Over It (The Kiss Off #2) (21 page)

“Whatever,” Ty said again. I kind of wanted to smack him. “I’m at the festival all day anyway. Have fun writing.”

“I will,” I said, checking for anything of mine I’d forgotten. I found a lip gloss and shoved it in my pocket.

"Where did you disappear to, anyway?"

"Nowhere," I replied.

He shook his head and sighed. "Fine."

God
.

"The camping ground. I wanted to see my friends. To be honest, I didn't think you'd notice I was gone."

His head jerked back an inch and he looked like I’d slapped him in the face. "Of course I noticed."

My face flamed and a shudder of shame trickled down to my belly. "I thought you'd be distracted, busy dealing with the backlash of your fight and everything. It doesn't really concern me so I thought I'd just..." I didn't finish my sentence. I stuck my thumbs in the air and pointed over my shoulder.

"It's fine, I get it," Ty said.

It was so not fine.

"You coming to
any
shows tomorrow?"

"I doubt it," I said. I cringed apologetically as his jaw set in frustration. This was his first big headlining gig and I was going to miss it. “I’ve got to write,” I said, pleading for him to understand. “This is it, this is my-”

“Your shot, I know,” he said, staring at the wall. “That’s what you keep saying. I get it.”

And
he
kept saying
that
.

“Anyway we’re closing, so if you find the time, it’d be cool if you came and saw us play. It’s at seven.”

“Yeah,” I said, “of course. I really want to.” Though it wasn’t uttered, the word ‘but’ filled the room as if someone had shouted it through a megaphone. He nodded and shifted his gaze to his feet.

“I’ll try,” I said. “I really will.”

He nodded, his expression blank. Guarded.

This was horrible. It didn’t feel like standing there any longer was going to help the situation so I tentatively reached for his laptop. Even though we were pissed at each other, I wasn’t too proud. I needed it.

“Is it still cool if I…?”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“And I can come borrow a mic tomorrow and-”

“I said you could, Poppy.” He walked to the bedroom doorway and waited to see me out. My skin tingled uncomfortably and I averted my gaze. Hugging his laptop to my chest with one arm, I squeezed past him through the doorway. I gave a grimace–smile to the boys as I picked up Mads’s suitcase where I’d dumped it in the hall and headed for the suite door. While I’d been shuffling to the door with my tail between my legs, Ty had gone over to the living room and picked up a guitar case. A guitar. Yes. I’d need that for songwriting, too. Just another thing I was borrowing from him when we were pissy at each other.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. He may have been pissed at me, but he still cared. He helped me sit my bag on top of the suitcase and sling the strap of the guitar case securely over my shoulder and, like a gentleman, he opened the door for me.

The boys yelled goodbye and Ty leaned against the wall, watching me step out. We didn’t hug goodbye. No peck on the cheek. He didn’t even look like he was going to say ‘see you later’. He just stood there watching me, waiting for me to go.

“We’re good, right?” I asked uncertainly. “I mean, you’re stressed and I’m stressed, and things are crap at the moment, but you and me, we’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Ty said. “We’re fine.” The words were right, but the emotion, the atmosphere was definitely not.

Ty glanced back into the room as Dex called him over. He looked back at me and said, “Goodnight, Poppy.” And closed the door.

“Men,” I said as Mads opened the door for me and stepped aside.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of me and, for the second time in twenty minutes, I was completely unprepared for a bear hug, my arms pinned to my sides.

“You’re here,” she said with a relieved sigh.

The last time I’d seen her a couple of hours ago I’d tackled her into the sand and she’d stormed away from me in a rage. I didn’t expect a happy smile and hug so quickly, but, hell – I’d take it. I’d take the heck out of it.

“Yep,” I replied, voice muffled, my mouth pressed into her hair. I pushed our embrace forward into the room until finally she let me go. Unlike Ty’s deluxe suite, the room was pretty standard, though as would be expected of the Burlington Grand, the fittings were lavish and high end. Hamish was luxuriating on top of the silk and cotton covers on the queen size bed by the balcony, his arm outstretched with a remote control pointed at the flat screen TV on top of the sideboard. He was flicking through news and music video stations.

“How are you, Poppy, are you okay?” Nikki asked, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, forehead creased with concern.

I let out an exhausted, frustrated growl, peeled the hoodie off and threw it into the corner by the balcony. The doors were open, the curtains fluttering in the breeze.

“I’m alright,” I said, “Just frustrated about stuff.” I heaved the suitcase onto the second of the two beds and Mads eagerly threw it open and rummaged through the jumbled sleepwear.

“Of course you are,” Nikki said as tank tops and shorts were thrown over Mads’s shoulders, landing on Nikki’s face.

