair share of dates and
wild nights, but this is on a whole new level. I’m actually not
sure how to behave.

The elevator door dings, and Big Tony steps
out first. He then signals us to follow. Noah wraps an arm around
my waist and pulls me closer to him. That’s when I get my first
taste of Saturn – someone gasps in the lobby. It’s one of those
excited, breath-stopping sort of gasps. It’s the kind of gasp that
says you’ve just spotted your favorite celebrity.

I cut my eyes across the lobby where I see
two teenage girls, a bit younger than me, pointing our way. One is
wide-eyed, jaw-dropped, and unsure if she wants to smile or scream
or possibly cry. The other stares through me like daggers will spit
from her eyes any moment. So
this
is what it’s like to be
insta-hated by association.