Jaded (Rock Star Trilogy) (3 page)

“How are you liking your
normal
life?” he asks with humor in his voice. He thinks I'm silly for wanting normal.

I sigh. “Well, I made a friend,” I say, thinking of Ethan. “But, my life is anything but normal. Everybody followed me around, asking for autographs all day. I thought Hope High School was small, but I feel like I signed all day. Certainly I would have gotten everybody by now.”

“Well, you are the
hottest rock star on the planet
...” he pauses, and then adds, “besides me, that is.”

I roll my eyes, but nearly drop my phone as I pull up to my beachfront home. I scream out in
frustration. There a mobs of people standing outside my house. “
ARGH
! I have to go! I have a situation to deal with.”

I click off my phone, and shoot my dad an email telling him I need security. He replies in less than a minute.
I told you so,
is the first line of his reply. Then he gives me the details of the guys who will be here in an hour. I shut off my car, and boldly face the paparazzi.

I push my way through the crowds of people. They're all screaming my name, shoving microphones at my mouth, and taking pictures. I walk into my house, turn around, smile, and hold up both middle fingers before slamming the door in their faces. I can't wait to see that on the internet.

My phone blings within minutes. It's my dad. He's pissed about the pictures. I love that I pissed him off. At that moment, I love technology.

7:35 pm

Speaking of pants...

The crowds are gone, security is standing guard, and I am officially bored. So bored, that I'm actually reading my @'s on Twitter.

Ok, ok, I may be a terrible rock star, but I get thousands of tweets a day. Some of them are super sweet and say something like:
@RockStarScar I LOVE YOU! You're so pretty and awesome...
and blah, blah, blah. But then I get douches that say stuff like:
@RockStarScar you're ugly. I hope you die.
And let's be honest, those tweets are depressing.

I'm scrolling through the tweets on my iPhone when I see an avi that looks familiar. It's from @Stephan_Montgomery.
@RockStarScar hey, Blondie
. I roll my eyes, but I follow him anyway, and reply.

@Stephan_Montgomery Hey, Mr. Snarky Pants

He replies instantly.
@RockStarScar speaking of pants.... ahem... I'm pretty sure you want in them.

I roll my eyes.
@Stephan_Montgomery 140 characters aren't enough to explain how much you disgust me.

@RockStarScar then why don't you come meet me? You can tell me to my face how much you “don't” want me.

@Stephan_Montgomery okay. But only because I'm bored, and desperate.

@RockStarScar I like desperate women ;)

I have a DM from him, it is his address. I sure am not sending mine to him. So, I grab my keys, and I go.

7:55 pm

Damn girl reactions!

I don't go far. Literally, Stephan lives in the house next door. How did I forgot the name of my own street? I turn off the navigation on my phone, and walk over. I'm about to ring the doorbell when I hear, “Hey, Blondie.”

“I have a name,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

“
Oh, I know,” Stephan smiles, and I swear my heart speeds up. What is up with that? “I just like torturing you.” And just like that, I'm broken from his spell.

“
You have 5 minutes to entertain me before I leave,” I fake a yawn.

He holds up his phone. “Nice pic. I see you know how to use your middle fingers very well.”

I take a look at the picture of me, and smile. I actually look kind of good in this pic. “I could reenact the moment for you.” I'm about to flip him off when he takes my hand, and pulls me down the beach.

“
Where are you taking me?” I ask, but continue to let him lead the way. I kind of like the butterflies I feel when he's touching my hand. “Are you kidnapping me?”

I see him crack a smile. “Blondie, you are conceited.”

“I'm
fucking
Scarlett Ryan,” I joke. “Of course I'm full of myself.”

He clears his throat. “You know, I'd kind of like to fuck Scar...”

I cut him off. “Ewe. As if!” It's suddenly hot, and it definitely has nothing to do with the Florida humidity. “Like I'd give you the golden ticket. I'm not some cheap tramp.”

He stops, and turns towards me. “I never said I'd get it for free.” He pushes my bangs behind my ear, and I shiver against him. He smirks, like he's proven something. “I'll work for it.”

He leans closer, and I lick my lips in anticipation. His lips are literally half an inch from mine. I close my eyes, and he suddenly jerks away, laughing.

“
I
hate
you.” Damn girl reactions.

“
You
wish
you could hate me,” he winks. “But if you didn't like me, you would not be here with me now.”

Damn, he's right. I hate that he's right. “I'm going to write a song about you.”

“Already in love with me?” He continues to pulls me down the beach, and I'm wondering where he's taking me.

“
Yes, madly,” I roll my eyes. “I'm going to call it
Stephan Montgomery is a Douchetard
.”

“
That hurt.” He pulls out his phone. “My Twitter has been blowing up ever since you tweeted me. A lot of 14 year old's are calling me a perv right now.”

“
You
are
a perv,” I agree.

“
Speaking of... We were going to finish this conversation about you want in my pants...”

I pull out my phone, and ignore him. I'm about to scroll read the Tweets when he snatches my phone, and takes off running down the beach.

“HEY!” I run after him, but can't catch up. Two minutes later, he stops, and hands me my phone. I punch his arm.

“
That hurt,” he says, rubbing the spot I hit.

I look at my Twitter and see that he has tweeted from my account.

OMG. @Stephan_Montgomery is the hottest guy like, EVER! And for the record, I totally want in his pants.