“We’ve been checking for any stories about you,” Hamish said, clicking through more channels. “Just so we know what they’re saying.”

“Awesome,” I said, though my tone suggested otherwise.

Nikki joined Mads at the suitcase and dropped all but a white tank and purple cotton pajama shorts back in the now empty case. I pulled my hair up into a pony, raking my fingers through it before tying it into a knot on the top of my head.

“Don’t look,” I said to Hamish and he shielded his view, eyes still on the TV as I stripped off my top and-

“Wait,” he said and jumped up, heaving the balcony curtains closed. Hand over his eyes, he climbed back onto the bed. “That was close.”

My heart pounded from the potential. That would have been just my luck.

As I changed out of my day clothes and into a comfy, loose tank (
not
the Academy tee shirt) and shorts, Mads finished picking through the bag and frowned. “Did you bring any for me?” she asked, holding a black tank and electric blue shorts.

“Aren’t those yours?” I asked. “They were on your sleeping bag.”

She narrowed her eyes and scowled at Nikki. “Because she’s a slob.”

“Excuse me, but the tent is a bomb site full of all the random crap you picked up at The Exchange.”

“That stuff is vintage,” Mads said, as if that was supposed to change everything. “And awesome. I’m going to make a mint, just you watch.”

“Did you swap your pajamas, Mads?” I asked, climbing onto the second bed with my lyric book and the laptop.

She gave me a dirty look. I couldn’t work out if it meant yes, in fact she had traded in her pajamas at The Exchange stall and forgotten, or if no, she was choosing not to dignify my question with an answer because clearly I was an idiot.

Either way, she didn’t tell me.

“You can just borrow mine.” Nikki sighed as she pulled her tank on over her clothes, then with some fancy finger work, maneuvered herself out of her top and bra right in front of us, including a very watchful Hamish.

Mads made her way over to the ensuite, Nikki’s other pajamas in her hands. She muttered something which I think
might
have included the word “thanks” and closed the door. A couple of minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom in a black tank and blue shorts, tossed her clothes in the corner and bounced herself onto the queen bed beside me.

“They fit okay?” Nikki asked.

Ooh, danger zone. Mads could have taken that question to mean any number of things, like Nikki making none–too–subtle inferences. I braced myself for impact; for Mads’s eyes to narrow, her nostrils to flair or her lips to get really thin as she pressed them together and pondered how to murder someone without leaving any evidence.

But she didn’t do any of that. Instead, she lifted her chin an inch, skirted her gaze around Nikki and sat up straight. “They’re fine, thank you,” she said primly, running the material of the shorts between her fingers. “These are actually really comfy.”

Nikki and I looked at each other blankly for a second, unable to comprehend exactly what was happening. It seemed like Mads was saying something nice to Nikki… that couldn’t be right.

“I actually made them myself,” Nikki said.

Mads’s head shot up. “No way.” She looked down at the shorts again, scrutinizing the seams.

“Yeah.”

“I like this fabric,” Mads added.

Astounding.

“Me too,” Nikki said, “it’s so comfy, right? They’re really easy to make, too.”

“Maybe you could show me how you make them some time,” Mads said. She flicked her thumb across her phone and fixed her gaze on the screen, too proud to acknowledge that she and Nikki might actually have been getting along.

“Yeah,” Nikki said, surprised. She glanced at me and raised her eyebrows, before clearing her expression again and playing it cool. “I could do that.”

“Cool,” Mads said.

Mads’s fingers sped across the screen. She must have been writing a text or something. “So Poppy,” she said, changing the subject. After a second she dropped the phone on the bedspread and looked over at me, giving me her undivided attention. “What the hell happened?”

So I told them.

Told them about Operation BFF, the ‘90s cover band and the supposed Cookie Monster guitar.

“Dude, that’s it?” Hamish said, lying back on the bed, his hands behind his head.

I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to my chin. “Yup.”

“They knew how important tonight was, right?”

“Oh, they knew!” I said. “Dex made it crystal clear just how smoothly Operation BFF needed to go.”

“And they screwed it all up over a bit of trash talk.” Mads shook her head in disbelief.

“Not even
good
trash talk,” Hamish added. “As far as ribbing goes, that was pretty weak. I’m just saying.”

“And you would be right,” I said. I groaned and collapsed backward onto the bed, my legs dangling over the edge. Then I sat up again as my burned shoulders hurt. I rummaged around in my bag for the aloe vera. “Why do guys have to suck so much?”

“Um, excuse me,” Hamish said, throwing the remote at me. Missed by a mile. “I’m right here.”

