Chain Reaction 4.9: Famous

 

Brent

     I can't believe this is real! The other day at a house party, my dad's cousin caught John and me singing a karaoke duet. Normally, that wouldn't be a big deal, but this guy happens to own a record label! Dad explained to me that meant he produces music instead of sticky labels talking about world records. Why not just call it a music production company then?

     Anyway, John and I are here to talk to him for serious. He's already talked to our parents. Mine were okay with it. I might become famous! Our family's kinda used to that, so it was no big deal to them. However, John's parents weren't so hot on the idea of him becoming famous. I had to do some serious begging in order for him to be here. Part of the draw for this group Dad's cousin is making is that cousins are going to be in it!

     Then Dad's cousin said something like John would help draw attention because he's cute. Wait. That's my shtick, right? I'm going to be the cute one. Because, obviously, I'm doing this for the girls.

     ANYway, the guy promised high security, and eventually, Aunt Lottie and Uncle Jarvis caved. Yay!

     A lady at a desk greets us when we walk in. "Hi, boys. Welcome to Goth Records. I'll let Mr. Goth know you're here."

     "Thanks." I grin. I'm going to be famous. Then I notice a really muscular dude with an earpiece standing in the corner. He doesn't smile, and I wonder if the lady in front of me finds that weird. Then I wonder if the two of them flirt when 'Mr. Goth' isn't looking. Probably.

     "Hey, guys. Welcome to my home away from home," Dad's cousin says as a way to greet us when he walks out of his office.

     I like him. He's like thirty or something, but he's still cool. "Hi!" I say. Crap, I forgot his first name! 

     John saves me. "Hi, Alaric."

     Alaric motions for us to join him in his office, and we follow him in there before he tells the pretty older lady to hold his calls. Really? If someone calls, she's supposed to have them holding on the line the whole time? People must really want to talk to him in order to put up with that.

      John and I take seats in plush red chairs while he sits at his desk. He looks totally in his element, and I have a really good feeling about this. I'm so going to be famous.

     Looking to my left, I see he has a picture, kind of a promotional picture, of my cousin-somehow-I-don't-know-how Benjamin. Oh yeah. Ben's in the music biz too. He's only kinda famous. I guess to myself that this other cousin-no-idea-don't-ask of mine represents him.

     The guy starts talking, "I'll have you meet the other guys in a minute, but first, I wanted to talk to you both alone." He means without our parents, I'm guessing. "I've gotten your parents' signatures, but I wanted to talk to you about what all this will entail. If everything goes to plan, your lives are about to change significantly."

     "We're going to be famous, you mean," I finish/translate for him.

     He laughs in a good way. "Yes, that's the plan. I mean, your parents are, so that really helps. The public has been curious about you for ages now." He turns to John. "And you can really sing. Where have you been hiding that?"

     John blushes like a tomato. "I... I don't know. I didn't really know I could."

     "Well, you have a natural talent."

     I speak up. "Do I have a natural talent?" 

      The guy shrugs. (I think I forgot his name again!) "Well, that remains to be seen."

      John lightly chuckles next to me. I huff. Translation: No, but we can work on that. 

      "Back to what I was saying earlier," the guy continues. "You know you're withdrawing from school, right?" We nod. "You'll have a private tutor; although, your 'school calendar' will be greatly different from what a normal teen's would be, but your academic requirements will be met." He looks particularly at John because he knows I don't care about that. The only thing I'll miss about school is girls, but hopefully, being famous means I can expand my girl horizons.

      John asks, "You said this was a band. Will we play instruments?" He can kind of play the piano.

      The guy ?Albrecht? smiles. "It's not that kind of band. There are three other guys waiting to meet you in the living room. Ben is one of them."

      "He is?" I ask with a note of surprise.

      "Sure is. He decided to put his solo career on hold for this." He clears his throat. "Anyway, ready to go meet them or do you have any more questions?"

