“Where did you get all this makeup anyway? It’s awesome!” Megan picks up my pot of NARS foundation and a gold bronzing palette.
It’s all the stuff I got from Leah at Sephora. “Oh . . . a friend helped me pick them out. To be honest, I don’t know what half of it does.”
“Well, if you ever want to donate any of it to a worthy home—”
“I know where to find you.” I finish her sentence.
When it’s time to leave, we hop into a taxi that takes us straight to Brighton Station, where we meet up with Kira and Amara. We all buy smoothies from Marks & Spencer, then jump on the train to London. Surprisingly, we’re able to get a table seat. It’s really nice being with all three of them, like old times. It’s refreshing to have friends I can just talk to about normal stuff—discussing boys from school, Year Eleven dramas, and what we are all going to do now we are venturing into kind of serious, grown-up territory.
“Do you think Blake will be there today?” Megan looks at me from across the table and does a strange winky face.
“Um . . . as in Noah’s drummer?” Just hearing her say his name makes my skin crawl.
“Yeah, he’s really hot. I might stand a little bit of a chance there, especially since you can introduce me again.” She smiles and laughs.
“Yeah, of course I can, but . . . he’s not good news, Meg. He’s more of a bad boy.”
“PENNY! I sometimes wonder if you know me at all!” She laughs again, but this time a lot more loudly. “You know I love a bad boy. They’re always far more interesting. You will introduce me again, won’t you?” Her tone changes slightly towards the end of her sentence and I feel the old Megan could be rising inside her like a demon.
“No, really, Megan. Blake came on to me when we were in Paris. He tried to kiss me but I managed to get away before it got too far.”
I can see the confusion on Megan’s face—and the insecure voice in my brain says it’s because she also can’t believe Blake would go for someone like me. But then Kira speaks up. “Seriously? That’s awful, Penny!”
“Is that why you and Noah broke up?” Megan asks.
“Sort of . . .” I say.
“I can’t believe he broke up with you and didn’t dump that greasy hanger-on of a friend,” says Megan. She’s obviously decided to turn on Mega-Bitch mode towards Blake, and I couldn’t be more grateful. “Noah better apologize today. You’re way too good for him.”
“That’s so true,” says Amara. “No guy is worth you if he won’t stand up for you!”
I can’t help the blush spreading across my cheeks. I’ve never been more happy to have such great girlfriends by my side.
A voice comes over the train PA system, letting us know that we are minutes from London Victoria.
“I’m so excited to get there!” says Kira. “This festival is supposed to be awesome. What time are we heading back later?”
“I don’t know,” says Amara, “but The Halo Pixies aren’t on until five.”
“I probably won’t stay for the whole day, guys. I’m just going to find Noah and then come back home,” I say, watching the world speed by outside of the train window. I know that the conversation with Noah is going to be enough to send me into an exhaustion coma. “I don’t think I can stand to be at the festival for very long. Crowds aren’t really my thing, remember? Shall we meet to say goodbye at three, after I’ve spoken with Noah?” I look down at my phone. That definitely gives me enough time to get out of there before he takes to the stage.
“Sure thing!” Kira says, smiling widely. “Maybe we can go get waffles? I had the best food last time I was there.”
“I heard they have a pop-up blow-dry bar!” says Megan. “Maybe we can get our hair done before we see the boys?”
I tug at my hair, which hasn’t seen much styling since I left Paris. It certainly doesn’t have the beautiful sheen that Leah Brown’s stylists managed to get into it. But I’m not going to waste any time faffing around—I just want to see Noah, get out, and go.
My phone buzzes with a text.
The tickets are waiting for you at the east gate, under your name. See you soon—come to the VIP area to the left of the main stage and Larry will find you when you arrive. N
Suddenly the swarm of butterflies in my stomach that has been lying dormant the whole train journey wakes up in a complete frenzy. The train pulls into Victoria Station and I prepare to be face-to-face with Noah once again.
