CHAPTER 18
I didn’t blame the girls for screaming. He looked that good. He wore white pants and a tight white shirt that emphasized his broad, muscular shoulders. His hair had been gelled back, which accentuated his striking features and square jaw.
I watched him, unable to breathe.
Grant looked up at the bleachers, but if he was searching for me, I couldn't tell. He held up one hand and said, "Hey, everybody, how’s it going?”
He might have said more, but since nearly every girl in the gym, including Lori, screamed again, I didn't hear what. Even his microphone headset couldn’t overcome that kind of volume.
After the sound died down, he said, "I came to Morgantown to pay someone a visit, and I thought I could stop by and give you a short concert—’’
More screaming. Even louder this time, if that was possible.
He smiled and called out, "Let’s get it started!"
And just like that, he and the band moved on cue. He wasn't a person now, he was an entertainer, fluid with the beat. When he sang, the music vibrated through me and I couldn’t think of anything else. I watched him song after song, mesmerized.
Why had he come here? It seemed like a long way to come to pay a visit. Did it mean he'd forgiven me for lying to him, or was it something else?
As I stared at him, I tried to catch his eye, any little shift of his gaze that would show he saw me. Sometimes when he did more singing than dancing, his eyes seemed to rest on my section of the bleachers, but then the next moment he’d look somewhere else, so I couldn’t be sure. Maybe he had trouble picking me out of the crowd with my brown hair.
After about forty-five minutes of performing, he said, "We’re going to slow things down now. This is a song I wrote for someone who means a lot, and it would mean even more if she sang it with me.” Then he looked directly into my eyes; he’d known where I was all along.
"Alexia," he said, "do you want to come down here?"
En masse, every pair of eyes turned and looked at me. Grant smiled, and I felt myself blush bright pink. Lori nudged my arm. "Oh, my gosh!" she whispered. "Go!"
I stood up, still blushing, and made my way down the bleachers. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears. I told myself I shouldn't be so rattled. I'd been up in front of bigger crowds than this during the last month. But this was different. I wasn’t standing up in front of an audience as Kari Kingsley. I couldn’t hide behind her image here—I was facing them as me.
As I made my way across the floor, Grant said to the crowd, "I sent Alexia the music to this song a week and a half ago. We’ll see how well she’s practiced it.”
I went and stood beside him, feeling his blue-eyed gaze resting on me. I couldn't read his expression. Grant smiled, but there was a stiffness to it, making him look more angry than happy. He handed me a copy of the sheet music. He shouldn’t have bothered. I'd memorized the words on the first night he’d sent them.
I didn’t glance at the crowd. I couldn’t. Instead I gave him a nervous smile and whispered, "I can't believe you're doing this to me.”
He reached up to his headset and switched off his mike so the audience wouldn't hear him. "That makes us even, since I can't believe what you did to me either.”
The intro started. I glanced down at the paper in my hands to give my eyes someplace to look besides at him. "You know, you’ve never heard me sing. You're going to be sorry if I’m horrible at this.”
"Well, one of us will be sorry.” He clipped a microphone onto the collar of my shirt and sent over a challenging look.
Which made me wonder if he could have come all this way just to humiliate me in front of my classmates.
I raised my chin in defiance, and the nervousness drained away. I wanted to prove that I could sing. It would be my voice the audience heard this time, not a lip-synched version of Kari. I held the sheet music down, but still kept my gaze on him.
He turned his mike back on and sang the first line in his beautiful, full voice. When it was my turn, my words came out strong and clear. Melodic.
His eyebrows rose in surprise and then he smiled. A real smile this time.
I admit I had an advantage. I'd practiced to the taped version of him singing this song dozens of times. I knew how to blend my voice with his. He’d never practiced with me. Still he did an amazing job—another proof of his talent.
When we’d finished, he took my hand in his, then pulled me into an embrace. And there in front of the entire school, he bent down and kissed me. Some of the guys in the bleachers howled at that, but I didn’t care.
Grant turned back to the bleachers. "Thanks for letting us come,” he said. “I've had a really good time.”
More catcalls from the bleachers.
This time I glanced at the audience. I couldn’t tell who’d been yowling, but my gaze stopped on the front row where Trevor, Theresa, and the Cliquistas stared at me openmouthed.
I smiled at them, then looked away.
Grant waved at the audience, still not letting go of my hand. "You guys have been great!" While the band played a refrain, he turned and pulled me across the gym. One of the teachers had propped open the back door for us.
I barely heard the principal’s announcement that everyone should proceed in an orderly manner to their lockers to conclude the school day. The door shut behind us. We were outside and heading toward a dark blue sports car.
"Sorry about the quick exit,” Grant said. "I didn’t want them to mob us.”
Us. Like my schoolmates would ever want to mob me. We climbed into the sports car, and Grant started it up. I looked back at the building. "What about your band?”
