Page 125 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

I read:

John,

Hey there! Is it as cold there as it is here? The big ten degrees. How are you and Dale getting on? Karen said she saw Stacy in the supermarket in Brewer last week. Have you heard from her at all? I guess Chrissy asked about you. Well, enough gossip. All the kids say hi, and they miss you. Chloe told me to tell you to come visit soon. It’s not the same here without you, John-O.

I’m busy writing, working on my next project. This one’s different. An entirely new direction for me. But shhh. If I tell them I’m done with the pop stuff and moving on to really playing the blues? Can you imagine the fans reaction? The label knows, of course. (It was their idea about the hush-hush business. I humor them.) I’m telling you, John, I worry about it sometimes. One of these days the creative juices will just dry up. I’m going to burn out and fade away. Won’t my fans have a cow, (as Ian says) I think my agent will probably, as my daughter is so fond of saying, “throw a spaz.” His ten percent just keeps on growing.

Just like this album keeps on growing. I think I’m halfway through, anyway, although it’s hard to tell with me. I have a serious problem with “keeping it short.”

Unfortunately, I do have to keep this short. I promised Michael I’d help him fix his ten-speed, although I have no idea how he thinks he’s going to ride it in two feet of snow. There’s Ian, knocking on my door and yelling, “Dad! Hurry up! Mom says we can’t eat until you come and I’m starved!” I don’t think he’s going to waste away, but I better go before they decide to lynch me. Until I see you, stay happy.

Tyler

I handed it back to him without a word. He replaced it in the letter box.

“You know,” I said softly as he sat back down in his chair. “Before right now, I was sure Maine was exactly where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. I wanted to...” I hesitated, groping for the words that would encompass the feeling. “I wanted to settle there.” It was the closest I could come to how I felt.

o;Here.” John offered me another napkin from the holder on the table. “Sorry I don’t have any Kleenex handy.”

I took it from him, wiping my eyes, black streaking across the napkin. Mascara.

“I must look awful.” I sniffed, stepping out of the circle of his arms.

John smiled. “You feel like talking about it?”

“I...” I hesitated.

I wanted to go to Dale. Everything in me ached for him, but something wouldn’t let me.

He was right, had been right about everything.

I was so ashamed, so horribly ashamed.

But still, I couldn’t swallow my pride and walk down the hall and apologize. I knew it wouldn’t mean anything, not now. I’d already made my choice—and I’d chosen Tyler Vincent.

“Sorry about dinner,” I apologized. “I guess I kind of ruined it.”

“Come on, come sit.” John went to the living room and I followed. He sat in a chair, and I sat on the edge of the loveseat. “We won’t talk about what Dale said if you don’t want to.”

“You think he’s right, don’t you?” I asked, not looking up.

“Well what I think isn’t very important. The question is, what do you think?”

“He...” I shrugged, looking down at the balled-up napkin in my hand. “He’s right. I’m wrong. And I’m sorry… but that doesn’t change how I feel.”

“How do you feel?”

I lowered my head. “I don’t know. Confused, I guess.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

The silence stretched and I heard Dale playing louder, the amp turned all the way up. It shook the floor and I’m sure the downstairs neighbors didn’t appreciate it.

“I’ve been planning this for so long.” I swallowed, unballing the napkin and spreading it out on my leg, not wanting to look at him. “I was supposed to enter last year, but then… stuff happened, and I didn’t graduate.”

“What happened?”

I shook my head, not wanting to think about it or remember. “I can’t go back and change anything. I can only go forward. Maine… and Tyler… has always been my way forward.”

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