Page 10 of Celebrities Don't Date Bookworms

“Okay, I’m ready.” The boy and I both turned toward the source of the voice: Sloane, walking back from the washrooms, staring at her phone. “Hey, did you see that…”

She trailed off as she finally looked up and saw that I was no longer the only person standing in front of her. Her head recoiled a little in surprise, which I thought was a bit of an overreaction until I remembered that the boy was still holding his hand out with the napkins and was dangerously close to my chest even now that I had stepped back.

“Sloane! Hi!” I stared at her with wide eyes, silently begging her to get me out of this awful situation.

“Megan,” she said calmly, eventhough her eyes were trained on the boy. Without looking away from him, she grabbed her drink from the counter and reached for me. She missed and grabbed at the air a couple of times before finally actually catching my hand. “Um, sorry to interrupt, but I’ve got to get home, and she needs to come with me.”

“Wait,” the boy said. He put his coffee down on the counter and pulled out his wallet. “Let me pay for your coffee. I’m the one who spilled it.”

“That’s okay,” I said. Sloane started slowly inching us toward the door. “I don’t mind.”

“No, really, I?—”

“You can repay her some other time,” Sloane interrupted.

The boy looked hopelessly confused. “But I don’t know you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you’re going to be seeing a lot more of us very soon!” Sloane ripped the door open and basically shoved me outside. I stumbled and just barely managed to stop myself from face-planting on the patio.

“Sloane!” I complained. “What was that for?”

Sloane looked over her shoulder at the large window of the Starbucks, then pulled me down the street until it was out of sight. Once we reached the corner of the sidewalk, she spun around and put both her hands on my shoulders.

“How did you meet that guy?” she asked breathlessly.

“What?”

“How did you start talking to him?” she asked. “What did he say?”

“What?” I laughed awkwardly. “I mean, I know he’s cute, Sloane, but?—”

“No, forget that,” she interrupted, shaking her head.

“Okay?” I didn’t understand why she was acting like this.

“Do you realize who that guy was?” She tightened her grip on my shoulders as I shook my head. “Megan, that was Hudson Shaw.”

“Hudson…”

“Hudson Shaw,” Sloane repeated slowly. “The lead singer of Take Five.”

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“No,”I said. I pulled myself free from her grip and laughed. “That’s ridiculous, Sloane.”

I continued on walking and wiped my shirt a little, my lip curling in disgust. Of course, I’d spilled coffee on myself when I was wearing my only non-stained white shirt. The one plus side was that it was going to get colder soon, and I would have to wear the sweater part of my uniform again so I didn’t freeze in school, which would cover up the stain. Until then, I guess I’d have to wear the black shirt instead—one of the only good parts of our uniform was how many choices we had.

“No, it’s not,” Sloane said. She grabbed my arm again to make me stop. I rolled my eyes but looked at her. “Trust me, Megan, I know what Hudson Shaw looks like. Grace has his poster on the outside of her bedroom door, so I have to walk past it every day, and that—” she pointed at the coffee shop over her shoulder “—was him. I’m positive.”

She looked serious enough that I didn’t think she was just pulling my leg for some reason, but I still thought she had to be mistaken. After all, what would Hudson-freaking-Shaw be doing hanging out in our local Starbucks on a Thursday afternoon? Celebrities didn’t just hang around here… except we did know for certain that the band was in Bibridge. And his bandmate had been spotted at another coffee shop. Was that what the barista meant when she said they were just as lucky as the people at Sunset Cafe?

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said hollowly, even though I was quickly realizing that it actually did.

“It doesn’t matter if it makes sense,” Sloane said, “because it happened.” She checked her watch and huffed impatiently. “Look, I’d love to keep talking, but I have to get home. Just…” She shook her head and blinked. “Megan, you met Hudson Shaw.”

“I met Hudson Shaw,” I repeated. The words sounded wrong on my lips. I was just some nobody, and he was one of the biggest celebrities in the world. What were the chances of that happening?

“Call me tonight,” she said. She started down the road towards her house but kept her eyes on me, and a hand pointed in my direction. “We need to come up with a game plan for Monday.”

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