Page 49 of Pierce Me

Faith: Dang it.

Manuela: Well, on the other hand, whoever it is, you’ll be 24/7 with a rock star. Who needs concerts? And if you want to go to one, you’ll be comfortable backstage, away from the crowds, right?

Eden: If I stay, I’ll be able to tell you once it’s announced that I’m working here.

Manuela: If you stay?

Eden: I’m weighing my options.

Faith: It sounds like a dream job to me. You’re on a boat, right? Greece?

Eden: Greece indeed. The boat is a mega-yacht. But, Fee, I’m not taking the job. How am I going to start to college in the autumn if I’m under contract until October?

Manuela: But you said you’d take a year off, right? And imagine how it will look on your application that you wrote songs for a mega star like that?

Eden: Yeah, Harvard will fall over themselves. Not.

Manuela: They might. But even if they don’t, you’ll have fun, En!

Eden: The outreach program is supposed to help me get into Harvard afterwards.

Faith: So, great! Issue resolved. I say go for it, En. You haven’t… No, wait. I almost put my foot in it again. Sorry.

Eden: No, it’s true. I haven’t done anything normal in years.

Faith: Ever.

Manuela: Shut up, Fee.

Eden: Faith is right. I’ll be twenty years old in a few months. This might be my last chance to live like an actual young person before I start adulting.

Manuela: It kills me when you talk like that, En.

Eden: Sorry.

Faith: It’s true, tho. Go for it, sis.

Eden: I’ll see what I can do.

Manuela: I mean, if they treat you like crap, don’t give it a second thought, just leave. I’m coming there personally to get you. But if it’s something else…

Eden: It’s not something else. Nor do they treat me like… Everyone has been lovely. Well, almost.

Manuela: Is there something else, En?

Eden: No, I promise. There’s nothing else going on.

ten

There’s no way I’m calling Wes to complain about the girl he hired.

The yacht begins to move again, and I barricade myself in my room, trying to write. Which I can’t.

The staff keep bringing me food and delicious wine, which I don’t touch, and at some point, Jude comes in and just sits with me, sometimes playing his guitar, but mostly silent. He’s just there for me.

As the sun turns into a blazing yellow disc in the sky, the door opens again, and I hear one of the waitresses walk in. I don’t even turn around to look at her: I just want to let her do her job in peace and leave.

She starts gathering up all the empty plates and glasses Jude and I have stacked on the side and I hear the sound of glass clattering as if her hands are shaking. Weird. All the servers on the yacht are incredibly professional. But I still don’t look over. If she’s nervous or if this is her first job waitressing, there’s no need to stress her more.

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