      "Nope! Where do I sign?" I grin.

      John and I slap down our signatures, and we exit the office. The office building is actually more like a house that's been converted. I like it. This is my new boss man's more comfy smaller building.

      We walk down a small hallway (the muscle dude adjusts his position in the front room so he can watch us--creepy!), and ?Almeric? introduces the other guys. We know Ben, of course, but there's a blond dude named Carrick and another guy named Jake. Jake has earrings and painted fingernails. They both look older than Ben, but Ben's really only like eighteen or something.

     "Fellas, this is Brent and John, who will finish out the group."

     Jake sizes us up. "Aw, they're babies!"

     I scowl, and he laughs. We all have a seat. I have to pull over a stool from the kitchen counter.

      "So, I've decided to personally be your band manager in addition to my other duties, at least for the time being. I really want this to be a success. Also, judging from recent research, I'm going to go with one of my original possibilities for the band name. Welcome to 5 Ever, gentlemen."

      Jake turns to Carrick. "Because 5 Ever is longer than FORever."

      Carrick giggles. "I'll love you 5 Ever, Jake!"

      The two of them crack up laughing now, but ?Alduin? keeps a straight face. "Precisely, and in fact, I have a crew working on a song with just that title, minus the Jake part, of course."

      John smiles. "I like it."

      Boss-man smiles back. "Good because a large part of our target demographic is teens about your age or younger."

      Jake asks how old John is. Fifteen. Then he finds out he, Ben, and I are cousins. Well, Ben is not a first cousin (?or he is?).

     Carrick turns to Jake. "So it looks like we're the only ones without the family connection."

     "Right," he replies. "We got in on pure talent."

     Ben's voice sounds stern. "Guys, they're going to think you're serious, so stop trying to look like a jerk." He looks at the two of us. "They think they're comedians."

     Carrick folds his arms, pretending to be outraged. "That's because we are!"

     "Cool it," boss man says, and everyone looks at him again.

      "You're all talented, or you wouldn't be here," he continues.

      Yay! That means me too! I smile.

      Then ?Akeem? explains our upcoming schedule. He wants to work with us individually before having us work as a group so that he can plan ahead for parts. This is really happening! We get issued a preliminary schedule, subject to change as needed. I glance at it and notice something that makes me smile: photo shoot. Now that's something I have a natural aptitude for. I close my eyes and imagine my face plastered all over a hot girl's bedroom walls. She takes her clothes off in front of my pictures every night. She--

    "Brent," boss man interrupts my fantasy, "would you and Ben come upstairs for a few? I want to work on something right now, if you don't mind."

     "Sure, boss." I smile.

     He smirks. "Just Alaric is fine."

     Upstairs he has a small sound studio. He says he likes the "sound" of the room. Rooms have sound? Anyway, he has me sing some really popular songs because he knows I'd know them, and Benjamin plays the piano for me.

     Um, maybe I don't have a natural talent for singing. I'm actually kind of wishing I could go hide in a hole somewhere right now, and I stop singing.

     "What is it?" Boss man asks.

     "I suck."

     Ben turns to me. "Let's do it again. This time, close your eyes."

     I roll my eyes. "Sure."

      To my surprise, though, it actually does help. I just pretend I'm someone else, a future me, someone who's totally cool with this. I'm still not very good, but I don't think I suck as badly this time.

      If I can't sing, why did this guy want me in the band? And Ben now knows how I can't sing, but I don't think he'd rat me out.

      Then it occurs to me: my parents. My dad is a supermodel, and my mom is a well-known actress. And there's the cousin thing. I'm the lowest common denominator or whatever to mean I'm just a missing piece in whatever kind of scheme boss man has come up with in his head. At the same time, I'm just 'the challenge.' It bums me out.

     Ben suddenly switches the song, something with a faster tempo, and I catch on quickly. I come in with a verse of the song I know, and it's not bad.