“Boys
do
suck,” Mads agreed. “Like they flirt with other girls and then tell you you’re overreacting when you ask them about it.”

“Yeah,” Nikki agreed, nodding. “They act like you’re this big, jealous, clingy monster just because they’re talking to a girl. But sometimes you have good reason to be worried.”

I didn’t know what say to this, coming from Nikki.

“And something else they do that pisses me off?” Mads said. “They talk about their exes.”

“Uh huh,” Nikki agreed again, lost in thought. Was she talking about Cam? Had Cam talked about me a lot when they’d been together? “And act like a dick when you’re both around their friends. Like they feel like they have to be this big man or some shit, and put their woman in their place.”

Wait. That didn’t sound like Cam. Maybe she was talking about someone else. I really wanted to know but it felt weird to ask, especially if it
was
Cam.

“Okay, so I’m getting really uncomfortable with the man bashing going on here,” Hamish said, rising from the bed and slipping into his flip–flops. “So I’m gonna go out for a while.”

“Where are you going?” I asked as he opened the door.

“I don’t know, Mom, but I promise I’ll be back by curfew.”

Smart ass.

I squirted aloe vera gel onto my chest. Mads took the bottle from me and went to work on my back as we talked. She was a good friend when she wasn’t being a complete bitch–monster.

“Dev’s been keeping all these secrets from me,” she said quietly. I watched her in the mirrored closet doors, her expression hurt and vulnerable. “He wouldn’t tell me what was going on with him. He wouldn’t let me in, he started sending me through to his freaking voicemail. The last time I went over to his place he pretended he wasn’t home. What choice did I have?”

Nikki and I were quiet for a moment. I put my hand reassuringly over Mads’s and gave it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nikki said. “I actually thought you two made a good couple.”

A shutter slammed down over Mads’s face; her expression turned stony and I felt her whole body go rigid. “And then there are guys that go around telling everyone that girls they know are sluts and put out all the time,” Mads said. She threw a pointed look at Nikki. “But sometimes what they’re saying is true.”

I closed my eyes with disappointment. She couldn’t be vulnerable in front of Nikki for even a second?

Don’t listen, Nikki, don’t do it. Don’t
…

“You know what? I’m sick of your shit,” Nikki said.

“I wasn’t talking about
you
,” Mads said.

“Cut the crap, we all know you were. Yeah, people call me a slut. All the time. There are actually a couple of bitches at school who take pleasure in spreading rumors that I’m whoring myself around my school,” Nikki said.

A cold shudder ran down my spine. I’d had no idea she was being bullied.

“People say it’s just words, but words are hurtful, Mads.
Your
words are hurtful. So I’ve kissed some guys. A lot of guys. Big deal. So I’ve slept with guys when they were my boyfriend. Not just random hook ups – boyfriends. How is that anyone’s business but my own? How is that any of
your
business?”

Nikki stared Mads down; Mads stared at the bedspread. She was thoroughly unprepared for such a comeback. The tension in the room was electric, crackling with hostility and unsaid things.

“Who’s saying that stuff?” I asked Nikki.

“Just some vapid, idiot girls I used to be friends with.”

“Want me to kick their asses? Lyrically, I mean. I could send Ty to kick their asses literally but judging from tonight he’d do the worst job of it, ever,” I said. “The
worst
.”

Nikki gave me a weak smile, looked back at Mads for a second then away from us both.

“And Mads, why didn’t you tell me about Dev?”

She shrugged.

“Do you know what’s going on with him?”

She shook her head, still staring at the bedspread, watching intently as she rubbed a frayed edge between her fingers.

We just sat there for a minute, Nikki staring at the muted TV, Mads staring at the bedspread, both successfully avoiding each other’s gazes, and me looking hopelessly from one to the other and back again.

What had I been thinking? I knew they were both stubborn girls with strong opinions. Had I really thought forcing them together would solve anything? The fact that I hadn’t really been around a lot this weekend sure hadn’t helped. The way they both kept digging at each other, Mads especially, they pressed each other’s buttons like no one I’d ever known. Stab–stab–stab. Maybe it was a lost cause, this friendship idea of mine. A nice thought that I ultimately needed to bury and forget about.

I got up and laid the guitar case on the bed next to Mads and they both watched as I unsnapped the locks and pulled it out.

“Girls can be bitches,” I said, looking at Nikki, “and boys suck,” I said, glancing up at Mads. “Maybe we can write a song about it.”

I didn’t even remember falling asleep. But at some point I must have; we all had. Mads was in bed with me, spread out on her stomach like a starfish, one leg draped over my thigh and her cell clutched loosely in her hand as if she had fallen asleep texting someone.