Page 64 of Starstruck

“I know,” I hummed, ditching the raindrops and letting my body layflat on top of my covers.

“But hey, that wasn’t the only reason I was calling.” His tone grewcheerier, which managed to tug a smile out of me.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s about…” He paused, as did his pacing. “It’s about the…”

I sighed a laugh down the phone. “Jesus, Dad, don’t hold thybreath.”

“Watch it, dickhead.” He laughed, and I had to stop pretending thatI didn’t miss our daily banter, and barked a laugh right back at him.

“Fuck it,” he exclaimed. “The record label ‘ave looked at the chartsand they’re ‘appy with how the songs are performing, and I spoke to Cade last night, and he mentioned that there was talk about wanting more than just a couple of singles like they talked about.”

My head craned up. “Dad, what are you—”

“An album, Tristan. They see enough potential in you that they wantto make an album.”

I couldn’t breathe. “Are you taking the piss?”

“No, I wish I was, but… no. I’m dead serious.” He paused, and I satup on my elbow. “They want to get the title track and a few others recorded before a mini tour, sometime in May, and then announce the whole album at the last show.”

My heart was pounding, and this time I didn’t want it to slow down.

“Fuck me.” I ran a hand through my damp hair. “Where do they want the tour?”

His laugh was subtle, as though he couldn’t believe what he wasabout to say. “Well, apparently the tour manager for the Moody Sunday’s liked what he heard when you were out there, as well as how you acted off stage, too. Anyway, Cade mentioned that they had some sort of arrangement and… I don’t fucking know, I think I blacked out when he was talking to me.” Groaning, I heard him take a seat. “But he said the songs are performing better over there in the States than back here, and so they want a ten-state arena tour.”

My stare was burning a hole into the door of our dorm, and I’m sureit would set a light if I didn’t shift it. But for the life of me, with what Dad had just told me, I didn’t think I could.

“He said he’ll call you himself when all the details are finalised, andhopefully, by then, you’ll be… you know.”

Better.

I’d be better by then.

And being better meant not being a Liberty.

That was the end goal.

But as the thought passed through my mind, and the image of me nolonger walking to class and bumping into Goldie or seeing the people I was starting to consider friends every day… my heart seemed to sink.

Being at Liberty Grove felt like being wedged between the knot in the middleof a tug-of-war rope.

On one end, the dark corners I walked through every morning were calling myname, whispering what would happen if I drew too much attention to myself, or trusted the wrong person. There was the foggy haze of what my life would look like if the truth got out, if things crashed and burned right before my eyes before I’d even had a chance to work on myself.

But on the other end was the chorus of laughs from Finn, Jesse, andthe girls. And even though the weeks I’d been there had been constantly spent around them all, I could still see our loose ends tying together, in a way that made me feel hopeful.

Normal.

And right at the end of that rope was a flicker of sunlight, topazeyes, and a smile that felt like sitting under the sun, and the more I made out Goldie’s silhouette, the more I felt that tug towards her end of the rope get stronger.

“Tristan?”

I shook my head, trying to pull myself out of the fog. “Yeah, yeah…sorry. Just… trying to take it all in,” I replied, my voice tight, almost breathless.

Dad’s silence hung heavy before he cleared his throat. “I know,mate. It’s a lot.” His voice steadied. “And I don’t want to sound like a fuckin’ broken record, but with the rise in the charts and the buzz about the album… there’ll be more eyes on you, Trist. A lot more.”

I swallowed, feeling that familiar knot tighten in my gut.

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