Page 42 of On the Beat

“I really couldn’t say,” I say, before regretting my words. Why couldn’t I just say that she’s fine? Then, I wouldn’t have to deal with the look of confusion and worry on my oldest friend’s face. “She’s just been so busy that we haven’t had time to talk.”

He doesn’t seem to buy my excuse, but he doesn’t have time to argue when someone thunders down the stairs, running at full speed and sliding on the hardwood. It’s Eddie.

“Speak of the devil,” he says with a smile. “Hey, kid. How’s it going?”

“Okay.” Eddie smiles and lets Paulo ruffle his hair, seeming a far cry from the subdued, grieving little boy that I saw last night. “Hi, Tito Ryder.”

“Hi, Eddie.” I put the bag on an entry table, next to a potted fern and a blank picture frame. “You didn’t go swimming again, did you?”

He shakes his head emphatically, making his crucifix go flying. “No!”

“What have you been up to?” I ask him, heading into the kitchen for a drink of water and some blessed air conditioning.

“Did you kiss Isla on the mouth?” Eddie asks in a completely unrelated way that makes me glad I have no water, because otherwise I’d spray it all over the kitchen. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No,” I say, with somewhat less force than his denial of going swimming.

“You’re not supposed to be alone in a room with a girl unless she’s your wife,” Eddie said seriously, nodding like he’s some sort of love guru. I have to laugh. “That’s what Tita Evangeline told me.”

“Things are different in America,” I say. Though the advice he’s parroting reminds me of what my mother used to give.

“But we’re not in America right now,” Eddie says. “Tita Evangeline also says you have to court a girl properly and ask her parents for permission. "

“Isla is a grown woman,” I say before stopping myself. Why am I even entertaining this conversation? It’s not like she will ever meet my girlfriend. “She can make her own decisions.”

Eddie looks aghast. “Are you saying Tita Evangeline is wrong?”

“I…” I scratch the back of my neck. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Nope. I was hoping you could teach me to play another Christmas song.”

“Sure, but only if you stop talking about girls.”

“Deal.” He shakes my hand, as if we’ve just conducted an important business meeting. “Let’s go, then.”

Chapter 21: Isla Romero

I skim the copy of theTiger Beatmagazine that my little sister, Analyn, sent me, flipping through the glossy, brightly coloured pages, as I try to distract myself from the thought of Ryder Black. It’s next to impossible, however, when the first thing I see is a listicle of ten facts about him.

Number one: his favourite colour is blue. I’m not sure how this could be enlightening to their 14-year-old readers, except on the off chance that they meet him and can hand him a love letter written in blue ink.

I keep reading. The second fact is that the paps have not spotted him with a girlfriend in over three years, ever since his highly-publicized breakup song about Skye Holland went viral.

I frown at the fact. Far from taking it as a credible piece of truth, I’m pretty sure it’s fiction. What guy in his position would be single for so many years? I’m sure he has groupies at his beck and call. Even if he is more discreet about his liaisons, that doesn’t mean he’s been single this whole time.

Or would he be? Maybe his one true love really is music, like he toldTeen Voguemagazine last year.

The third and fourth facts are tidbits about his family. His sister is one of the fashion and style writers at La Mode magazine… though wasn’t she just fired? His brother is involved in a more salacious and possibly even criminal lifestyle, but the magazine makes no mention of that, so I check the date. It’s from a few months ago, before any news of River Black’s embezzlement and fraud scandal broke.

Fact number five really is news to me. Apparently, he’s Spotify’s number one most streamed artist in the male popstar category. But, the most streams he’s garnered have been for his debut album, which was certified gold, then platinum a few months later. Well, he hasn’t put out anything absolutely fantastic since, so I’m not surprised.

The sixth fact is that he won first place on America’s got talent.Yawn. Anyone with half a brain has been awake for the past five years would know that. Number seven is a description of his signature hairstyle. Also boring. I should throw the magazine down and go hang out with my family to really cement the ”I came here for a family reunion-slash-vacation” shtick. Still, I can’t stop myself from reading the last three lines of the so-called article.

Number eight: he’s allergic to dogs. That’s why he once filmed a YouTube video of him answering questions while playing with kittens, instead of the expected puppy video.

Nine: he once nearly drowned as a child, attributing the accident to a scar that cuts across his left eyebrow. The mere mention of drowning makes goosebumps stand on my arms. It’s been years since I watched my older brother unsuccessfully belly flop into the pool–he also smacked his forehead on the concrete step and nearly split his skull open, necessitating a panicked trip to the ER. However, I still haven’t gotten over seeing him unconscious, floating face down in the water, red blossoming around his head into the chlorinated water like he was dead. I shudder.

Number ten: he—

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