     In an interlude, Ben smiles and says, "That's it. Just sing with your voice. Don't try to sound like someone else, and don't push your voice."

 

     My Goth cousin puts the headphones up to his ear again, and I decide to take that as a good sign. He starts pushing buttons on whatever that is in front of him, and I sing for a bit more before he tells me to stop. Then he plays back what I just sang.

     "That's my voice? It doesn't sound like me."

     Ben chuckles. "It never does. That's because what we hear is literally in our own heads. This is what people hear."

     "Okay."

     Later, boss man schedules me some voice lessons in addition to the group lessons. I'm going to have to work harder than anyone else. I just hope it's worth it.

     I'm going to be famous. Of course it'll be. 

John

     While Ben, Alaric, and Brent go upstairs to do whatever, I get to know my fellow bandmates I don't know yet: Carrick and Jake. Jake is twenty-one, and Carrick is twenty-two. No wonder they called me a baby. They don't act too mature, though, and with a simple game of foosball, we start becoming friends.

      "Let's go make a snowperson," Jake recommends. 

      "Okay." I momentarily worry about security outside, but then I remind myself that nobody knows me. Yet.

     With the way Brent talks, we're going to be mobbed by girls everywhere we go. The thought of that terrifies me. It's not like I don't want to do this. I do, but only as long as all the focus isn't on me. I like to sing, and I don't think I have stage fright. But I don't want the crazy that comes with being famous. I watch Uncle Mike and Aunt Ivy deal with it, and they always act annoyed. In essence, I'm a bit torn by it all, but here I go!

      I flop down in the newly-fallen snow while the other guys work on their snowperson.

      "What are you going to do with your first paycheck, Carrick?" Jake asks.

      "The first one? What else? Pay off all this debt I have. Eventually, I want to buy a house in the country."

      Jake chuckles. "A country boy, huh?" He's from Mt. Komorebi, and his parents run a hotel there. "I'm over that. I want a nice apartment right in the city center of somewhere happening. It's got to be ultra-modern. And I want a sports car of some kind. I can't decide. Maybe I'll buy one of everything."

      "Well, I hope we're as big a hit as Alaric says we're going to be." Pause. "Hey, John, what about you?"

      "Huh? Oh, you mean what am I going to do?" I sigh. "I have no idea."

      Jake smiles. "That's okay. You're just a kid anyway."

      Carrick mutters, "Jail-bait." He clears his throat, "But you're the right age for this target whatever Alaric mentioned."

      I smile. "I'm sure women your age will like us too, and it's good that there's a range of ages, right?"

      Jake giggles. "Carrick doesn't care if women are interested in him."

     He ponders the snowperson. "But that's okay. I'll take them off his hands."

     "So you two know each other from before?" I ask then find out they used to have a band. Jake can play the guitar, and Carrick played the bass guitar. Their drummer went and got married, and the band fell apart.

      "But we were never very successful. I have a good feeling with this label, though. Alaric is smart. You can just see it. There hasn't been a successful, new boy band in about twenty years, so we'll be slapping the market in the face and giving it a re-awakening." Jake finishes off the snowperson, giving her a hat and stuff. "And we'll be the ones leading the way for this generation."

     Carrick speaks up. "Gonna be weird just singing, though."

     Jake smiles. "And dancing."

     He rolls his eyes. "Don't remind me."

 

     I smile. "You can't dance?" I'm not that great at it, but if someone choreographs something, I'm betting I can hold my own.
     Jake giggles. "Not unless he's trying to impersonate a zombie. He flops around like a doll."

     Carrick gives him a kind of smirking glare. "Thanks, asshole."

     "You know you love me." He grins. "And watch your mouth around the children."

     I smirk. "Say whatever the plum you want."

     They both crack up. Jake holds his stomach and cries out, "I like him!" 

     Carrick sighs. "We really need a chance to get to know all of us. Like that Ben. What's his deal, anyway?"

