Starkissed (17 page)

“And she was amazing,” Angelina cuts in. “I’ve always wanted to snap at Michelle like that.”

“Come on,” Ava joins in, jumping up and patting my shoulder. “You just told Colin Wicks you didn’t want him – to his face. After years of being in love with the guy, you walked away. What’s braver than that?”

“Guys come on...”

“It’s true Sydney,” Arianna stands up. “I’ve never really given you enough credit, but it’s true. You’ve got guts. So use them. If you want Grant, you’re going to have put yourself out there.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to be with Grant. That it ruined your reputation or something at school.”

“Well…you’d be surprised how many Grant fans there at Harvard. Besides, I’ve been looking into entertainment law, it’s rather lucrative, and now that I have an in…”

“Arianna shut up,” Ava rolls her eyes. Then she turns to me. “You can do this. Say it. You can do it.”

I feel like I’m in the locker room before a big match having some ridiculous pep talk by a swarm of five coaches. Of course I’ve never actually been in a locker room, being completely useless at all sports. But I think the analogy fits.

I bite my lips between my teeth and stare at Ava. Then I look at all of my sisters, all of them watching me with eyes not filled with hate, jealousy, anger, or envy. Just love. Simple love.
You don’t give any of them enough credit
, a little voice whispers in the back of my mind.

“Maybe,” I whisper.

“Not maybe, yes,” Arianna cuts in. “Now say it. Say you can do it.”

“I can do it.”

“Even if he laughs in your face and rejects you in front of a million people.”

“Arianna!” America cries out.

“What? She’s got to be prepared. I’m not saying that’s what he’ll do...but he could.”

“I can do this,” I breathe in. “I can.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The entire street in front of the theater has been blocked off to make room for the thousands of screaming fans and members of the press. There are posters everywhere with Grant’s face on them and limos are streaming up and down the street. I’m in one of them – the limos, not the posters. My legs are trembling and my hands are sweating. I feel so insignificant in this huge freaking car that Alyssa rented. There’s so much space and I take up so little of it. I wish all of my sisters were here beside me, continuing the pep talk they started at home.

But Alyssa’s the only one here, and she’s not even in the car. She’s back at her apartment. I tried to beg her to come with me, but she kept saying I had to do this on my own. Besides she had to go to work and tell off her boss. Apparently the only reason he gave her time off to fly home was so that she could get me to do the cover story for the June issue. Even though I really didn’t want to, I said I would do it if she needed me to, but she decided it was time to stand up to Marcelle.

I should have taken a cab. They’re far less conspicuous. Every time we drive by the theater, and we’ve done it about four times now –I just can’t bring myself to get out and I tell Will, the driver, to keep going – people look at the tinted windows and try and figure out who’s in here. Alyssa wouldn’t let me take a taxi though. She told me Grant West’s girlfriend had to arrive in style. And the thing is, I need everyone to believe I’m still his girlfriend. Because that’s the only way I’m going to get near him. My ticket to the premiere isn’t enough. Hundreds of people have tickets. What I need is access to the red carpet.

I’ve never felt so nervous in my entire life. I have equal urges to throw up and pass out. I just hope I don’t do both at the same time.

There are so many people out there. I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I want to do this. I mean sure Grant is great and all that, and maybe I’m in love with him, but…there are so many people.

“You can do this,” I whisper the little mantra I’ve been muttering to myself since leaving West Plane this morning.

The limo is circling the block again and we’re so close. I know this time I have to get out. The screams are so loud now. They’re penetrating the sides of the car and reverberating through my body. There’s only one reason for teenage girls to scream that loud. Grant is there. He’s on the carpet, and if I don’t get to him soon, then I’ll lose my chance. He’ll be whisked off to some special seat, surrounded by security and whatever, and I’ll be done for.

We stop. Oh geez this is it. Someone is opening the door for me. God it’s bright outside. I carefully slide across the bench, attempting to keep the skirt of my dress from wadding up or getting caught. I’m not wearing any of the dresses Melody bought. I’m in the one I wore the first night I met Grant, the emerald green affair from JC Penny. It was Caroline’s idea.

She showed up at my house a few hours after school yesterday. Apparently she tried to talk to Liam after last class and he flat out ignored her. She was in tears and I honestly felt terrible. Maybe her obsession with popularity was ridiculous, but maybe I’d been so distracted by Grant and Colin and my own problems that I’d been a bad friend to her lately. She told me to wear the green dress to remind Grant of that first night. All of my sisters agreed.

I climb out of the limo and my feet wobble against the concrete sidewalk. This is it.

