#Kissing (Rock and Romance #1) (27 page)

BOOK: #Kissing (Rock and Romance #1)
4.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

Chapter 74

The Halos make the hotel home for the next few nights, but we're not the kind of houseguests that will be invited back unless Slade or whoever controls the band's finances offers some compensation.

Later, we're in a suite on the upper level and I experiment with which things make the most noise when they break. It turns out a TV through the wall is dull, a ceramic vase is thrilling, wood is delightful when it splinters, but there's nothing quite as satisfying as the sound of glass splintering into hundreds of pieces. I make the project into a kind of concerto, an experiment in sound. By night, Niko nods off before he tries to make a move.

The following night I order fruits and veggies, but when I tell the grocer that I want whatever's rotten I have to correct him when he thinks he's misheard me. We sing karaoke and we throw the produce at our favorites. Mostly Niko. It turns into an epic food fight. Niko licks the remains of a tomato off me, but I shrug him off.

By the third night, I've been drunk for three days and reality is a slippery thing, the ground more like sky beneath my feet; movement is abstract and gelatinous. There's a party in yet another room, this one grander and with a piano. I eye it suspiciously.

Kat appears. I laugh in her face when she approaches, hysterics dropping me to my knees with belly laughter.

"Laugh now, but you're going down."

"No, Kat, if you haven't noticed, I'm already on the floor, and I do a damn decent job of fucking up on my own, thank you very much. I didn't ask for your help."

Her hand hitches onto her hip as though she doesn't know what to say, but then she leans close enough for her perfume to make me cough.

"Here's the plan, the video of you and that needle is going to hit the internet, along with vids of our dear Niko doing the same. And just to sweeten the deal, I'll throw the sex tape up there too, so everyone knows how close you were."

If we were playing chess, she'd say check.

"So you're blackmailing me with a story you concocted?"

She snorts. "No, I'm not blackmailing you. It's happening. Good luck."

I twist the bracelet on my wrist. I don't think luck has anything to do with it.

I push up from the floor and walk over to the piano bench, my thoughts overcrowded. She's going to use the sex tape to show the world Niko and I are a real couple and then the videos of me taking my medicine and him, doing whatever he's been doing with needles. It's going to suggest I'm the reason he's on drugs, shaming us both, and the reason he's been slipping lately—at least that's what Mitty indicated.

My fingers hit the keys and I play out my frustrations, my anger, and my disappointment in myself. It never mattered before how much I upset my mother, but this feeling, letting myself down and in the public eye being the downfall of the beloved Halos, having made the mistake of kissing Niko, it all pours out of me in a violent wall of sound.

When the last note falls silent, every person in the room stares and then there's clapping, but I don't deserve it. I charge over to Niko, drawing him away from the crowd.

"Kat says you've been shooting up."

He shrugs. "Takes the edge off. And you shouldn't talk."

My mouth drops open, anger rolling from my tongue. "No, Niko, it doesn't. Nothing takes the edge off life. That's a lie. The biggest high comes from facing the fucking things that are the hardest. You're saying playing music professionally, living your dream, with all the fans and adoration is hard? Bullshit."

"No, it's hard being without you."

"Me? You only know the version of me I've shown you, a sliver of who I am. I have diabetes. The video Kat took is of me taking my medicine so I don't die. I'm not slowly killing myself with a cocktail of illegal drugs. And the piano—you had no idea I could play like that. I could name loads of other things, but no, I can't share them with you because what we had was a detour. I don't want any of this. I don't want to be drunk and partying all the time. I don't want to live in hotels and on tour busses. I can't keep making myself sick because I forget to take my insulin. And I really don't want to have to keep faking my orgasm. I want a quieter life. I don't want you." I'm so loud I imagine heads turning in my direction.

The shock and dismay written into the lines around Niko's eyes and mouth clash with each other.

Then lower I say, "I’m sorry, Niko. What you need isn't me."

 

Chapter 75

I don't know how to change only why and that's motivation enough. Back in the room I've been sharing with Niko, no sex, just sleeping, thank goodness, I throw my things haphazardly into bags when the door opens.

