Heartbreakers

  “Hey,” he said, pointing at me. “You’re that girl from the elevator.” He turned to Xander and starting whacking him on the arm. “It’s the girl from the elevator, remember?”

  Xander pushed his friend’s hand away. “Yes, JJ. Quite clearly.”

  “Hang on.” Drew turned to me. “You met all of them?”

  “More like shouted at us,” Xander clarified, “but yeah. We’ve met.”

  I didn’t bother to look at my brother because I knew he was scowling at me. “Sorry about that,” I said and tugged on the hem of my shirt. “I wasn’t in the best mood.”

  “We’ve heard way worse,” JJ said, dismissing my apology with the wave of his hand. “Right now, all I care about is getting some payback on Oliver. He filled my favorite shoes with peanut butter this morning, so he has it coming. Someone help me fill more water balloons before he shows up.”

  Drew glanced back and forth between the boys to gauge how serious JJ was. “You want us to help you ambush Oliver Perry?”

  Apparently JJ was dead serious. “Damn straight,” he said. He was already at the kitchen sink, and the hot-pink rubber of a new balloon was wrapped around the faucet. “I wanna see that sucker’s face when he gets an unexpected shower. Xander, see if we have any more Silly String.”

  The front door banged open, and Oliver strolled into the room. “Valiant attempt, JJ. I’ll give it a four out of five, but you’re never going to out-prank me.”

  As soon as I saw Oliver, my ears started to prickle as if they’d been fried on a sunny day. I quickly stepped to the left where Drew was standing, hoping to disappear behind him.

  “Aw, man,” JJ groaned. He tossed the one balloon he’d managed to finish back into the sink. “How long were you out there listening?”

  Oliver flopped down on the couch. “Who said I was listening?”

  The way he settled back into the cushions—hands folded casually in his lap, legs spread out in front of him—made my stomach roll. This was a different person than the boy I’d met this morning.

  JJ stared at Oliver, eyes narrowed. “Wait…” he said, as he slowly put something together. “You knew our plan before you left?” Oliver didn’t answer, but the smirk on his face was confirmation enough.

  “And then you invited them up here,” Xander said, pointing at Drew and me. Again Oliver remained silent, but he tucked his hands behind his head as if he was pleased with himself.

  “That’s low, man,” JJ said, shaking his head. “Tricking innocent people.”

  “I’ll admit the brother was collateral damage,” Oliver said, waving his hand in Drew’s direction. Then he fixed his gaze on me. “But she isn’t innocent.” He kept his face straight as he spoke, but I could still see his anger, a raging gale captured behind his eyes. “No offense, but you had it coming. Sorry, not sorry.”

  I heard my knuckles crack before I even realized my fingers had curled into a fist. My blood was pumping so fast that I could feel it rushing in my ears as I took a step in Oliver’s direction.

  “Stella,” Drew said in a warning voice. He wrapped his hands securely around my shoulders and held me in place. I knew he was only trying to prevent me from doing something I’d later regret, and I resisted the urge to shove him off.

  Oliver was a complete and total ass. Admittedly, I had been harsh with my critique of the band, but while that wasn’t very nice on my part, I still had the right to my own opinion. Did Oliver retaliate against everyone who was critical of the Heartbreakers? And did he really think I was going to roll over and let him get away with it just because he was famous? The fact that I still found him attractive made me seethe even more.

  I was about to tell Oliver off, but then JJ cut in. “You’re just pissed because she dissed your music,” he said in my defense. The way JJ said “your music” sounded as if he’d eaten something that had festered at the back of the fridge for weeks. Wasn’t it all their music? I momentarily forgot my anger as my ears perked up.

  JJ’s comment made Xander laugh, but all the air in the room suddenly felt thin and I couldn’t help but tense. “You should have seen his face when we got back to the room,” he said. “Just fuming! I haven’t seen Oliver that pissed since he fell off the stage in Atlanta.”

