The Tour (26 page)

That’s what I notice. And then I look at the doorway toward the bunks, and Kaya is holding her shirt up against her naked chest. She’s sleeping with him? She’s supposed to be
working
on this tour. Working for me, not fucking the contestants on the bus while I get in fights and find out crazy ass shit about Kolton and Katharina.

Angry tears are streaming down my face, stinging the scratches from her nails. The bus stops abruptly, and Mayra comes with her heavy footsteps barreling down the aisle, pushes Kaya aside, shoves someone off my back, and grabs me hard by my arm, taking me down the walk-of-shame off the bus.

I feel the cold air smack my stinging face. I’m pacing and trying to catch a full breath. “Did she attack you?” Mayra demands. Everyone is staring out of the windows of the bus as I pace on the side of the road crunching snow with my socks. We’re in Baltimore. Or rather, I don’t know where we are. We’d just left Baltimore. It’s freezing out here, but all I feel is the shivers of anger and the winds of confusion.

“Yeah. She slapped me and wouldn’t let go of my hair, so I beat the shit out of her,” I admit angrily. So much energy is pumping through my bloodstream. I feel like I could take on ten more Gypsy Dresses.
God! That felt good
. I’ve hated her for so long.

Kaya, now wearing her shirt without a bra, and holding my shoes, jumps down off the bus and walks toward me. “Mia?” she questions, turning me toward her and fixing my hair. When she does, my scalp starts to throb. “What happened?” she asks, handing me the shoes. I slip them on, but my feet are wet, and this just makes it worse. I stand up straight and look her in the eyes.

“Did he kiss Katharina?” I ask, my voice high pitched and full of still unshed tears. “Is that the secret?” I’m crying so hard my face is scrunched up. A car pulls up in front of our bus, and I look behind us and there are the two other buses carrying the crew and the trailer with equipment lining up behind us. Someone in the car yells, “Mia!” and then a flash from a camera captures me, saving this moment for all of time.

“Let’s go,” Mayra says, taking me by the arm again and dragging me toward the bus behind ours. The door pops open, and all three of us get on. “We need a first aid kit,” Mayra says, shining her stupid flashlight in my eyes.

“Do we need an ambulance?” the driver asks.

“No,” I say. “I’m fine.” I concentrate on my hand. It’s scraped from punching her in the mouth, and there’s blood all over my leggings from her nose.

Mayra starts to work on my cuts when the staff nurse comes out from wherever she was sleeping. As Mayra, Kaya, and the nurse discuss what happened, and I hear Mayra say, “You’d better go take care of that other girl. All this blood is from her nose.”

As Mayra works on the stinging lines on my cheeks from being scratched, my mind wanders to Kolton.

Did he really kiss her?
Is that why he won’t share what happened with me? When I contemplate that he’s kept me from the truth because he feels guilty over what he did that night and not because he just needed more time, the truth stings worse than the antiseptic. If this is true, he’s not just tried to shield me—he’s lied. And lies are far worse at tempting fate than secrets are.

BFF

A
s Mayra is putting some ointment on my face, the nurse comes back into the staff bus and says, “We’re going to have to take her to the Urgent Care. Her nose is broken.” I feel my back hunch over. This is going to get leaked to the press.

“Give us a minute to figure out where we can park,” the driver says.

I’m shaking now, and taking purposeful breaths. I don’t feel bad for Gypsy Dress, though. She’s the one who slapped me. She grabbed me when I tried to walk away from her. I never would have touched her first. I was defending myself, pure and simple.

“What else is hurt?” Mayra asks me.

“My hand,” I say, balling it back up in a fist to show her the scrapes. Kaya’s phone is buzzing, and she presses green before saying, “Hello?”

“Who is it?” I ask her, and she’s making a face. She really needs a bra. She might as well be naked. That T-shirt doesn’t hide much as it is.

“She’s okay…it was a fight on the bus…with Kimber Smith,” she says, and it takes me a minute to remember that Gypsy Dress’ name is Kimber Smith. “Apparently, Kimber told Mia about the video,” she says, and I jump up off the bench.

“Is that Kolton?” I ask, reaching for her phone.

“Girl,” Mayra says. “Sit down. These cuts’re from her teeth. Do you want an infection?” she asks, clearly rhetorically, before making me sit back down.

“Mia has some cuts, but Kimber has a broken nose so we’re taking her to Urgent Care…uh huh…well…” and then she leans into the phone and turns her back toward me and starts whispering. I want to push Mayra out of my way and grab the phone. I want to ask him what he did. If he really kissed her and why. “She’s going to do what she’s going to do. But you should talk to her about it,” she says, just loud enough for me to hear. She turns around, her expression is daunting.

“What did he say?” I ask, feeling the pressure on my chest and the rumbling of nerves in my stomach.

She closes her eyes for a second. “He’s really upset, Mia. He says—basically, he wishes he’d talked to you about it before you left.”

“So, it’s true?” I ask. And she nods.