"I don't understand," he says.

I shake my head. "We were together. You cheated on me. End of fucking story. I'm ending it, now, for real."

"Back to that? I thought you forgave me."

"Not only did you cheat on me with Kat, but with drugs too."

"Is this some kind of holier than thou don't do drugs rant?"

I rip open the top of my purse and pull out a bottle labeled
insulin
, thrusting it at him. "Holier than thou? A life threatening disease? Really?"

He holds his hands up in surrender. "I'll stop if you stay." His British accent sounds ragged and desperate and dishonest.

If humans could spontaneously combust, I would. "You don't get to give me that ultimatum. You shouldn't have started. Kat has scripted a lovely tale of how I got you hooked,
and
she has what's sure to be another internet sensation starring
moi—
the sex tape you couldn't keep private."

His face shifts through several emotions as though he's trying to process all that I said.

"Please, give me another chance."

"Ahh! It's like you're addicted to me, and if you can't have me you go on heroin. It's not going to work. You probably should get help. I'm certainly not what you need."

"Then tell me what I want."

"I don't know, but it's not a girl who lies, who hides parts of herself. None of that makes a real relationship." At the sight of his hunched shoulders at the crush of my words, I soften. "Niko, I'm not who you think I am, and maybe you're not quite sure who you are." I shake my head. "I'm not sure who I am either, but I want to find out." I hoist up my bags and step toward the door. "It was good. Really, good, but that's past tense. And I want better than good."

"I'll get the video back from Kat. I'll do anything."

"She's probably already posted it." I meet his sad, pleading eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

"Back with that guy, what was his name, Jake?" Jealousy flashes across his face.

I shake my head. "Good bye, Niko."

My baggage weighs me down when I emerge onto the street. I don't know where home is anymore. After how stupid I was, it can't be with JQ, meaning I'm homeless. Shame burns from my head to my cheeks, making me achy all over. I plod to the train, not sure where else to go—my mother kicked me out, I left my father's, and I ruined everything JQ and I had.

All I have left is me.

While waiting on the platform, I open my phone to four texts and several calls from JQ. I've ignored him during my Niko binge. Guilt is heavy in my bones.

I press call next to his name.

"Josephine?" he says, relieved.

My voice sounds far away. "Yeah."

"Are you ok?"

"No."

"What's the matter?" Concern enters his voice, and I imagine the lines furrowing his forehead.

"It's a long story." A door closes in the background, and as though that affords us privacy, I dissolve into tears.

"What's going on?" he asks. "Please tell me. Are you safe?"

I want to curl inside myself, to close my eyes, but the squeaking brakes on the trains, the blare of announcements, and the din of hundreds of voices, forces me to face it all. "I don't know what to do."

"Where are you? I'll come get you."

I tell him, and he insists I get on a train to Cranville.

"I'll pick you up. I'll see you tonight."

But it's not the me he'll want to see. I concealed parts of myself from Niko making for a dishonest relationship, and I deceived JQ, doing the same.

I cry until the train rocks me to sleep.

 

 

Chapter 76

I'm shivering when JQ meets me at the train station and wraps me in a hug, but not even his arms thaw the chill inside. I want to cry out
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,
but the words remain trapped inside my aching head.

Half the Quaids are home, but their greeting is a blur. I'm not hungry, only tired, and perpetually hungover. I doze on the couch while we watch a Christmas movie until JQ nudges me toward the stairs. We slip to his room, and I collapse onto his bed.

"Josephine, I'm worried. What's going on? You're not acting like yourself. Have you been taking your insulin?"

"I remembered today." My voice is pulpy.

"Did something happen at your dad's?" He sits next to me on the bed and smooths back my hair.

I shake my head, my eyes dipping closed. His lips press against my forehead, and the last I hear him say is, "Josie, you're hot."

I wake from a distorted dream involving an endless stream of voices repeating my name, calling me back, but from where, I'm not sure. I'm shaking. A washcloth brushes over my head. My limbs are heavy and my tongue thick. Everything beneath my skin pounds and aches.