Chapter Fifty-Three
We stop just outside the east gate of Hyde Park, and wait in line to pick up my and Megan’s tickets. Thankfully they are behind the desk, just as Noah said.
As we walk through the gates of the park, I’m amazed by how big—and busy—it is. I’m grateful that Kira and Amara squeeze me tightly between them, making a Penny sandwich and protecting me from the crowds.
I can hear the tinny blast of music rising from the stage, which is still quite far away from us. Food trucks and stalls selling band T-shirts and feather headbands line both sides of the path that leads through to the main stage. It’s chaotic and frenzied and basically exactly the kind of atmosphere that I dislike. I wish Noah and I could have arranged to meet somewhere outside the festival. Why didn’t I just meet him at his hotel? Or at the airport? Or anywhere other than here?
As we near the main stage, Kira and Amara head over to the blow-dry bar, but Megan sticks to my side like glue.
“Do you know where you need to go?” Megan looks over at me.
I pull out my phone. “Noah said that the VIP area is to the left of the stage, and that Larry should be there to meet us.”
Megan is playing with her waterfall braid, trying to make sure that every strand is perfect. “Who’s Larry? Is he another band member?” She pulls out a tube of pink lip gloss and reapplies it for the millionth time.
I laugh. “No. That’s Larry.” I point as Larry’s lumbering, imposing form strides across the park to meet us. He parts crowds of people as if his bald head is the sparking prow of a ship cutting through the waves. He spots me and a grin breaks out on his face—equally as big as the grin that’s on mine.
Megan almost stops in her tracks, but I run over to Larry and embrace him in a big hug.
“Penny! So good to see you.”
“You too, Larry. This is my friend Megan,” I say, gesturing to her even though she’s gone completely quiet. “Larry is Noah’s security on set.”
“I’m glad I found you in this crazy crowd. Come on, I have strict instructions to make sure you don’t get lost.”
With Larry as our guide, I feel so much safer. He leads us round to a nondescript fence, where a man is slumped in a chair. It’s an inconspicuous entrance to the backstage area, but then I guess if you put up a lit-up sign saying MUSICIANS HERE then you’d be asking for trouble.
Once we pass through the gate, Larry hands us our backstage passes, and Megan’s face lights up when she sees hers.
“Will you be all right here on your own for a bit, Megan, while I go and see Noah?” It’s a stupid question, as she’s dashed off almost before I’ve finished the question.
“Noah will be free in about five minutes,” Larry says.
I take a deep breath.
“Are you OK, Penny?” Larry looks at me, a concerned frown on his face.
“I’ll be fine, Larry,” I say, trying to sound braver than I feel. “I just have to get this over with.”
He nods. “I’m glad I have a moment to talk to you. Is this yours?” He takes something out of his pocket, and I recognize it immediately: it’s my phone. It still has the bright pink cover on it, with the stars that Noah drew in Sharpie round the edges.
“Oh my god, where did you find this?” I turn it over and over in my hand, staring at it like it’s a foreign object.
“I found it in Dean’s room.”
“In Dean’s room? Why would Dean have it?”
Larry nods. His face is more serious than I have ever seen it; he looks more like a body
guard than ever before. This is not the fun, happy Larry that I’m used to.
“Do you think someone could have put it there? A . . . crazy fan or something? My photos were stolen from this phone—the ones that someone used to threaten me and my friends.”
“I know, Penny. I think Dean has had this the entire time.”
“Oh,” I say, my voice sounding small. If that’s true then that means . . .
I don’t have time to dwell on it, as I hear Noah shout my name. I want to tell him my theory about the phone straightaway. But the last time I saw him all I did was accuse and argue; and I know I need to hear him out first. I slip it into my handbag, knowing I will come back to it later.
My heart is pounding at a million beats per minute. This is it: everything I’ve been imagining and building up in my head is about to be played out in real life. I need to keep calm and stay cool.