“Yeah, but you don’t understand—”

“And you do?” I ask, realizing that Kaya has already had the conversation with Kolton that he should have had with me. It burns and makes my chin tremble. I see the look on her face. She has the power to read my mind. “Just leave me alone,” I say. “Why don’t you go back to what’s-his-face’s bunk,” her face drops, pain registering in her eyes. “And don’t forget to get your bra this time.”

“Mia,” she says, her voice achingly sad.

“You conspired to keep this from me, too,” I cry. “You should have told me the truth. And when I needed you, you were—never mind,” I spit at her, tears falling down my face. “I want you to go home. I need a real assistant,” and then I turn away from her. It stings, but she’s hurt me.

I can’t even look at her. She’s supposed to be my best friend. Instead she was paid to help Kolton lie.

Even Though It’s Not True

T
he caravan pulls up to the Urgent Care somewhere in Cockeyesville, Maryland. It’s next door to a sushi place, a dentist, and a jewelry store. It’s late, but they’re still open. Kaya is sitting on the bench opposite of me texting furiously. I refuse to talk to her right now—but I know what I said was really fucked up. Still, she betrayed me.

I watch as the nurse holds a towel to Kimber’s nose, keeping her head tilted back, as they walk toward the front door. Soon after, a police car pulls up, and two police officers walk inside.

“She’s trying to file charges against me—I know it,” I say to Mayra.

“You ain’t talking to no one without your lawyer.” She squares her shoulders and watches the door.

Soon after, one of the officers comes out, walks toward the staff bus, and taps on the door with his baton. The bus driver opens the door, and the police officer’s radio static sounds invade the unnerving quiet on our bus. “I need to speak to Mia Phoenix,” he says. Mayra stands and walks toward the door.

“I’m Ms. Phoenix’s security. She’s not available to speak to you without her lawyer present,” she declares, in the no-nonsense tone of hers. With that, I stand and walk toward the door.

“I want to talk to him. I didn’t do anything wrong. She attacked me.” She turns toward me, giving me that look that says, ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ but I don’t waiver. The handprint across my face, ripped out hair on my scalp, and scratches are going to show what I’m saying is true. She moves out of the way, her eyebrows raised and her lips pursed, and extends her hand toward the door, giving me permission to leave.

I move down the steps, and the officer fiddles with his radio. “Do you want to tell me what happened between you two?”

I waste no time with niceties. My jaw is tight with anger, making it hard to start. “I walked back to the lounging area on the bus,” I say, “and…Kimber started asking me personal questions that escalated to us arguing. I stood up to leave and she got in my face—I told her to sit down and she slapped me here,” I say, showing him the mark I can still feel on my face. He shines his flashlight on it and nods.

“I pushed her—I was trying to get away, but she grabbed me by my hair,” I say, running my hand through the strands, and a clump of hair comes out with my fingers. When I see it, I don’t even know what to do. I just hold onto it. I should take a picture to document that she’d pulled my hair. “We fought some more and I tried to walk away, but she grabbed me again, scratched my face, and then I pulled her face down to my knee. I couldn’t get her to stop any other way.”

The wind blows and some of my hair sticks to the ointment on the cuts in my cheek. My feet are itching from my wet socks inside my shoes. “We’d like you to come in so we can take some pictures of your injuries. She’s got a broken nose, and her story is different than yours—so…”

“Just ask Jessie and Blaire,” I offer. They were right there.

“We will,” he says. “We definitely will.”

*     *     *

Hours later, I’m yawning wide and wishing I’d just stayed in my bunk instead of ruining the tour with this stupid fight, and unearthing Kolton’s lie along the way. “Is there any way I can get my phone?” I ask Mayra. “It’s in my bunk.”

I stand and pace inside the patient room inside the Urgent Care. I’m still pacing when she brings it to me. I thank her and then I check my texts, finding three unread texts from Kolton.

Kolton

10:02 PM

Sorry I missed your call. Call me back. Miss you.

10:42 PM

What happened? Kaya texted something happened on the bus. Call me now!

11:15 PM

WTF? You’re fighting people now? The way I’m feeling, it’s a good thing you’re there and I’m here
.

When I read his last text, I realize he thinks
I
attacked
her
. I mean, did I stand up and lose my temper? Yeah, but she’s the one who hit me. And why is it that he’s turned this around on me? He’s the one whose lie just came out. Shouldn’t I be the one who’s asking him for an explanation instead of the one who’s in trouble?

He’s the one who kissed Katharina before she died—and maybe he had a reason for it. But he should be the one answering my questions instead of jumping to conclusions.

Part of me wants to call and set him straight. The other part feels like curling up somewhere and wishing none of this happened at all.

What I know right now is the best thing for me is to take a break. I don’t think I can face him and his secrets anymore tonight. Or anymore for a while. I walk outside of the room, past Mayra, who’s standing guard, and find the officer who’d asked me to come in.

“When can I go back to the bus?”

“We’re still getting what we need for the report. Both of you are pressing charges against the other. And we still have to interview the witnesses.”