"My security guys and the teachers are going to help with crowd control until the guys have the equipment packed up in the van. Fortunately for them, they get fewer teenage girls trying to rip the clothes off their backs.” Grant guided the car through the parking lot, and I wondered where we were going. I didn’t ask. Really, I didn't care.
When we'd pulled out onto the main street, he turned a penetrating gaze on me. "Why didn’t you tell me the truth?"
"Technically, I did.”
He let out a grunt of disbelief. "Yeah, right after you asked how my plans for world domination were going. That does not equal a confession.”
"I knew if I told you you’d be angry.”
His eyes flashed in my direction before he turned his attention back to the road. "You're right. I'm angry. Every time we were together, you lied to me. I keep thinking about how much I miss you, and then I wonder how I can possibly miss you when I never knew who you were to begin with. Which part of you was actually you and which part was you pretending to be Kari?”
He glanced over expectantly. He wanted an answer.
“It was all me, except I’m not rich, famous, or especially talented. I also don’t gamble, shop obsessively, date Michael Jung, or give concerts.”
“You performed at lots of concerts," he said.
"Okay, I’m a pretty good lip-syncher. Oh, and also I’m not a vegetarian."
"Yeah, I had that part figured out.” He slowed the car to go around a corner. "I can’t believe you went down to the hospital and lied to sick kids about who you were.”
"I was trying to make them happy,” I said. "Like the way Santa visits people at Christmas. But in a less jolly, more superstar sort of way.”
"And why did you date me? Was that to get information on Lorna’s book or to create publicity for Kari's CD, or were you just trying to make me happy too—was I part of your goodwill-toward-the-public-on-Kari 's-behalf campaign?”
I lowered my voice. "I wasn't supposed to see you. Kari and Maren both told me not to, but I couldn't help myself."
He gripped the steering wheel harder. "And were you ever going to tell me who you really were? Or did that only happen because you got caught?"
Without trying, I could conjure up every memory of our breakup, his words, his expressions. It still hurt. "How could I tell you the truth, when you only lik
ed me because you thought I was Kari Kingsley?"
His gaze momentarily swung around to mine. "Are you kidding? I read the book on Kari, literally. You think I liked her? I was going out of my mind trying to reconcile how the girl in front of me could have done the things Lorna said Kari had done.”
He turned onto my street, slowing down as we came to my house. I wondered how he'd known where I lived.
"My band members thought I'd gone insane," he said. “First because I kept telling them I was dating Kari Kingsley—and she was this smart, wonderful girl, only she didn’t want to let anybody know we were a couple, so they couldn’t meet her—and then that looked like a huge lie, so I had to tell them that, no, actually I'd been dating Kari Kingsley’s nearly identical half sister from West Virginia that nobody knew about."
“It was nice of them to come all this way to do a concert for my school.”
"Nice had nothing to do with it. They were taking bets on my sanity.” He nodded with satisfaction. “They each owe me a hundred bucks.”
"Is that why you came? To win a bet?"
Grant pulled into my driveway and turned off the car. He made no move to get out, though.
He had only glanced at my house; still, I couldn't help but see it through his eyes. A small, rundown gray home with worn paneling and a roof that needed repair. I looked at the dashboard so I wouldn’t have to see it anymore.
He said, “I came because I wanted to hear about this from you, not secondhand from your father. You owe me that much at least.”
“You're right," I said. "I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for every time I lied to you. I hated doing it, but you never would have looked at me, let alone dated me, if you hadn't thought I was a celebrity. You said as much yourself the last time we were together. You said you were glad Kari outclassed you. You said Kari was better than the nameless masses. Well, I’m a certified member of the nameless masses. That’s who I am.”
He lifted one hand in protest. "I thought you were worried about the backlash from Lorna’s book, and I was trying to comfort you. I didn’t mean that I wouldn’t like you unless you were famous.”
My gaze flicked to our house, then back to him. "Celebrities date celebrities. That's just the way it is."
Grant's gaze moved to my house and stayed there. "You mean celebrities use the people who have crushes on them and then never call?"
Which meant he knew the story of my mother and father. "Yes,” I said. "Something like that." I reached for the door handle, but he took hold of my arm and pulled me back toward him.
"I know your name, I already have your home number programmed into my cell phone. And I’m calling you right now.” Then he leaned over and kissed me.
For days I had been pushing thoughts of him away, willing myself not to feel these emotions. My efforts fell apart right there in the car. I wound my arms around him and kissed him back until I couldn’t breathe anymore. I think the only reason I stopped was the sudden fear that my grandmother might be looking out the window. I didn't want her coming outside to smack Grant’s car with a Bible.
Grant let go of me and opened his door. "Come on, there’s something you need to see.”
I got out of the car and followed him across my yard, even though I had no idea what he was talking about.
He stopped on my front porch and waited for me to open the door. As soon as I did, I heard laughter from inside. My mother’s laughter. I walked in, and Grant followed. My mother and father were sitting close together on the living room couch, a photo album spread out on their laps.
Abuela was nowhere around, although I could see down the hallway that her bedroom door was shut. Music drifted out of her room. I wondered how my mother had convinced her that she needed privacy.