He walks over to us, and I want to run up to him, the same way I did to Larry, and give him a hug, but my feet are rooted to the floor. His are too, and he stops a few steps away from me.
“Well, I’ll leave you kids to it,” says Larry. “But, Penny, when you’re done, come find me and I’ll make sure you get home safely.”
“Thanks, Larry. You’re the best,” I say.
Noah smiles at me, but there’s something tentative in it. “Hey. Should we go somewhere a little more private to talk? There’s nobody on the tour bus right now so we could go there.”
I nod. Noah seems like a dulled-down version of himself. He is smiling, but I feel like there isn’t a lot of life behind his eyes, which are normally so bright and sparkly. We walk in a strange, uncomfortable silence over to the bus. I don’t like this. I don’t like that we’re not able to talk. It’s not us at all. I hope that once we get onto the bus the atmosphere will change.
Noah asks me to take a seat on the sofa—it’s the same place I sat down with Blake at the start of the tour. Noah sits next to me and places his outstretched hands on the small coffee table. He looks out of the window, where it’s just about possible to make out a small gap in the fence and see the festival happening outside.
He smiles. “So . . .”
“So . . .” I smile back. “How have you been?”
Noah shakes his head. “I can’t go through all this small talk. I just wanna cut to the chase.”
I nod.
“So, I guess my first question is: Why did you leave like that? Why didn’t you come and say goodbye properly?”
I feel a tightness grip my throat as I realize this conversation has very quickly become serious. I curse inwardly at his American straightforwardness, but this is what I came for, after all. “It was too hard to say goodbye to you face-to-face. When I’m with you, it’s hard to be annoyed or frustrated or sad. I thought we were over. Accusing me of lying about Blake was so wrong, Noah. The fact that you would even think I could make something like that up, just for your attention . . . I was devastated.”
I look at his face, but I can’t quite look him in the eye. Keep it together, Penny. Keep it together.
“You’re right, Penny: it was wrong of me. I should have spoken to you properly and I should have listened to you. That’s one of the reasons I asked you to come here when you got in touch. And why I’ve asked for someone to join us . . .” He looks up above my shoulder and nods to someone standing behind me. I whip my head round and my breath catches as I see Blake standing at the top of the bus stairs.
“Hey, Penny,” he says, and his voice has lost some of its normal snarky edge.
“Oh, um . . . hi, Blake,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Look, when Noah said you were coming here, I asked him if I could see you because I wanted to apologize for that night in Paris. Honestly, I know it was wrong, and I know it won’t make any difference to you what I say or change what I did, but I mean it: I was drunk and out of line.”
“Blake—”
“Wait—that’s not all. Afterwards, I panicked. Even though I knew I was in the wrong, I didn’t want Noah to kick me off the tour. I didn’t want to lose my job or my friend, so I told him you’d come on to me. I thought you guys would work it out—I just . . . I wasn’t thinking.”
I am completely speechless, and my throat feels numb. “Seriously?”
“I know; it was so stupid.”
I’ve never been able to trust Blake, but I feel like maybe this time he’s telling the truth. Still, I can’t forgive him that easily.
Noah catches my eye. “He told me the truth when he was drunk in Stockholm. Honestly, Penny, I was so angry . . . but when he was sober we talked, a lot. Blake recognizes he has a real problem. So he’s going home to deal with it.”
“It’s true,” Blake says. “I’m not going on the World Tour with Noah. Tour life isn’t good for me.”
Blake stares at me for a few moments, his eyes pleading. I know he wants me to give some sign that I’m accepting his apology, but I can’t give it to him. I swallow hard before replying. “Wow. Well, I hope you get the help you need.”
Blake nods. “I know I’m a long way from forgiveness from both of you but . . . maybe one day?” He looks so hopeful, but deep down I know it’s not enough yet. The hurt is just too raw.