  “I wasn’t mad because she doesn’t like our music,” Oliver snapped.

  “What is it then?” JJ shot back. Oliver stared at him, his jaw tightening as if he was trying to come up with something good to say. “Well?

  “Screw you, JJ,” Oliver spat out. He jumped up from the couch and bolted out of the room, disappearing down one of the suite’s many halls. The slam of a bedroom door echoed back to us.

  “That was a little prima donna of him,” Xander said.

  “Hmm,” JJ replied, scratching his chin. “On a scale of humble to Mariah, I’d say he’s only at diva.”

  Xander shrugged, and Alec wasn’t even paying attention; he was lounging in an armchair with his headphones on, head moving to a beat. All three boys seemed so unaffected by what had just gone down that I wondered if they normally fought like this.

  They might have been used to it, but I wasn’t able to let things go so easily. “I want to have a word with him,” I said, pointing in the direction Oliver had gone. I tried to keep my voice steady so I sounded civil, but everything came out choppy and sharp.

  “Be my guest,” JJ said. He held out both hands in invitation and gestured to the hall, the grin on his face so full it looked goofy.

  “Maybe that isn’t such a good idea,” Drew said, but my glare shut him up quickly. It had been his idea to come up here, not mine. I would have preferred staying in our sauna of a room, sweating our asses off, but now Oliver was going to hear me out whether he liked it or not. After giving my brother one last pointed look, I nodded a quick thanks to JJ and marched off, my previous embarrassment long gone.

  • • •

  He was out on the balcony.

  After searching through a series of empty rooms, I stepped inside the master and glanced around. With the curtains pulled back, I quickly spotted him through the glass door. A surge of heat flushed through my body, making my chest and cheeks burn, and I stomped across the room, my anger refreshed.

  “What do you want?” he asked when I pulled back the sliding door.

  His back was to me, arms folded neatly against the railing as he stared up at the sky. I had expected him to sound furious, but all his previous anger was absent and his voice came out quiet, layered with exhaustion. It was strangely jarring, and I took a step back.

  Oliver turned when I didn’t answer. “Oh, I thought you were JJ,” he said, a scowl flickering across his face when he saw me. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  I opened my mouth to snap back, to tell him he couldn’t go around treating people the way he was treating me, but something over the edge of balcony caught my attention and I stepped up to the railing. Far below us on the ground, swarms of people crowded the sidewalk. They looked like specks from this high up, but I knew they were all teenage girls waiting to meet their idols. “Whoa,” I gasped, unable to contain my surprise. “All those people down there?”

  Oliver’s gaze flickered from the stars down to the street, a distant look on his face. “Here to see us?” he said. He rubbed his arms as if he was cold. “Yeah.”

  I couldn’t comprehend the number of girls waiting outside the hotel. The band had to deal with this every day? The thought made me dizzy.

  I didn’t regret my decision to be homeschooled, but sometimes being at home all the time was difficult, and I often wondered what high school was like for a normal teenager. Whenever those thoughts bothered me, I would lie in bed and stare at the walls of my bedroom to make sure they weren’t shrinking around me. I often felt they were, suffocating me slowly as they closed in on all sides. It was like the cancer had trapped us and was holding us back from the
rest of world. I knew Oliver’s situation was completely different, but I wondered if his lack of privacy ever made him feel like a prisoner, trapped, the way I did by Cara’s sickness.

  “It must be overwhelming.” I didn’t know what else to say. There was a painful twinge inside my heart, and I pressed my hand against my chest.

  “You get used to it,” he said with a shrug. His answer was so full of indifference that he sounded like he was merely reciting a well-known fact. I had no answer, and he turned back to the darkness suspended above us. Only then did a calm expression soften his face, and I was reminded of the smiling boy I’d met at Starbucks, not the famous prick I had witnessed a few minutes ago.

  I joined him in stargazing. “I don’t think I’d ever get used to that,” I finally responded.

