Keep

He grinned. “Don’t forget…you’re welcome on set anytime.”

When hell freezes over. “I know.”

Jay started to talk away and then paused before grabbing his keys and turning back around. “This girl, she isn’t like…” He did a weird thing with his hands in the air and then coughed. “The one?”

“Whoa!” I matched his awkward hand motions. “There will be none of that.”

“Because you’re afraid of girls?”

“I threw many a rocks in my day.”

“Hah.” Jay nodded. “Fine, fine, just, remember, she’s a mere mortal, you can’t run around naked pelting her with marshmallows and writing her love notes with a circle yes or no life decision, alright?”

“Like I would ever confess my love in a note. I’m more of a sing-my-feelings sort of guy.”

“I know this. So does the rest of America. Just tread carefully…sometimes the ones we think are the strongest are the most frail.” He eyed me up and down. “Case in point.”

“Message received.”

“Good talk.”

“Yup.”

“Don’t give away your V card to a girl who won’t appreciate it, man.”

“Dude.” I shook my head. “Too far. Go to work already so you can come home and make sweet love to Mom.”

“Gross.”

“Hey, you’re the one treating me like I’m your child.”

“Bastard.” He chuckled as the door slammed behind him.

I snatched my coffee off the bar and made my way back into the bedroom, my eyes locking in on my guitar and the stupid clothes I knew would have to accompany it if I didn’t want to get arrested while hanging out with Fallon.

With resignation, I marched over to the clothes and pulled them on. It felt like my life, the way I put on clothes.

I wanted to be secure.

Naked.

Myself.

I put on clothes because my true self wasn’t accepted…not really. Because even though people screamed “Saint”—what they really wanted was a sinner.

Sometimes I hated my life.

Chapter Ten

Fallon

YOU KNOW HOW DOCTORS always say never to do an internet search of your symptoms? I believed them. I refused to Google anything.

I’d always been cautious to a fault.

Half nerd, half goody two-shoes.

More focused on my grades than my hair or the fact that girls around me were wearing heels while I was still sporting chucks and vintage band T-shirts.

So, the morning after seeing Zane, after agreeing to his asinine plan and walking home in a complete daze.

I did the unthinkable.

I typed in his name.

Zane Andrews.

My first mistake was assuming that it would be all about his music and his time in Seaside.

Instead, there were so many pictures of the guy shirtless that I almost dropped my phone in my bowl of oatmeal, and about died on the spot when my dad snatched my phone instead of his off the table.

And being an idiot, mine wasn’t password protected.

So he got a huge eyeful of chest.

And nearly collided with a wall in an attempt to get away from the kitchen and his daughter’s dirty pictures.

“What’s the plan for today?” Mom plopped down next to me and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Work and then home?”

I squirmed in my seat.

“Stop that,” she said without looking up from her own phone. “You always fidget when you’re nervous. Now, no lying.”

Groaning, I pushed around a few raisins in my bowl. “I’m working the morning shift and then…hanging out with Zane.”

My mom didn’t say anything. I chanced a look at her out of the corner of my eye.

Her smile was frozen on her face. “Honey…” She set down her phone and touched my hand. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

I pushed my black glasses, the ones that had been fixed the day before, up my nose and sighed. “Mom, it’s not like that.”

“He’s a guy, a famous guy, and you’re just…” She tilted her head as if she couldn’t come up with one single word in the English vocabulary that would describe the enigma that was her daughter. “You.”

“Is this where you actually do the opposite of parents worldwide and tell me not to act like myself?”

“You don’t stutter around him.”

“I don’t stutter around you guys either.”

“All those years of speech therapy.” She sighed. “And look, it only happens when you get frustrated or nervous…but…” Then she frowned. “He doesn’t make you nervous, does he?”

“Look.” I stood to put some space between us and the uncomfortable conversation. “I’m going to be late for work, I swear it’ll be fine. We’re friends. He’s not into me in that way, and I’m sure not into him in that way either. We’re from completely different planets.” Besides, guys like him, they just couldn’t help themselves. All females—males too—stared. It worked for him, but I wasn’t sure I would ever be comfortable with that type of attention.

“Okay.” Mom nodded sagely and held out my phone.

I tried grabbing it, but she didn’t let go. “Mom.”

“He doesn’t do drugs does he?”

“Mom.” I snapped grabbing my phone. “No, of course not!”