Mom looked up at me with a lingering smile on her lips. "Oh, good, Lexi is home. I'm showing Alex some of your pictures."
"I love this one of you with the boots." He pointed to a photo where I was about two years old and wore nothing but cowboy boots and a diaper. "Get the fashion basics down, and you can’t go wrong.”
Mom said, "She wouldn't wear any other shoes until she went to kindergarten.”
He let out a deep chuckle. “That's my girl."
I finally got over the shock of seeing him in my living room and stated the obvious. "You’re here.”
He stood up then and gave me a brief hug. "Your mother and I had a lot to discuss, and I figured it was better to do it in person." His gaze traveled to Grant. "Alexia’s been a straight-A student since sixth grade. I just saw her report cards.”
Grant nudged my arm. "I’m impressed.”
"And Lexi went to regionals for her science fair project last year,” Mom added. "I have pictures of that too.”
I sent her a forced smile. "You don’t have to show him that."
“I want to see it,” my father said, and sat down on the couch again. Mom went to the bookshelf and pulled a different photo album out. She flipped through it, then put it on his lap. "There she is with her ribbon.”
Grant nodded. "I definitely want your help when I take over the world.”
My father looked up at me and patted his shirt pocket. "I have something for you. It's sort of my way of telling you I want to make amends.”
It was silly, but at that moment I fully expected him to produce a horse. Instead he handed me a thin rectangular box and a piece of paper. I opened the box and found a ruby pendant shaped into a heart and surrounded with little diamonds. I turned it to catch the light, and sparkles danced across its surface. It made my breath catch.
"I thought you should have a necklace I picked out just for you,” he said. "Do you like it?”
I glanced at my mom to make sure she approved, which is when I noticed she was wearing a new necklace too. Hers had a row of rubies that got progressively bigger until the center stone.
And she had been worried about him spoiling me.
"It's beautiful.” I took the necklace out of the box, and Grant helped me put it on. Then I looked at the piece of paper.
"It’s tickets for you and your family to come out and visit California," my father said.
Mom said, "He has a ranch there. You’d like that.” Her voice was so eager, I knew she wanted to go. "He has horses," she emphasized.
"Horses, nothing," my father said. "It’s close to Grant." He winked at me, then turned to my mother. "Horses can only sway girls until they’re about fifteen. After that, you need guys. That’s why I brought him along."
Grant put his hand on my back and smiled. "Say you'll come.”
"We'll come,” I said.
My father turned to my mother. "See?" And then they both laughed.
I turned to Grant to ask how long he was staying in Morgantown, and that’s when I saw Kari and Abuela coming out of her room.
"Kari!" I sputtered.
She walked down the hallway, as casually elegant in my house as she had been in hers. "Your grandma was playing some old Mexican songs for me. They’re totally . . .” She looked to my grandmother to supply the word.
“Que padre," Abuela said, enunciating slowly.
“Que padre," Kari repeated. “That means awesome.” She plopped down on one of the kitchen chairs and tapped her fingers against the table. "I think I want to do a few songs on my next album with that beat.”
“I thought you were in Utah,” I said.
She picked up a piece of Abuela’s homemade fry bread from the table. "When Dad told me he was coming to see you, I checked myself out. Don't worry," she said. "I’m going to finish the program. I just thought it was important to come.” She spread some honey butter onto her bread and sent me a severe look. "You really should have told me who you were, Alexia. I can’t believe we were together all that time and you never said anything."
“I didn't know how you’d take it." I watched her nibble on the fry bread. “How are you taking it?”
“Well, I wouldn't like finding out that just anybody was my sister, but you’re cool.?
?? She cast a glance at Grant. “Even if your taste in men is lacking.”
Grant pulled me closer to him. “She has great taste in men.”
Kari smiled mischievously. “Just think of how much fun we can have driving the paparazzi crazy. We’ll show up at different events at the same time, and when they report two Kari Kingsley sightings, they'll lose all credibility. Total payback time.”
But the thought of the press following me around ignited flames of panic inside my stomach. "Do the paparazzi have to find out about me?”
My father shrugged. "Not if you don’t want to tell anyone that you’re my daughter. We can try to keep it a secret.”
I glanced at my mother, but she shrugged too, turning the decision back over to me.
I felt strangely powerful having the final say. Did I want to live a quiet life as Sabrina Garcia's daughter, or did I want to be known as Alex Kingsley's hidden past? I didn’t like the thought of tabloids in every grocery store across America proclaiming to the world what my parents had done, but at the same time, I was so happy that I finally had a father and a sister, that they were here in my living room to see me, that it seemed wrong to keep it a secret. “We can tell people,” I said.
He smiled and then went back to looking at the photo album with my mother.
I watched her for a moment, thinking how young she suddenly looked. Poor Larry. His days were numbered.
Grant leaned closer, whispering into my ear, "I think your dad has got her number this time.”
I leaned back into him. "I think you’re right.”
THE END