JQ's face comes into focus, but I can't understand what he's saying only that he's holding tightly to my hand.

Next time I wake up, I can't open my eyes. Mrs. Quaid hums at my bedside, but then the mattress shifts, and there's low conversation from somewhere in the room. I drift again, and it's as if my body heaves, waging a battle with something buried deep inside. I'm not aware of moving, but I ache as though I've tossed and turned with spiraled thoughts; my mother not listening to me until I break under the pressure; Niko not hearing the false pleasure in my moans; and me not being honest.

Then a distant comment returns from memory, erupting from me with fevered force.
You're good, but there's nothing saying you can't be better.

I need to change. I bolt to sitting, tearing at the sweaty clothes.

JQ leans against the footboard of the bed, reading. His expression is
a thing
. Perhaps worry, but his lowered eyes suggest something else.

I wipe sweat from my forehead. "Wow. That sucked." My voice is husky.

"You scared us."

"I guess I was sick."

"Yeah." He exhales and closes his book, handing me a glass of water. "My mom said when you woke up to make sure you drink a lot of water."

Everything that happened in the days before I landed in JQ's childhood bed thunder back to me. "I'm sorry," I say.

He gives me a tight nod. I don't allow myself the delusion that it's because he caught the flu or whatever it was I had. He
knows
.

A whimper escapes from my throat. My phone vibrates from my bag hung on the back of a chair. My hands are shaky as I reach for it. The lock screen tells me it's been two days since I left New York. My stomach plummets at the thought of not having taken my medicine, but I'm still alive. JQ must have seen to it I got the insulin I needed. It's no surprise that I caught the flu; I hadn't been taking care of myself.

There are seventeen missed calls and texts. My social media notifications range in the thousands. I might have broken the internet. Not to mention my insulin app lights up frantically since I haven't been confirming my dosage. There's also an alert for my period. I close my eyes, feeling cluttered and burdened. A message comes through from Niko. It's nearly indecipherable, but says something along the lines of asking for my permission to show a video during their show.
The video
. Apparently, Kat followed through with her promise. Awareness slams me hard. "Fuck."

JQ gets to his feet. "That's an understatement." He disappears to the hall.

I recline back on the bed, my world spinning apart, and I only have myself to blame.

I shower and dress, relieved the entire Quaid family is miraculously downstairs. Perhaps they don't want to catch the flu or come into close contact with stupidity.

My stomach grumbles. I get to my feet and have to steady myself on a chair. I glance out the window at the heaps of snow. Even if I climbed out and landed without breaking anything, I probably wouldn't make it to town without passing out from hunger.

 

Chapter 77

I descend the stairs to the inviting warmth of the Quaid's kitchen. Mandy, Rylee, Emily, and a few friends and relatives bustle around, dip into bowls of corn chowder, and crunch on homemade garlic bread. I remember this particular tradition at their house from Christmas Eve's past. Everyone goes quiet when I enter.

"Merry Christmas Eve," I say dumbly.

Mrs. Quaid places a bowl in my hand and gives me her seat. Her gaze ranges between pity and hope.

"Thank you," I mumble, feeling microscopic. I want to erase myself from this wholesome family portrait, but at the same time, this could have been my home, my family too. I screwed up.

JQ doesn't meet my eyes, telling me everything I need to know. The group goes to the fireplace in the living room with talk of singing Christmas carols.

Mr. Quaid, either sheltered from the shit storm going on in the online world or simply swept into the gaiety of Christmas Eve, asks if I'll play the piano.

"I'm not sure she's up for it. She's only just gotten out of bed." Mrs. Quaid pats my shoulder.

My cheeks burn at the thought of all of them seeing me broadcast in bed with Niko.

I take the bench and play Jingle Bells, Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, and Noel.

The voices chorus gaily, but JQ's lips don't move in song. Either he's the only one who knows about what happened or they've forgiven me more easily than he has. I only watched the video once after Niko recorded it. The date was stamped in the corner, telling anyone, JQ in particular, that it was from before, but that doesn't make up for running away again and the last few days I spent with Niko.