     Jake doesn't answer, but a look comes across his face. 

      "Let's go on a trip!" he says excitedly.

      I watch him. "What about that schedule we just got handed to us?"

      "Oh, come on! What's a week? Carrick's right. We need to get to know each other. We could use my family's vacation home!" He smiles. "It couldn't hurt to ask, could it?"

     To my surprise, Alaric likes Jake's idea, so the five of us travel to Mt. Komorebi.

      Jake happily opens up the front door, talking animatedly.

      "Hey, Brent," Ben says with a laugh, "stay there. It looks like I'm punching you in the head."

      "Oh you're so funny," he replies sarcastically.

      We go inside.

      "Is the sun ever going to rise?" Carrick asks, looking wistfully out the windows. We arrived about four a.m. local time, and most things don't open up to the public until later.

      Jake looks at Brent's socks. "I guess with a sweater like that, having crazy socks shouldn't surprise me."

     Brent smiles. "Hey, at least they match!"

     Jake's idea was brilliant. The five of us spend time doing things on our own and together. I think it's important that we gel before we hit the studio for real.

     I relax even though I was unaware I was tense about this. I guess it makes sense: I'm about to spend a lot of time with these guys.

     However, the next day, Jake storms into the house in a real mood. He'd told us in the morning that he'd planned on visiting his parents.

 

      "Tradition can kiss my ass!" is all he'll say, ranting.

      Eventually, Ben gets him to open up.

     Today, during his visit, his parents ambushed him, forcing him to meet, talk to, spend time with this girl, a daughter of one of his parents' friends. Well, acquaintances. The whole thing smacks of arranged marriage, something they never came out and said.

     Crap. Just when we're getting started, we get thrown this curve ball.

     "I told them to kiss my ass! Yes! Those exact words! I'm not even thinking about that at this point in my life! Let's go back to Eden. I want to get as far away from them as possible."

     "But this is only our third day," Ben reasons. "Look, they can't force you down the aisle during the week. Just steer clear of them."

     He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Fine."

     The rest of the week, he spends a lot of time on the phone arguing with his father, but eventually, he wins the argument. I'm not happy his relationship with his parents has soured, but I'm happy he stood up for himself.

     Because I want this to happen. I'm excited. Oh, I'm not going nuts about girls like Brent is, like how Brent's always been, but I'm looking forward to the next phase in my life's journey.

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Phew! Wow, it's fun to write Brent's pov. It really reminds me of how Ethan felt as a teen. Anyway, to answer some of his musings, he and John are first cousins, obviously. He and Alaric are first cousins once removed, with the same being true of he and Ben since Mike, Alaric, and Ben are first cousins and he's Mike's son. (same is all true of John too btw)

And yes, I used that house in Windenburg that the I-can't-remember-their-names music people live in. I just obviously changed a few bits to suit me. (because anything I can do to make less work for myself is preferred cuz "ugh, effort." :D ) (did anyone recognize Marco's cousin? I love re-using extras.)

Towards the end of this chapter, it feels like how someone might do it if the expansion pack is new. It isn't, obviously, and it's not even new to me. I just don't get to do that stuff much since I focus on my stories.

I'll also say that other chapters shouldn't be as long as this one. I just wanted to include as much as I possibly could to get things rolling with 5 Ever.

Because John and Brent aren't the only ones excited!

Chain Reaction 4.8: Dry

 A/N: First of all, I'm not dead. :) December 2021, I got COVID (prob omicron if that matters). I had basically the worst flu I've ever had, but it did stuff to me, to my brain. It ruined my imagination. Weird, huh? I couldn't come up with stuff. Plus, there are so many chapters of this story that I absolutely HATE now. However, I think I can continue it. Stuff I'd written years ago will probably never be published, or maybe I can clean them up. In other words: the feel of this story is changing. It has to. I've changed. Good? Bad? Dunno. For now, let's just see if I can pull a story out of this brain of mine.