There’s so much going on. My eyes leap from here to there and back again. People are swarming. A burly security guard with a list and a headset is looking at me, waiting for my ticket. I hand it over. He points to an entrance off to the side and tries to usher me over there. I shake my head.

“I’m late,” I lie. “I’m supposed to be meeting my boyfriend here. Grant West?”

The guard looks down at me and grunts. “Name?”

“Sydney Kane.”

He carefully scrutinizes my face, then looks down at his clipboard. “You’re not on the list.”

“I was supposed to arrive with him. But traffic was bad. If you just let me by, I can go catch up with him.”

Suspicion creases his brow and I can feel my chance slipping away. But then a woman in a black dress, also wearing a headset, slips over to us.

“Larry, let the girl in,” she snaps. “Don’t you recognize her? Her face has only been everywhere for the past month! She’s Sydney Kane!”

Larry gapes at the woman, but steps aside so that she can unhook the rope in front of me and let me pass. I think I’m going to faint.

There are so many cameras. Flashes are everywhere. They go off so rapidly that my eyesight flutters and all I can see are little blue dots and yellow stars. I push through. The carpet beneath my feet is the color of red licorice, or my cheeks during a particularly embarrassing moment.

I start moving forward. I feel beyond uncomfortable under the gaze of so many people. Their screams are so loud that my ears start to ring. How do celebrities do this on a daily basis?

and that’s not exactly how I want my night to go. Besides, I’d probably fall.

I start walking. I’m right behind a couple of guys I vaguely recognize. I think one of them might be Ashton Kutcher, but I don’t ask. I just kind of hide behind him, hoping no one will notice me until I’ve found Grant.

The good thing about Grant is that unlike some stars who rush up the carpet and disappear inside, he sticks around to sign autographs and talk to his fans. That’s where I spot him. He’s leaning up against the metal barricade separating the carpet from the regular people, signing his name in silver pen on some girls arm.

This is it. This is my moment.

Oh shit, Melody is here. I have to get to Grant before she spots me. He probably told her everything…and if she sees me before him she’ll have security on my ass faster than I can scream ‘I love you’ at Grant.

“Sydney,” someone screams out. I freeze. A photographer is pointing at me and waving. Melody looks up. Before she can spot me, I duck behind the guy who may or may not be Ashton Kutcher. Her eyes pass over the spot where I was just standing. She returns her attention to her Blackberry.

I can’t doddle now. I have to get to Grant before more people start recognizing me.

I rush forward.

Fifteen feet away.

I don’t know if I can do this.

Ten feet away.

I have to.

Five feet away.

“Grant!” I call out.

He turns immediately, the pen he’s holding sliding up the girls shoulder and over her shirt, leaving a long silver line.

“Sydney?” he faces me.

“Hi,” I step forward, closing some of the space between us.

“What are you doing here?”

“You invited me remember?” my voice comes out sounding like something between a chipmunk and an eighty-year-old woman who smokes.

I try to lock his eyes with mine, but he looks away.

“Can we please talk?”

He shakes his head. “I’m busy Sydney. You should go home.”

“No. I’m not leaving until you listen to me.”

“Sydney.” He steps toward me and lowers his voice so no one can hear.

Melody moves in too. She’s already waving at two security guards to come haul me away. “I’ll deal with her, Grant,” she tells him.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Leave her Melody.”

I take this as a good sign.

“The last thing we need is a picture of her getting hauled off by security in the tabloids tomorrow.”

Never mind.

She steps back and I lean in closer to Grant.

“Grant,” I beg. “Please just listen to me. Let me explain about Sunday.”

His jaw clenches and his brow creases. “I get it, okay? I saw the way you acted around that guy when we were at the movies. I figured there was something weird going on but I ignored it. Obviously I shouldn’t have. What was the plan? To use me to make him jealous? Like you thought I was doing with Summer? I guess it worked. You have what you want now. So be happy. Go home.”

“Listen to me Grant. I don’t have him, and I don’t want him, not anymore.”

“Well that’s too bad for you. But I’m done.”

“No,” I shake my head. “You’re not. I’m not letting you go.”

“Sydney, stop.”

“Listen to me Grant!” I practically scream it and just about every person in the area looks over at us. But I don’t care. I lashed out in front of my entire school yesterday. What’s a few thousand more people?

“We both screwed up.” I tell him. “You say I used you, well you used me too. I may have kissed another guy, and that was stupid. But I’d had feelings for him for a really long time. And out of the blue he told me he wanted me! I was confused okay? But you, you showed up in my life without warning or consideration. You kissed me in front of dozens of photographers because you didn’t want them to think you were pathetic! I didn’t ask for it! I didn’t ask for my picture to end up spread across the globe. Then before you even called to ask me on a date, you told David Letterman I was your girlfriend! Come on Grant, you did that for you, not me. So you can say that I used you, but you used me too.”