My fingers falter, and I miss a key. I begin again, but lose the tune. I take a deep breath and Mrs. Quaid pats my back. "It's getting late. You should probably get some rest. This is a lot of excitement after what you've been through."

What I put myself through. "Yeah." I meet her eyes, near-replicas of JQ's except the outer ring of her irises are darker. "Thanks." I reach my arms around her, hesitating, but she pulls me in for a hug.

I tuck myself back into JQ's bed and fall asleep. I wake to a sliver of the hall light as the bedroom door opens and closes. JQ rustles in a drawer. I smell peppermint soap.

"I'm sorry." The dark room swallows my voice. I stagger to my feet, feeling my way toward the form outlined by the slim moon. "JQ?"

He circles me and sits on the bed, lowering his head into his hands. "Shit, Josephine." His hair is damp, and heat radiates from him from a recent shower. "I was so worried about you."

I want to ask him what he knows, but the bigger truth devours the small lies I've told. I choke back the slivers of pride I retain. "I left my father's house because there wasn't room for me there. I went to a Halos concert in New York, thinking I had a home with them. I tricked myself into believing there's no difference between being wanted and trying to escape my problems. I slipped back into the life I had with them, along with all the lies I told myself."

JQ doesn't move, so I continue.

"I kissed Niko, just once, but like all the guys I kissed on #Kissing, it was meaningless. That doesn't undo it, but it's the truth. And in the days afterward, it was like I was watching a film of my life, but I felt empty. Only I can give myself meaning. Sorry isn't sufficient, but for now it's all I have to offer you, but if you forgive me, just one more time, I'll give you every reason to trust me, to believe in me...and to love me."

JQ moans like the letters and words are physically painful for him to hear.

"I imagine I hurt you, the videos online—that was old, and I wasn't doing drugs."

"I know that, but Josephine," JQ says, squeezing his eyes shut. "Why?"

"Because I took the easy way instead of the right way even if it's sometimes difficult."

"And what is wrong with having a good life? What was wrong with us?" He gets to his feet.

Tears pierce my eyes. "Nothing, nothing was wrong with us. Something was wrong with me. I didn't mean for the video to mess up our relationship."

"No, you kind of did a good job of that yourself by taking off and not responding to my texts or calls. I was so worried." He shakes his head. "Josephine, I see so much in you, why don't you see it in yourself?"

I startle us both with a sob. My voice is a husky whisper that I hardly recognize. "Because if I believe in myself then I have to follow through and if I follow through and fail—"

"What are you afraid is going to happen?"

My throat constricts as the glaring, painful truth lands, once more, in my mind. "I guess it already did. What I was most afraid of has already happened. I made more than a few mistakes in the last few days. I checked out, lied, drank too much, and didn't take care of myself. I broke things. I broke us. I made my biggest fears come true. But a more important truth is that I love you. I never stopped loving you, not for one minute."

He exhales, cradling the back of his head in his hands, and I see him in profile as he gazes toward the ceiling. "But loving me also means loving yourself. You know that, right?" He edges to the door.

"I'm sorry." I feel like Niko, groveling and undeserving of JQ's affection or attention. "I apologize. It wasn't my intention to hurt you. I was selfish and mixed up. I can blame my mother for steering me throughout high school; I can blame my father for coddling me. I can twist things around and blame you for being too good, but the responsibility lies with me."

"Yeah. I get it, Josephine." The door opens to the bright hall light and the last glimpse I get is of JQ's stooped shoulders.

Tears puddle around my hands as I try to hold myself together. As kind as Mrs. Quaid was, I have to leave, but my body still hasn't recovered from the flu, and I collapse into the comfort of JQ's pillow.

Other books

The Imperialist by Sara Jeannette Duncan
Arcane II by Nathan Shumate (Editor)
Blackout: Stand Your Ground by Weaver, David, Shan
SeductiveTracks by Elizabeth Lapthorne
Time of Death by Robb J. D.
Lethal Lineage by Charlotte Hinger
The Carrot and the Stick by C. P. Vanner
The Forbidden Land by Kate Forsyth
Book of Lost Threads by Tess Evans