I'm going to start by using some Goth pics that I'd never managed to work in. I remember a kind of storyline that I'd debated whether or not to use. Well, I'm going to. Character motivation and all. In a way, I apologize ahead of time.

-----------

 Alaric

     It feels like a lifetime ago that I attended that university. Often, I wonder if it was even necessary. Sure, I learned business... stuff, but they were things I could've learned on the go. 

     Time flies as it always does.

      .... The Maker can't find any pictures of just Darius as a tot. Also, apparently, she'd been playing on the mac most recently, and the mac somehow deleted all the game files! Luckily, there is a backup, but it's two months before the following pictures were taken. Still, they apply to the story, and things shouldn't be too hard to re-create from a more-recent save on the desktop. 

     Anyway, Darius ages to tot. The Maker lost those pics. Here's one she scrounged from familyecho:

     Not too long after, Kyra is once again expecting.

     We have a girl named Penelope. Then she ages to tot.

     Here is time flying again.

     Sometimes, he reminds me of Dad.

     Just like Penelope reminds me of Mom. Did I have my parents?

     She's so inquisitive. We can't just read a bedtime story to her. We have to explain everything.

     Even though I'm very busy with the growing success of my label, I try to stay at home as much as possible.

     Mom is ever quick to remind me that she's available whenever we need her.

     I like being at home, though.

     I do, however, accept her help when I have the crazy idea to throw a house party.

     Dad can tell my stress level has gotten higher, and I tell him I thought this party would be a good way to lessen it. I've been struggling with a plan of mine that I can't quite get right. It's missing something, something to make it stand out against times in the past when the same thing has been done. I need a new twist, a new gimmick, to breathe new life into an old concept.

     The party isn't helping, but as it's already started, I try to be as good a host as I can, ready for it to be over. People have fun. One of my new talent scouts fiddles around at the piano, and my new receptionist gets to know some of my family. A few of them try out my karaoke machine.

     I chuckle as I listen to Mike's son Brent try to carry the melody in a duet he and his cousin John end up doing. Mike, Ivy, and Darrin had to decline the invite due to work, but I'm happy Brent came. I've never really had much to do with him since that awful episode when he was abducted. The press still tries to get the lowdown on him, on how the child who was abducted aged, especially considering his parents' fame, but his parents work hard to keep him from being hounded.

    Then John's turn to take charge of the song comes about.

     Plumbob. The kid can sing! I don't even think he realizes how good he is. It's almost sad how they can be first cousins and differ so much in musical talent. Sure, Brent isn't terrible, but...

     Cousins. That's it!

 

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A/N: I AM SO SORRY for how dry that was. I know, apologies get annoying, but it's killing me. Still, I'm hoping it's like a muscle: ya gotta exercise it to make it stronger. It's still there. I just have to dig it out. Bear with me, please.

The next chapters were written years ago, even if I'm going to edit them a bit, so they shouldn't be as tough to get through. I'm really excited to finally release them soon.

Click here to go to 4.9

Chain Reaction 4.7: Dance

 

 

 

Brylee

     "Jerk alert," Aspen tells me quietly. We're on our way to lunch, stopping for a minute to look at today's menu.

      "Gooooo bulldogs!" Scott cheers, throwing confetti up into the air, littering the hallway.

      Crap. "Hi, Scott."

      Aspen gives him the side-eye. "Bye, Scott."

      He gives her a scowl. "You two aren't pumped we made it into the championship?"

      She rolls her eyes. "No, we don't eat, drink, and smoke on the skill of your throwing arm." Scott's the quarterback. And captain. Of course. "And you won't make friends with the janitor by throwing crap into the air like that."

      His eyes move to a bit of a glare. "I'm trying to be festive." 

      I think that meant he's trying to be celebratory.

      He turns to me, a smile replacing the glare.

       "So, Brylee there's that dance after the pep rally on Friday."

