Heartbreakers

  “Sorry,” I told him. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “No worries,” he said, sounding much softer than before.

  But Oliver seemed to be done talking, because he turned his attention back to the movie. And without our conversation, my nerves crept back up. I realized I was holding my breath when he started moving his thumb in small circles on my arm. For some reason, I found the sensation calming. Bit by bit, my breathing returned to normal and I nestled down into his side.

  Just as I finally relaxed and turned my attention to the movie, Oliver chuckled at something 007 said, and I felt him shake beneath me. Tilting my head back a few inches, I looked up at him through my lashes. There was a dusting of pink on his cheeks, and his eyes shone as he laughed.

  He must have felt my gaze, because his eyes snapped down and found mine. His lips slowly parted as he stared down at me, and my whole body flooded with warmth. Someone was shouting something crazy on-screen, but I was too preoccupied with Oliver to turn toward the TV. The way he was looking at me made me want to press my body farther up against him, and the thought made me blush.

  Embarrassed by my own thoughts, I suddenly needed to look away, to focus on anything but him. But as I turned, Oliver gently grabbed my chin. He held my head in place until I made eye contact, and then, once he knew I was watching, he dipped his head and brushed his lips against mine.

  The small bit of contact was all I needed. Something flared up inside me, and instead of waiting for Oliver to deepen the kiss, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. I’d kissed boys before, but I had never felt like I did in that moment—crazy and wild and losing control. When Oliver yanked me onto his lap, my mouth left his and I started kissing down his neck. His head rolled back against the couch, and he groaned, yanking at his shorts with his free hand as he tried to readjust.

  The front door banged open. “Stella? Oliver? Are you guys up here?”

  When Xander’s voice rang through the apartment, Oliver pushed me off and shot to the other side of the couch as if I suddenly had a contagious disease. Sitting up straighter, I patted down my hair.

  “There you guys are,” Xander said when he entered the living room.

  “Oh hey,” Oliver said.

  He put on a wonderful performance. First, he casually glanced up at his friends like he hadn’t heard anyone enter the penthouse. Then he yawned and stood up to stretch as if his muscles were cramped from watching the movie. If he wasn’t a singer, I thought, he would make an excellent actor. Grabbing the remote, Oliver flipped the movie off just as Aaron ushered the rest of the guys into the room. Then a woman with short, blond hair stepped inside after them.

  “Aaron called Courtney,” Xander said, his lips tightening.

  Oliver narrowed his eyes at his bodyguard. “Traitor.”

  “Aaron did the right thing,” said the lady I presumed was Courtney. “We have an interview tomorrow morning and a concert tomorrow night. You should have gone to bed hours ago.”

  “We’re not kids, Courtney,” JJ complained. The way he rolled his eyes made him look exactly like a little kid, and I covered my laugh with a cough.

  “Really?” she responded and put a hand on her hip. “Could have fooled me. Aaron shouldn’t have to call me in the middle of the night to make you behave. I’m your manager, not your babysitter.” So this Courtney chick was the band’s manager.

  “Okay, we get it,” Xander grumbled. “We’ll behave. You can go back to bed now.”

  “I will,” Courtney said, “but your friend has to leave.” She pointed at Drew.

  “Friends,” Drew corrected her. “My sister is coming with me.” He shot me a look that said, “No way in hell are you staying here alone.”

  Courtney’s eyes flickered over to the couch when my brother looked in my direction. She sighed before turning to Oliver. “Your friend has to leave as well.” The way Courtney dismissed me made it seem as if she had done it many times before, almost like it was a normal occurrence.

  “Okay,” Oliver said calmly. For a moment, nobody moved.

  “Well, are you both coming?” Courtney asked as she nodded in the direction of the door.

  A gut-wrenching feeling washed over me as I stood up. I turned to Oliver, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Okay…why was he acting so strange all of a sudden?

  Alec spoke up. “It would be nice if we could say good-bye to our friends.” Courtney raised an eyebrow as if she were waiting. “Privately,” he added and crossed his arms over his chest.

  The boys’ manager pursed her lips together before responding. “Fine,” she agreed, “but don’t take too long. I’ll see you four in the morning.” Taking Aaron with her, Courtney backed out of the room. It remained quiet until the door clicked shut.

  “That went well,” Oliver grumbled to himself. He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around awkwardly.

  Drew started our good-byes. “It was great to meet you all.” He actually looked a little sad as he gathered Cara’s belongings from the table. “Thanks again for signing everything. It will really mean a lot to our sister.”

  “Oh! That reminds me,” Xander said before disappearing into one of the back rooms and returning with another poster.

  “Good call,” JJ said when he saw it.

  “It’s going to be in next month’s issue of Tiger Beat,” Xander explained to me as he held it up. It was a picture of all the guys jazzed up in suits. My eyes went straight to Oliver, who had his hands raised to form a fake gun. His eyes twinkled in amusement as they stared up at me from the glossy page. Bond, James Bond.

  “Nobody has it yet,” JJ added. He took the poster from Xander, flattened it out on the table, and wrote a message for Cara in the top left-hand corner. It read:

  Happy Birthday, Cara!

