Page 41 of Dear Rockstar (Dear Rockstar 1)

“Come on.” Aimee shoved her way through the crowd like a linebacker, clutching her shopping bag to her chest, expecting me to follow. I couldn’t do much else as the crowd parted before us at Aimee’s insistence, filling in behind me as we moved through, as if flesh were water, the crowd all one entity.

I don’t know how she managed to get us to the front, but she was determined, and there were no security guards here pushing people back into their seats or checking tickets, like they did at the big stadiums during Tyler Vincent concerts. We were front and center and the man on stage had my full, undivided attention.

From this vantage point, I could see every scuff on his combat boots, his jeans tight enough to conform to the contours of his body. He was pure energy, striding away from us now on stage, holding the microphone up as his body arched, holding one long, glorious note, and giving me and everyone else a flash of that studded belt and the ridged expanse of his abdomen. When he turned back toward us, I saw his t-shirt. It read, “Black Diamond.”

“He saw you.” Aimee grabbed my arm, squealing and shaking me violently, but she wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.

Our eyes met and locked as the song came to a halt, followed by a screaming conclusion from the crowd, girls around us pressing me into the stage, forcing all the air out of my lungs, but I’d forgotten about doing anything so basic as breathing. Dale Diamond had found me, and that hungry, wanting look I had seen him scanning the crowd with was suddenly focused entirely on me. The shift in energy was so sudden and obvious, everyone watching craned their necks to see what—or who—he was looking at.

He recovered quickly, reaching out to touch a few outstretched hands, melting the front row of girls like one long stick of butter as he moved closer toward me. He couldn’t have planned it, he didn’t know we would be there, but when he reached the spot on the stage in front of me and Aimee, he paused, his eyes never leaving mine. He hadn’t stopped looking at me since he found me in the crowd. He had a look on his face caught somewhere between surprise and anger. I wondered if he was angry at me for being here, when he hadn’t told me about it.

uo;d been trying to tell her about how I’d felt when she was flirting with Dale, but she was completely missing the point.

“I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” I tried again. “So there’s no reason for me to be mad, but the point is I was mad anyway. I was jealous. Which means Dale must mean more to me than I let myself believe he did. Get it?”

“Yeah, I guess. You really like him huh?” She turned sideways in the mirror, frowning at her figure.

“I guess I must.” I couldn’t stop thinking about him, no matter how hard I tried. I was glad my painting had been almost finished when we met, because I couldn’t even paint. I’d picked him up from school every day this week, although we got precious little time alone before I picked up Aimee. Chemistry was a blur. Thank God Dale insisted we wear our safety goggles, because I’d exploded a test tube mixing something because I’d been looking at his profile and hadn’t been paying attention. The ride home was my favorite part though, because Aimee had started riding home with Carrie and Wendy—and Carrie’s older brother, Matt.

Dale and I had the entire ride home to ourselves.

“Earth to Sara.” Aimee waved a hand in my face. “What do you think of this one?”

“Uhh. I like it?” I looked her up and down, noticing for the first time she’d changed outfits.

She cocked her hip, grinning down at me. “You are so far gone it’s not even funny.”

“I guess I am.”

Every day for a week, sitting in my idling car, saying goodbye without saying anything at all—the touch of his hand, his forehead pressed to mine, the way he brushed my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. And still, he hadn’t kissed me. Not once. Nothing but that brief brush of his lips. I was beginning to go a little crazy.

“But Aimee…” I looked up at her, shaking my head. “What if I win the scholarship and I go off to college in Maine? Then where will we be? Long-distance relationships never work. And what if I meet Tyler Vincent?”

“So what if you do? What do you expect to happen?” It was her turn to roll her eyes at me. “Dale is here and he likes you. Tyler Vincent doesn’t even know you exist.”

“Let’s go to Harmony House.” I changed the subject as fast as I could, not wanting to get into it with her. Aimee believed in destiny and ghosts and true-love, but she didn’t let her fantasies out of her head and into the world like I did. She was far more of a realist.

Besides, there was no arguing with love. Love didn’t care. Love did whatever the hell it wanted, no matter who or what got in the way.

We went up to the register to pay for Aimee’s outfit. I watched, envious, as she casually handed over a credit card. Aimee’s parents were divorced and she had guilted her father into paying the bill every month, an arrangement that annoyed Aimee’s mother but secretly thrilled Aimee and her father.

Harmony House was packed. It was always packed on weekends. Aimee stayed at the front of the store to look at the new releases, but I went straight to the alphabetized section—

“V”—looking for Tyler Vincent. I didn’t expect to find anything new—I owned everything he’d ever recorded on vinyl and cassette anyway—I just liked to flip through and look at him.

I saw two girls I recognized from our high school in the next aisle. They had graduated with everyone else in our class. I vaguely remembered their names—Lisa and Kathy, the latter short for Katherine or Kathleen, I wasn’t sure which.

“Let’s go back,” Lisa said, tugging on her friend’s sleeve. “Please! He was so amazing! I have to go back!”

“My sister’s picking us up in half an hour!” Kathy protested. “And I’ve already got homework in my stupid English class.”

I knew both of them were going to Brookdale Community College, like a lot of our former classmates. As much as I wanted out of this state, I was still jealous of them moving on, not stuck like I was, in limbo, waiting to finish something that should have been done already.

“Come on!” Lisa insisted. “Just until your sister comes. I have to go back! He is so damned fine!”

Aimee joined me, overhearing their conversation. She waved at Lisa, who had been in marching band, I remembered, so Aimee was far more friendly with her than I had been.

“Who’s fine?”

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