       Aspen groans, but he ignores her.

       "And I don't have a date. Care to do the honors?" He asks like he expects me to giggle and clap my hands for joy.

       OMM. He's never actually asked me out before. Crap. "Uh-uhm. I think I have... plans." I look at my best friend. Help! 

      But Aspen's already on it. "Yeah. She's planning on going to the new housing development to watch paint dry."

      He smiles. "Oh get real. I'm serious, Brylee. Why not come to the dance with me?" He reaches down and gets my hand. "We could have a good time." His thumb brushes the back of my hand, making my skin crawl. I jerk free of his grasp.

      "I'm busy."

      He reaches up and brushes some of my hair behind my shoulder. "We could go as friends." His hand holds my shoulder like a claw. "It'll be so much more fun if you're there."

      I take a step back, pushing away his hand, and Aspen loses her temper.

     "When are you ever going to get it? She's not interested!"

      He finally turns to her. "Who said anything about being 'interested'? I'm asking her as a friend."

      "Ugh!"

      I speak up. "If I'm just going to go with a friend, I'll go with Aspen."

      She gives him what could only be called a Cheshire Cat grin. "There you are, then." Her arm wraps around my waist. "Buzz off."

      He lets out a huff and rolls his eyes, ignoring her once more. "Brylee, okay, so I wasn't asking as a friend. I don't know why I said that. It's just a dance, and it's definitely more fun than whatever she's got planned."

 

      Plum. I have to be blunt. "I'm sorry, Scott. No."

      He wilts for just a second before recovering. "Oh, sure, yeah. No problemo. I'll just ask that freshman Jenna or whatever her name is. Whatever. Have fun watching paint dry." He throws a scathing look in Aspen's direction.

      Aspen doesn't let it go. "Anything's more fun when you're not around."

     Later, at lunch, I see that Scott did ask the other girl out, and she attaches herself to him like a tick. He keeps glancing over at me, and I'm irritated with myself how I keep glancing back. Ugh!

     This evening, we have a small party for Elle and Brent as they age to teen.

     Elle kind of looks like a mix of everyone and Brent... really looks like Uncle Mike.

     Why does aging to teen have to be such a drastic change?

 

    At any rate, we all go to a restaurant nearby, and towards the end of it, I step outside to get some air.

 

     I'm pouting, and I can't figure out why. It was a shock seeing my little sister and cousin age up, but is that a reason to pout? Am I having some weird mid-teen crisis thing like now I feel old?

     I just feel... sad. And none of my little tricks are working right now.

     Maybe it's because I can feel adulthood creeping up on me, and with that comes adult life. As in, I'm probably going to get married and kids and stuff and then I'll just get older then die. What's the point?

     And I don't know if I want to get married. There's not a single guy I could possibly imagine myself being interested in. I'm not even gaga over famous guys that girls at school drool over. I've never even wanted a boyfriend for plum's sake!

      There's probably something wrong with me. That's it. That's nature telling me that I'm the end of the line for my bit of the family tree. I'm just too odd. My brain's all screwed up. 

      Depression is a bitch.

      I should probably get back inside. Mom and Dad are going to wonder where I am. I just had to escape Mom's scrutiny for a few minutes. Whenever I get like this, she hones in like a vulture on carrion.

      "Brylee?"

      I jump and turn towards the voice. It's Scott.

      "Where did you come from?" he asks. "You don't live around here, do you?" He sees the restaurant. "Oh yeah. Tony's."

      "Yeah. It's my little sister's age up party." I get up from the picnic table. "I should probably get back inside."

      "Before you do," he calls out because I can't walk away fast enough, "could I talk to you for a sec?"

      I guess I'm just too nice. I can hear all the ways that Aspen would reply in a snarky way, but I just pause, turn to him, and ask, "What about?" Nice though I am, I still move a few steps back when he approaches me.

      He notices, and he crosses his arms in front of himself.