“To be honest, I’m not sure. What you did really upset me, Blake. But I do appreciate your apology.”
“You’ve said your piece now. You can go,” says Noah, his voice cold and hard.
“See you around.”
When he’s gone from the bus, I turn back to Noah. “Wow . . . I wasn’t expecting that. Thank you.” My heart aches for him. I know that Noah will miss his best friend—even despite what he did—and I hope that Blake really does get the help he needs so that he can repair the relationships he’s damaged.
“And now it’s my turn again. When Blake told me that, I wanted to get in touch straightaway—”
“Why didn’t you?” I look him in the eyes, and I feel a huge thud in my chest.
“Because you asked to be left alone . . . and I knew it was more than just the Blake stuff.” Noah flicks his wavy brown hair back from his face and rests his head in his hands. “I didn’t want to make you even angrier, or to make the situation worse. The minute you texted me, I had to reply. It was so hard for me not to contact you, but I also wanted to respect what you asked for. I’ve hated not having you on the tour.”
Noah’s words are like music to my ears. All the questions that have been circling in my mind—Did he miss me? Did he believe me? Was he refusing to call because he hated me?—I now have the answers to. I feel a sense of reassurance and calm come over me.
“Thank you for respecting my wishes, but it still hurt not to hear from you. I guess I thought you would try anyway. But, in the end, I wasn’t ready until now.”
“Do you . . . do you think there’s any way for us to make this work?” Noah looks up at me, and my heart reaches out to him. But my head stays in charge. “I don’t know, Noah. What happened with Blake was the last straw, but there were other things too. I just don’t think I’m cut out to be on the road either. I still need to figure out what I want to do with my life, and I don’t think I can do that if I’m just tagging along with you.” It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever said, but I feel completely relieved.
Noah sighs. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Penny. But my music is my passion and my life. I don’t want to have to choose between you.”
I reach out and grab his hand. “No, you absolutely do not have to choose between us. I’ve seen you onstage, Noah—it is where you’re in your element. You should never give that up. But you have to give me time. Time to just . . . figure out who I am.”
There’s a long pause that seems to stretch out into eternity, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. “I’m going to miss you, Penny. Every day.”
“Me too,” I say.
He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles. It takes every ounce of my willpower not to throw my arms round him and
tell him that we can be together no matter what. But I know that I would still be miserable on tour, that Noah needs this time to cement his success, and that I need this time to figure my life out.
“What made you change your mind?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Why did you get in touch now? Was it just because I was coming to the UK? I would have flown back from wherever I was to see you—you should have known that.”
I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t that. It was Alex. I didn’t tell you this, but Elliot and Alex broke up too.”
“No way!” Noah’s jaw drops. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Those two were perfect.”
“I thought so too. But TheRealTruth’s message really shook Alex up, and he ran away from the relationship. Now, though, he’s come out to his whole family and it’s so great for him—he wants to share that with Elliot and win him back. We’ve got this whole surprise set up for Thursday night at the bandstand in Brighton. We’re even going to play one of your songs—you know how much they love ‘Elements.’ ”
Noah squeezes my hand, and I feel a spark of electricity between us. But, before anything can catch light, he gets up from the sofa. “I’ve really got to go, Penny. My set is about to start. But, please, feel free to stay on the bus for a bit if you don’t need to leave yet . . . I’d love to see you after the show too.”
I shake my head. “I’m going to go. I’m meeting my friends.”
“So this is goodbye?” Noah says.
“I . . . I guess so.”
We hug each other like we should have done in Paris. His arms envelop me, and I throw my hands round his waist, burying my face into the side of his neck, breathing in his scent. The hug lasts longer than it should, neither of us wanting to let go. Then he pulls away. For a moment, our lips are so close that, with just the tiniest movement, we could kiss and this whole breakup would be forgotten.
Instead we break apart even further, and I watch as he disappears down the stairs and out through the front door of the bus.