  Sorry we missed you, but we hope you have an awesome day.

  —the Heartbreakers

  All four boys signed it, the letters in their names dipping in and out in impressive loops. I was always jealous of celebrities’ signatures because they looked so perfect and special. Mine looked like a two-year-old wrote it.

  When they were done, Drew rolled up the poster and tucked it underneath his arm. He lifted a hand and carved it through his hair, holding a bunch at the back for a moment before letting go and shaking his head. “I don’t know what to say,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

  I knew exactly how he was feeling. No words could express how happy Cara would be when she saw her gift, and there was nothing more Drew and I wanted. This would be unforgettable for her, and we would never be able to properly thank the Heartbreakers for that.

  “No problem,” Oliver said and smiled at Drew. It was one of those million-dollar smiles, just like the one that threw me off guard at Starbucks, and I gritted my teeth and looked away.

  Oliver held out his hand for Drew to shake, and before I could get upset about having to leave, Xander pulled me into a smothering hug. He was so much taller than me that my face collided with his chest. “I’m glad we met,” he said as he squeezed the air out of me. “Even though you did scare the shit out of me in the elevator.”

  I pulled away. “I scared you?”

  Xander pushed his glasses back into place and nodded his head. “You were quite formidable.”

  Next it was JJ’s turn to say good-bye. “Do I get a kiss now?” he asked me. I laughed and shook my head no. “Fine,” JJ said before quickly pecking me on the cheek. “I’ll just have to steal one.”

  Then came Alec. I didn’t exactly know what to say to him, but I didn’t need to worry about it. He spoke first. “Can we talk privately for a moment?” His face was completely blank, making it impossible to know what he was thinking.

  “Um, sure?” I said, cocking my head. What did Alec want to talk to me about that was so secret?

  He led me into the kitchen where no o
ne could overhear us. “Sorry,” he said then. “It’s just that I wanted to ask you a personal question.”

  I shrugged, trying to hide my sudden apprehension. “Shoot.”

  “You always have your camera with you,” he stated, pointing down at it.

  My shoulders instantly relaxed. Of all the possibilities that had run through my head, my camera was not what I’d expected Alec to be curious about, but I didn’t mind. I could talk about photography all day long.

  “Yeah,” I said and picked it up from where it hung around my neck. I ran my thumb over a row of controls.

  “Why?” There were two little indents between his eyebrows as he frowned. His face was filled with concentration, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

  “Because I like taking pictures?” My response came out sounding like a question since I wasn’t completely sure what he was trying to get at.

  His mouth turned up into a grin, and even though it was only a small one, it was one of the first I had seen from him. It lit up his face and made his normally stormy gray eyes look blue. “I know that,” he said as he studied me, “but I can tell that it means something more to you. It’s like…” Alec trailed off, trying to think of a way to explain what he meant. “I’m having a hard time thinking of a good example, but for instance, some people always wear a specific piece of jewelry and never take it off. It isn’t just an accessory, but a source of strength. You know what I mean?” As he explained, he twisted the cord of the headphones hanging around his neck.

  I blinked, completely taken aback. From the start, I’d recognized that Alec was a quiet observer, the type of person who noticed everything. What I hadn’t realized was how perceptive he was. His guess was right on the money, so I decided he’d earned an explanation.

  “I got into photography right about the time Cara got sick,” I told him, trying to find the right place to start. “I had to be strong for her, but that was really hard. One day I was a normal teenager and the next my sister was dying. The whole thing knocked me off balance, you know?

  “I was a wreck on the inside because I was angry and afraid and all these other feelings I didn’t understand, so then I just started taking more and more pictures of, like, everything. But Cara was always my main subject. It was like I was trying to capture every single moment we had together in case—” I stopped, not wanting to finish my sentence.

  But my story was spilling from me like a gushing fountain, and I started up again. “I don’t know. I guess it was just easier to hide behind the lens of my camera. Having it with me has become such a habit that I just feel weird without it.”

  A silence passed between us. Alec looked at me funny, and then I realized what I’d just said. My hand flew to my mouth as a small gasp escaped my lips. I hadn’t meant to tell him that. It was like the words had left my mouth without me knowing.

  But Alec didn’t have that sad look in his eyes that I’d become accustomed to over the past few years. Instead, he held my gaze with a look of understanding, almost as if he’d expected the truth all along. He’d figured out the puzzle.

  “Thank you,” he said. His voice was low and quiet, and I knew he wouldn’t broach the subject again. “Can I ask you one more question? I promise it’s not as nosy as my first.”

  “Okay,” I said and grabbed on to my camera.

  “Could you send me the pictures you took tonight?” He held up a small piece of paper with what appeared to be an email address scribbled on it. “I’d like to have my own copies.”

  “Oh,” I said and loosened my tight grip on my camera. I took the paper from his hand. “Of course. I’ll edit them and have them to you by the end of the week.”

  Now Alec offered me his first full smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Stella?” Oliver popped his head into the kitchen and smiled when he saw me. “There you are.”