I feel the fury build up inside of me, and I am beyond pissed.

“I HAVE
34 MILLION FUCKING FOLLOWERS
!” I scream, and then I punch him as hard as I can in the eye. He falls over in the sand, and covers his eye with his hand.

“
Ouch.”

“
I hate you
,” I say for the third time since meeting him, then I turn my back and run away as fast as I can. I spend the rest of the night explaining to people that somebody hacked my Twitter, and I have no clue who @Stephan_Montgomery is.

And that I definitely
DON'T
want in his pants.

Because I really don't.

Or, at least that's what I'm telling myself.

Tuesday, September 8

8am

You are my hero.

I slip in the desk beside Ethan just as the bell rings.

“You gave my brother a black eye,” he whispers. At first I think he's mad, but then he holds up his knuckle, and I bump mine against his. “You are my hero.”

“
Is it bad?” I ask, biting my lip.

Ok, I realize that maybe I overreacted just a little bit, but I've got pride. I'm not about to apologize to him.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “But he totally deserved it.”

Finally his eyes drift behind me, and I look back. Bob, my 6'7, 320 pound security guard, is standing behind me. He's very intimidating. He's so bad ass that he has a tattoo of a dragon with flames coming out of its mouth on his bald head. I know he's here to protect me, but I'm kind of scared of him at the same time. Maybe it's the fact that he could snap my 5'1”, not quite 100 pound body in half with one hand.

“This is Bob.”

Ethan nods in Bob's direction, but Bob doesn't acknowledge him. He's mysterious like that.

“I need your help, Ethan.”

“
With what?” He asks, still looking at Bob.

“
I want to fit in.” I say.

Ethan's eyes focus on me, and he laughs. “You're kidding right?” I glare at him, and he stops laughing. “Well, Scarlett, you are a rock star, and I'm pretty sure once people get over the initial shock of you, you will be the most popular girl in school.”

I roll my eyes. “I don't want to be popular. I've seen Mean Girls, and being popular sounds rather torturous. Besides, I'm kind of a band geek. You know, I
am
a musician. I'm more than just a pretty face who sings.”

“
Trust me, I know.”

I finally notice the teacher in the front talking. I've been back here talking to Ethan for almost 10 minutes, and neither of us have gotten in trouble. I want to scream. This is
exactly
what I was talking about, special treatment because I'm a rock star. I don't want it! Well, I sort of do, but
not really
! I need to prove to myself that I can do this on my own. I want to be able to get in trouble just like every other kid. I want to get detention.

I pay attention through the rest of class, and try not to fall asleep. I'm wondering why they would have a History class at 8am. C'mon, at least give people time to wake up before you start with the boring crap.

Bob walks behind Ethan and me as we walk to algebra. I'm thinking how much I hate my morning lineup of classes. Math makes my brain hurt.

As we sit in class, I try hard to figure out what the hell the teacher is talking about, but by the end of class all the numbers are running together. I rub the temples of my head, trying to make the headache go away.

“I can help you with math,” Ethan offers.

“
Really?” I'm actually really excited that he offers.

“
Yeah. Come over tonight.”

I laugh. “You sure Mr. Snarky won't mind?”

He shakes his head. “Please, he's probably scared of you after you gave him that black eye. Finally, a girl tougher than my bad ass stepbrother.”

“
Ok. I'll see you at...” I cut off, asking him what time.

“
Seven,” he confirms.

11:00 am

Damn conscience.

When I walk into Study Hall, I take my seat and ignore Stephan Montgomery. Well, I do take a quick peek at his eye and see that it
is
in fact
black
. I can see that I decked him pretty good, and for this, I feel bad... Even though he
totally
deserved it.

I feel a tap on my back, and turn around in my seat. “What do you want?” I ask through gritted teeth. He smiles at me, and I hate how my heart
reacts to him. One smile, and I'm putty in his (
very sexy
) hands.

“
Tonight, you and me.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively, and once again, I curse the butterflies in my stomach.

“
Can't, I'm busy.”

“
I meant after you're finished doing math with my extremely nerdy stepbrother.”

Does he know everything? Like, seriously. Ethan and me planned this less than an hour ago. How does he already know?

“You know, I really
don't
like you.”

“
Keep telling yourself that, Blondie.”

“
Do you want your left eye to match your right one?” I ask.

He narrows his eyes at me. “If you weren't a girl, I would have punched you back.”

“So you're sexist too?” I laugh, and then focus my eyes on the front of the class,
trying
to ignore the extremely annoying guy behind me. Stephan taps me again.

“
Please
, will you hang out with me tonight?” He is sincere as he asks.

Dammit, why do his lips have to be so sexy? And his smoldering green eyes are freaking distracting. I say, “No,” but I'm nodding my head
yes.

He smiles. “See you tonight,
Blondie.”

During class, I
actually
pull out my math book. I'm trying to make sense of everything, but honestly, I can't even focus. I'm thinking about the boy behind me with a black eye. I'm fairly certain he is the type of guy Monica warned me to “not fall in love with”.  Not that I'm in love with him. I don't even
like
him. I don't know why I can't seem to tell him
no
. It shouldn't be this hard.

And dammit, if I didn't get a conscience. I couldn't help but feel guilty about giving him a black eye. It was a little extreme. All he did was update my Twitter. It wouldn't have even been a big deal if I was a normal teenager. But I'm not. And it's my career he's messing with.