Page 98 of For One Night Only

My mom rolls her eyes at me. “Oh, please. You wanted this life! I helped you get it.” Her voice is nonchalant, but I don’t miss the vein popping on her forehead.

“At what cost?” My heart races. I’ve never really confronted her, not like this, and now I can’t stop. “You expected me to do everything they asked because it benefitted you, even if it meant crash diets or lost sleep or endorsement deals for companies I didn’t believe in. Hell, you gave my very personal, intimate photos to the press without my knowledge or permission—even though I was only nineteen and it branded me a slut! But you said it made me relevant, so I stayed quiet and counted headlines. I bet that tabloid paid you for the damn photos. You turned my self-esteem into this bruised, spotlight-desperate monster who hurts everyone around her. And right now, I’m having the worst night of my life. It’d be nice if you’d, I don’t know, check if I’m okay before trying to exploit me again. But you just don’t understand basic empathy.”

You’d think any of this would move her, but it doesn’t. She just scoffs, like she’s bored with the conversation, and sits primly in the chair. “Don’t be so dramatic, Valerie. It’s immature.”

“I’m not the emotionally immature one! You’re making this all about you, and I don’t have the energy. We’re not discussing my career any longer.” I laugh dryly. “Not that I have a career left to speak of.”

She gapes, rising again. “Now wait just a moment—”

I interrupt her. “No. It’s over, Mom. You need to leave.”

She throws up her hands. “Fine. When you come to your senses, you have Gina’s number. We’ll all be waiting to hear from you when you’re ready to fulfill your obligations.”

And then she leaves, slamming the hotel door behind her. Iwonder how many times we’ll have the same conversation. She’s never going to understand—she’ll always want something from me. The best thing I can do is cut her out of my life. Maybe I won’t even have to—once my career is gone, there will be nothing left to take. She’ll go find someone else to manipulate.

My mouth goes dry as I realize…maybe I’m just like her. I manipulated everyone in this band to get what I wanted from them. I orchestrated this reunion for my career, and then I tried to exploit more from it. How could I have done that to my friends? To Caleb?

It’s exactly what Tonya would have done.

God, I don’t want to be like this.

My mind is still reeling as I collapse back onto the bed. My phone buzzes, and I brace myself for another media contact reaching out for comment.

It’s probably better if I start ignoring my phone, but I don’t.

Fortunately, it’s not the media at all. It’s a text from Wade.

Hey, kiddo. I don’t need to tell you that you screwed up, but nothing is ruined forever. I just met with my team and we’re going to work on an image rehab plan. We’ll email you when it’s ready, but don’t look at it right away. We can discuss everything next week. Try to get some sleep.

Sleep? As if.

I almost call down to the restaurant and order another sundae, but my stomach lurches as I open a new tab and try to catch more headlines, and suddenly I feel like I’m going to be sick. I can’t make sense of anything. It’s all horrible.

So I give up and do what I always do when the world doesn’t make sense—I pick up my guitar and start writing.

32

Caleb

The next twenty-four hours are a blur.

Somehow I manage to leave the stadium, check into a different hotel, and book a new flight for the afternoon after the concert, but I’m so numb I hardly clock any of it.

I just know I never should have come to LA.

When Valerie showed up unannounced on my doorstep, I should have closed the door in her face, but I wasn’t strong enough to resist her. One look at those ocean eyes and I was under her spell again. Some naïve part of me hoped this time would be different. I thought we’d both changed enough to replace our bitter memories of those final Glitter Bats days with some good ones. One last time.

I should have known it would end like this: her chasing the limelight, me running again into the night. Does she even care that she broke my heart all over again?

By the time my plane lands, I’m ready to put everything behind me. As much as I want to drive straight home, I stop at a restaurant to order pizza and fancy beer to thank Cam and Leah for babysittingmy dog. Despite the heat of the summer, I tug my hood up like a shield when the guy taking orders stares a little too intently at me from behind the counter. It’s all I can do to escape before I’m recognized.

When I get to their house, I hug my family without saying another word, then drown my feelings in cheesy carbs and a few beers. Sebastian Bark would not leave my side at first, and it almost felt like everything was back to normal. But after he stole some pepperoni from my pizza and hightailed it out of there, I realized that was more about the food than missing me. Even the dog I rescued can’t be loyal. Still, it’s nice to be home…whatever that means anymore.

I can’t even make sense of the jumble of feelings in my chest. Anger. Embarrassment. Numb disbelief. I should have seen Valerie’s scheme coming, and I’m a fool for thinking I could trust her.

We’re watching an iconic episode ofSchitt’s Creek—the one when Patrick serenades David, even though it feels a little on the nose—when Leah asks the question.

“You want to talk about it?”

---