  “Tell your sister happy birthday for me,” Alec said and then moved out of the way so I could say good-bye to Oliver. Even though I hadn’t really been able to get to know him, I could tell that Alec was a genuinely nice guy.

  “I will,” I told him, and then he was gone, leaving Oliver and me alone.

  We were both silent as we studied one another. Finally, he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m glad you yelled at us.”

  “I—what?” This was a strange and confusing good-bye.

  “In the elevator,” he clarified. “I can’t ever forget you now, can I?” My mouth opened, but I didn’t know what to say. A quarter-sized lump formed at the back of my throat, so I closed my mouth and didn’t say anything.

  “Can I have your phone?” he asked suddenly.

  “My phone?” I asked, but I pulled it out of my pocket anyway.

  Oliver took it from me and started typing something in. “Here’s my number. Please don’t sell it to the tabloids for hundreds of dollars,” he joked.

  “Your number?” No guy had ever given me his number before.

  “I want you to call me, okay?” He handed it back after he finished punching his information in. “You promise to call?” I nodded my head, still unable to mutter a word. Oliver grasped both of my hands, his skin warm against mine. He rubbed his thumb in circles on my palm, just like he had when we were watching the movie.

  “God, I don’t want to say good-bye to you.” He sighed as he looked down at me.

  “Then don’t,” I finally said, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug. His hands snaked around my back in response, and I buried my face in his shoulder, my nose against his shirt. We stood there for a long moment, neither of us talking, and then someone cleared his throat behind us. I turned to see my brother standing in the kitchen doorway, and we detangled ourselves quickly.

  “You ready, Stella?” he asked me.

  “Yeah,” I responded, even though I was nowhere close to ready. When I turned to follow Drew, Oliver grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.

  “You remember what I said?”

  “Sell your number to the highest bidder?”

  “Please call.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter 8

  There was a knock on my door, and my dad pushed it open. “Hey, kiddo,” he said and leaned against the door frame.

  “Hey,” I replied before flopping back on the bed. For the past hour, I had been moping around my bedroom.

  “You sound tired.” Even though I couldn’t see his face, I could picture the frown lines etched into his forehead. My dad had developed the habit of being perpetually worried when Cara first got sick.

  “Didn’t sleep well,” I told him.

  Last night, when we got back from our trip, our parents told us the good news—Cara’s white blood cell count was doing better, and she was being released from the hospital. After that, I went straight to bed. Even though I was worn out, I had stared at the ceiling until early morning, unable to fall asleep. A certain boy had been on my mind.

  “Too excited about Cara coming home?” he asked.

  “Yeah, something like that.” I picked a spot on the ceiling and studied it, hoping that my dad wouldn’t hear my lie.

  Oliver was the reason I couldn’t sleep, not Cara. He’d given me his number and asked me to call. Was today too soon? Would it make me look desperate? Maybe I should hold off for a few days. But if I waited too long, would it look like I wasn’t interested? Calling or not calling was all I could think about.

  Was I a horrible sister because I was focused on Oliver Perry and not Cara? Yes, I was excited that she was coming home, but it didn’t mean her cancer was gone. She was still sick. And if there was one thing that I truly wanted, even more than a chance to spend more time with Oliver Perry, it was for my sister to get better.

  “Well, your brother and I helped her into the kitchen. Mom is making breakfast.”


  “Mom is cooking?” I sat up on the bed. My mom wasn’t much of a chef. She could make Easy Mac and PB&J, but normally family meals were my dad’s responsibility.

  “Attempting to. I should probably go help her before the pancakes turn into a scrambled mess.” Cara could live off pancakes, so it was no surprise that my mom wanted to make them. Syrup was practically a food group in our house.

  “Scramcakes,” I said with a smile.

  “Yeah, we don’t want that,” he said, laughing.

  As my dad turned to leave, Drew stuck his head into the room. “Hey, Stella, Cara keeps asking where we were the last two days. Can we just give our present to her now?” He was bouncing up and down, and I could tell that he couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

  “Sure thing,” I said and got off the bed. “Let me just get everything together.”

  “Okay. There are some birthday gift bags in the hall closet if you want to wrap everything up.”

  After grabbing a gift bag covered in glitter and tucking all the signed merchandise inside, I headed to the kitchen. My mom and dad were by the stove, and the smell of breakfast filled the room.

  “Stella!” Cara called and patted the chair next to her. She was at the table with Drew and they’d started playing Rummy 500, our family’s favorite card game. Dad had taught us how to play when we were little, and we’d been perfecting our own personal strategies ever since. Drew was the best out of the three of us, but I hated playing with Cara the most. Over the years, she’d earned the nickname The Scooper, because of her infuriating knack for scooping up the discard pile just when you wanted it the most.

  “Hey, you,” I said and smiled back. Cara was always buying wigs, and today she was sporting an edgy pixie cut. “Looking sassy today.”

  “You like?” She fluffed up the fake hair. “I think it brings out my rebellious side.”

  “Since when do you have a rebellious side?” Drew asked and shot her a skeptical look. It wasn’t that Cara was a goody two-shoes, but with her illness, she didn’t have the opportunity that normal teenagers did to break the rules.