 

     "I want to talk about what happened before lunch today."

     Crap. "Scott, I just flat-out don't want to go to the dance."

      "Then why not say that instead of letting Aspen do the talking for you?" Then he mutters under his breath, "Again."

      I look at his shoes. "I didn't know what to say."

      He lets out a huff. "Brylee, we've been friends for years." We have? "If Aspen's bullying gets out of hand, you know you can come to me, right?"

       I scowl. "What?" Since when is Aspen a bully? "She's not."

       He unfolds his arms. "She's not? She sucks up every second of your time. Haven't you noticed you hardly spend any time with Cohen or Jessica? I can't remember a time we've had a conversation where she wasn't cutting in with her attitude. And you just let it happen like you approve. What kind of hold does she have on you? It's getting to where you don't do anything without first getting her approval."

       I give him a look. "I don't need her approval. That's ridiculous."

       "Then why let her talk to me like that? I get that she hates me, and I don't care. But... do you hate me?" He folds his arms again.

     "No, I don't hate you." I don't particularly like him, though, but I don't want to be mean. He creeps me out.

     "Then don't treat me like dirt, okay?"

     "I wasn't meaning to. Sorry." I pause. "And I need to get back inside." I try to walk past him, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist. I spin around in shock, pulling my wrist back, but he has a vice grip on it. He pulls me back to him.

 

      "Why do you hate me?" he asks, reaching up and holding my cheek with his other hand.

      "I don't." Well, I might.

      "What did I do that makes you flinch every time I touch you?"

      I pull on my arm again. "Well, maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm not asking for it?" I remember back in middle school how I'd asked him to stop touching me and hating the hurt look on his face. He'd stopped, but over the past years, he's gradually gone right back to the way he was when I was in seventh and he was in eighth grade.

      "You've never had to ask." He responds to my tugging. "Brylee, please, I'm holding you like this because I can never get you to talk to me otherwise. You always manage to slip away before I can get to it." His grip loosens a fraction. "I'd hoped I could have a chance at the dance."

      "Scott..." I don't know what to say exactly.

       But he does.

     "I adore you, Brylee. Ever since middle school. You're so beautiful, and when you smile... Watcher, you light up the world. All I've ever wanted was for you to like me back. I've tried so many times to get your attention, get you to notice me. What more do I have to do?" He's seconds from kissing me if I don't do something.

      "I don't want a relationship right now." Or maybe ever.

      He stops his attempt to kiss me. "With anybody? Or just me?"

      "I... don't know." No idea why I don't just tell him.

      He sighs. "Okay. I'll wait." A smile covers his face suddenly. "But so you know, you're the one I want, so don't believe anything else you see or hear. I don't really care about Jenna. Trust me, all you have to do is snap your fingers, and I'm yours."

      A picture pops into my mind. "Well, wouldn't the team be entertained by that?" I smirk.

      He laughs. "I don't care."

      I hear Dad call out my name. Phew. There's a better excuse than just 'leave me the plum alone.' "I gotta go."

      "Okay." He kisses my hand.

      "Stop it," I snap and successfully yank myself free. Then I watch his face fall.

      "Sorry."

      I start to walk away, but Aspen's voice in my head makes me stop. I can't leave it at this. So, I turn to him. "Don't wait for me, Scott. I'm not interested. I'm sorry. I don't like you like that, and I doubt I ever will." Well, that's why I haven't done it yet. The crushed expression on his face tears me up inside that I could do that to someone. I try so hard to fight off the sadness that I disadvantage myself when it comes to preventing hurt feelings anywhere.

      I'm a monster. Why couldn't I just do it better than that? I've spent so much trying to keep from hurting his feelings even though he's always bothered me, but I can't find another way to do it. And the fact that I can't find another way to do it just proves that I'm a monster.

      I make my way over to my family, carefully avoiding my parents' eyes. I know they're curious, but thank the Maker, they don't ask questions.