  “That’s what I said in the beginning.” Oliver raked his fingers through his hair and then turned to me. “Look, Stella, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have tricked you and your brother like that. But you—”

  “Wait,” I said, interrupting him. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt the urge to apologize, especially when moments ago I had stormed in blazing with every intention of making his night as horrible as mine. It was like, in a strange way, I understood how it felt for Oliver to have the world shrinking around him. “Don’t. I’m the one who should be sorry. I acted like a total bitch. You just…”

  “Caught me off guard,” Oliver said, finishing the sentence.

  “Yeah,” I said a little breathlessly. “Exactly.”

  We both stared at each other, and a moment passed between us that I couldn’t unravel. Oliver stood unmoving, with the exception of his bangs that stirred in the wind. His face was blank, but there was something busy and full about his eyes, and it made me want to take a step closer to see if those deep blues could tell me what he was thinking.

  He cleared his throat, which made me acutely aware of how loud my heart was beating, and I lowered my gaze to my feet. The temperature outside had dropped with the sun, and the breeze cooled my hot skin but did nothing to settle the nerves swirling inside me.

  “So,” Oliver said, his voice scratchy. “Are you really not a fan?”

  His question made me cringe. “Oliver,” I responded, “I was being spiteful, which was totally ridiculous because you didn’t do anything to me.”

  “But you still don’t like us, right?”

  “Sorry,” I said as I fiddled with my camera, “but not really. My sister absolutely loves you guys though, and she would probably die of embarrassment if she ever found out how awful I was.”

  Oliver was quiet as he listened to my answer, and I found the way he stared straight at me with his lips pressed together rather unnerving. He looked like a different person when he smiled, much less intimidating, and I suddenly wanted to see his dimples as his lips curled up.

  I couldn’t stand his silence any longer. “I completely understand if you hate my guts,” I said in a rush. “To be honest, I came out here to yell at you, but then I realized you deserved an apology, so again, I’m sorry. I guess I’ll leave you alone now.”

  As I turned to leave, I felt his fingers brush my shoulder. “Wait,” he said. His touch made me jump, and he quickly retracted his hand and stared down at it like he was just as surprised by his actions as me. Too unsettled to say anything, I wrapped my arms around myself and waited for him to speak.

  He looked back up at me and sucked in a breath. “Can we start over?” he asked. It was the last thing I expected him to say, and I gaped as he stuck his hand out. “I’m Oliver Perry, lead singer for the Heartbreakers.”

  I hesitated but then slowly slipped my hand into his. “Stella Samuel, amateur photographer.” His hand engulfed mine, skin rougher than I expected, but I liked the way my fingers felt against his.

  “Well, Stella, amateur photographer, it’s nice to meet you.” He blinded me with that face-changing smile I had been thinking about moments ago. It was contagious and I found myself smiling back.

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  “So,” he said, rolling onto the balls of his feet. “You mentioned that your sister wanted an autograph?”

  “Um, yeah.” I brushed my fingers against my throat when my voice jumped. “It’s a surprise for her birthday.”

  “I’m sure the guys would agree that we’d be happy to provide you with one.”

  “Really?” I asked, a tentative grin slowly blooming on my face. “You’d do that?” Even after what happened? Maybe Oliver wasn’t the jerk I’d imagined in my head.

  He nodded. “Sure thing. Let’s head back in and I’ll find a pen.”

  Chapter 5

  Our walk back to the living room felt longer than the drive from Minnesota to Chicago. Oliver and I had come to a truce, but at the same time, we could never go back to being the people who met at Starbucks—just a regular guy and a girl. I couldn’t forget who he was, the lead singer of the Heartbreakers, and that put me on edge. My body was hyperaware of exactly where Oliver was as he walked next to me, and I made sure to keep my arms clamped to my sides so we wouldn’t brush up against each other again. Even so, the hairs on my arms were prickling.