He looks down, and while he’s thinking, I hazard a look around and realize that everyone is still watching us; everyone is still hanging on to every single word. And that definitely is Ashton Kutcher.

“Fine. We used each other. It’s done.” Grant says.

“No. Because somewhere between the using and the lying, I actually started to like you. Believe me I tried not to. But you were just so damn nice and sweet and good looking. And when we kissed in the desert, maybe it started for the wrong reasons…but it ended with the right ones.

“If I can forgive you for turning my life upside down, then can’t you forgive me for one stupid moment of confusion? Please?”

“Why me? You say you had feelings for this guy for so long, why not him?”

“Because you saw me from the start, he only saw me once I was gone. Grant, you could have had any girl on this planet. But for some reason you picked me. Why?”

“You know why.”

“I didn’t recognize you. I didn’t care about being famous.”

“Yeah.”

“Well I still don’t. I’m still the same girl you met that night. If you want I’ll even tell the entire world I think you’re a terrible actor.”

“Gee thanks. What do you want from me Sydney?” He crosses his arms and bows his head.

“Nothing much,” I shrug. “Just a chance. One more chance.”

He doesn’t answer at first and cold fear grips my gut. What do I do if he says no? I watch him, gauging each tick of his face, each blink of his eye. I reach out and take his right hand in my left hand. I hold it gently and press my thumb against his palm. “Please?”

“Okay.”

I know I should restrain myself. That we’ve already given the people here enough of a show. But I can’t help it. I run at him. I press my lips against his and tangle my hands in his hair and breathe in every inch of him. And he doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t make me let go. He kisses me too.

He’s mine.

***

Melody isn’t the devil. I mean sure she’s controlling and bitchy and makes me nervous as all hell. But she’s also good at what she does. As soon as Grant and I pull out of the kiss, she sweeps us off the red carpet and into the theater. We sit through the entirety of
Deader than Night
– me shamefully hiding in Grant’s shoulder every time a zombie pops out on the screen – and then we’re whisked off in the back of Grant’s limo to head for the after party. Melody makes us stop at her place first though. Grant waits in the car while she rushes me upstairs.

“Get that polyester nightmare off your body,” she commands.

“What?”

“The dress,” she sighs. “It’s cute, but come on. $79.99 at JC Penny right? Grant West’s girlfriend is not going to one of the hottest after parties of the year wearing that.”

“Then what am I supposed to wear?”

That’s when she produces a white dress bag and pulls from it the most gorgeous dress I’ve ever seen. It’s green as well, but more of a sage color then the deep emerald of what I’m wearing. I pull off my dress and Melody helps me slip the other one over my head. It’s nothing like the stiff, lacey black numbers she bought me in Albuquerque. It’s beautiful and it’s perfect. I look at myself in the mirror and smile. It’s draped Grecian style over my chest, and darker green ribbon zigs and zags across my midsection before the skirt fans out in soft ripples to the middle of my calf. She also produces a pair of black heels and tells me to slip my feet into them.

I tell her how much I love the dress and thank her for letting me borrow it.

“Borrow it?” she scoffs. “Green is not my color. This is yours. I found it in a boutique on Monday, before I talked to Grant and found out what you did.”

“Oh.”

“If you break his heart,” she warns. “I will kill you. But for now, you look gorgeous.”

“Thanks.”

Now we’re at the party. Music is booming and people are everywhere. Grant is off talking to his agent. I finish the glass Iced Tea I’m drinking and place it on a table beside me.

“Hey there,” a waiter wearing a white shirt and a skinny tie walks over to me. “How’s about I get you another drink.”

“Oh. Um sure,” I shrug. “Iced Tea is fine.”

“Great,” he smiles and begins to turn.

“Oh here, you can take this as well,” I hand him my empty glass. He looks down at it and frowns. “Thanks.”

He walks off and Grant appears.

“You want the good news or the bad news?”

“Um good news?”

He laughs. “Well despite the fact that every website online is broadcasting a recording of our fight…people still seem to like you. I guess any press is good press.”

I laugh and lean into him “What’s the bad news?”

“That waiter you just gave your drink order to…that wasn’t a waiter, it was a Jonas Brother.”

My eyes flash open and I bite my lip. “But he was dressed like the other waiters.”

“Personal style choice,” Grant shrugs.

“And he asked to get me a drink.”

“Yeah, he was hitting on you…”

“But I’m with you…everyone knows that.”

He reaches for me and pulls me into his arms, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead before stepping back and looking me in the eyes. “Actually, astoundingly, contrary to popular belief, you aren’t the most famous person in this room.”