  When the narrow hall finally opened to the massive living room, I let out my breath and put some distance between us. During my absence, Drew had managed to make quick friends with the rest of the Heartbreakers, and he was in the midst of an intense game of Call of Duty with JJ.

  “I swear to God, this guy is cheating,” JJ said as he died on-screen. “He’s like a freaking ninja, popping up all over the place and slaughtering me.”

  The round ended soon after, and Drew tossed the controller aside and flexed his arms like his physical strength actually had something to do with his gaming skills. “That’s right,” he said, a smirk on his face. “From now on, you can call me the Slayer.”

  “Oh hey!” Xander called when he saw us. “You guys didn’t kill each other.”

  “Surprise, surprise,” JJ added. “We thought we’d need to recruit a new lead singer. Drew, you any good?”

  “Hey!” Oliver said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “That Stella was totally going to kick your ass,” JJ responded. “Obviously.”

  Oliver crossed his arms and snorted. “You think I couldn’t hold my own against her?” I shot him a look and he added, “What? You’re like six inches shorter than me.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” JJ said, shaking his head. “She had fire in her eyes, man. You don’t mess with a woman when she’s angry like that.”

  “Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “Just saying.”

  “Well, if you’re done knocking me, I thought you guys would like to know that I promised Stella an autograph for her sister.”

  “Okay,” Xander said, bobbing his head enthusiastically. “Anything in particular you want us to sign?”

  “Yeah, hold on.” I took off my backpack, dug out the CD, poster, and shirt, and handed everything to Oliver. “Our sister’s name is Cara. With a C.” I watched as he spread everything out on a nearby table, and the boys gathered around and took turns scribbling their names.

  “So how old is your sister?” JJ asked as he pulled the poster toward himself. He pressed the tip of the pen beneath his own image and produced two looping Js.

  “Seventeen turning eighteen.”

  Oliver’s eyebrows squished together as if my answer didn’t make sense. “Well, how old are you then?”

  “Seventeen turning eighteen,” I said, smiling, and Oliver’s frown deepened.

  “We’re triplets,” Drew clarified.

  “Bull,” JJ said, straightening up so he could look at my brother clearly. “You have to be at least twenty.”

  Drew, who had heard the same thing many times before, had a knowing grin on his face. “Seventeen. I swear.”

 
“Which one of you is the oldest?” Xander asked.

  “Me,” I said, biting back a grin. Drew coughed to cover up his laugh. The three of us always referred to the question as the stupid way of being asked which of us popped out of our mom first. Like, hello? Do you not know the definition of triplets? It means we’re the same age. But for some reason, people always wanted to know.

  From there, the typical round of triplet-based questions ensued until JJ asked, “So why didn’t your sister come?”

  I watched as Drew’s smile dissolved and he tucked his hands neatly into his lap. “She’s sick at the moment.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Xander said.

  Everyone got quiet, and I was afraid the Heartbreakers had picked up on our mood swing.

  “Well, it’s getting late. We should probably get going,” Drew said, and he stood up from the couch. “We really appreciate the autographs, especially after everything.” From my brother’s tone, “everything” meant the way I’d treated the band.

  “Wait, what? You can’t leave yet,” JJ said, his head jerking sharply toward Drew. “I still have to beat you in a round of CoD.”

  This brought a smile back to my brother’s face, but he turned to me, seeking permission. I peeked at Oliver. His sharp eyes were on me, and when we made eye contact, I quickly looked back at Drew and nodded.

  “I suppose I have time to crush you again,” Drew said, reaching for the controller.

  JJ leaped over the back of the couch and took a spot next to him. “Not this time, ninja man. You’re going down.”

  • • •

  “I’m bored,” JJ whined. He was sprawled upside down in one of the armchairs and waving a pair of drumsticks around like a band conductor. Blood rushed to his face as he hung in the seat, his shaved head almost touching the carpet. “Someone entertain me,” he demanded with a flick of the wooden sticks. After losing to my brother three times in a row, JJ had given up.