Chapter 32
32
Caleb
The next twenty-four hours are a blur.
Somehow I manage to leave the stadium, check into a different hotel, and book a new flight for the afternoon after the concert, but I’m so numb I hardly clock any of it.
I just know I never should have come to LA.
When Valerie showed up unannounced on my doorstep, I should have closed the door in her face, but I wasn’t strong enough to resist her. One look at those ocean eyes and I was under her spell again. Some na?ve part of me hoped this time would be different. I thought we’d both changed enough to replace our bitter memories of those final Glitter Bats days with some good ones. One last time.
I should have known it would end like this: her chasing the limelight, me running again into the night. Does she even care that she broke my heart all over again?
By the time my plane lands, I’m ready to put everything behind me. As much as I want to drive straight home, I stop at a restaurant to order pizza and fancy beer to thank Cam and Leah for babysitting my dog. Despite the heat of the summer, I tug my hood up like a shield when the guy taking orders stares a little too intently at me from behind the counter. It’s all I can do to escape before I’m recognized.
When I get to their house, I hug my family without saying another word, then drown my feelings in cheesy carbs and a few beers. Sebastian Bark would not leave my side at first, and it almost felt like everything was back to normal. But after he stole some pepperoni from my pizza and hightailed it out of there, I realized that was more about the food than missing me. Even the dog I rescued can’t be loyal. Still, it’s nice to be home…whatever that means anymore.
I can’t even make sense of the jumble of feelings in my chest. Anger. Embarrassment. Numb disbelief. I should have seen Valerie’s scheme coming, and I’m a fool for thinking I could trust her.
We’re watching an iconic episode of Schitt’s Creek— the one when Patrick serenades David, even though it feels a little on the nose—when Leah asks the question.
“You want to talk about it?”
I groan. “Which part?”
She quirks a brow. “Wherever you want to start.”
Wherever I want to start , as if it would be that easy to pick a point. My mind whirls with anxiety and a light buzz of alcohol and the weight of everything that’s happened over the past twenty-four hours. The past seven weeks. The past six years. Shit, maybe more like the past ten, since we were starry-eyed teens who made that cursed deal with the demon that is Label Records.
“No,” I say. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Cameron crosses her arms, ever the disbelieving older sister. “Fuck that. You obviously need to vent.”
She knows me too well, and I sigh. “It’s just too much. I need to, I don’t know, process it before I can make sense of anything. I don’t want to relive all of that drama more than once.”
Cameron scoffs. “You want drama? I had a bored teenager re-break her leg post-surgery today because she tried to take a shower without asking for a nurse, and the parents yelled at me because she’s an equestrian who’s ‘missing competition season.’ Your drama is nothing.”
My stomach twists, because Cameron is absolutely right. Her work drama may be less public than mine, but she’s dealing with illnesses and injuries and people on the worst days of their lives.
Leah puts a hand on Cameron’s arm. “His emotions are still valid.”
Cameron sighs. “I know. I just want him to talk about it, and I thought guilt was a good motivator.”
“I hate you,” I say, but there’s no malice in it. I know what she’s doing. “I mean, you saw the concert. You know what happened.”
“We saw the livestream,” Cameron says. “And I’m sorry. We wanted to come out there, but I was on call last minute.”
“Well, you didn’t miss anything,” I say dryly.
Leah sighs. “Remember, we only saw what they presented to the public. The livestream cut off right after you left the stage, so it must have been a little delayed—like they were trying to control the damage. Why don’t you tell us your side of the story?” she prompts gently.
I take a long swig of my beer. It’s a little bitter, but so am I. “Valerie and I…” I don’t even know how to describe it. “We got involved again.”
“Oh, shocker,” Cameron says. “Dude, you know it’s been all over the media, right?”
I groan. “Yeah, but most of that was more like fake dating for the cameras. It was all about playing it up, trying to help her get some positive press, that kind of thing.”
“Well all of those kisses looked real,” Cameron says.
I lean my head against the couch, sighing. “They were.”
“Wait, I’m confused,” Leah says. “You pretended to date…but you were actually dating?”
Is it “dating” if you’ve been pining for your ex-situationship from afar for six years, then started hooking up again, admitted there are feelings, but neglected to ever put a label on it? “Kind of?”
“So you were sleeping with her, at least,” Cameron says.
I choke on my beer, feeling the heat flood to my cheeks. “Jesus Christ, I’m not going to talk about my sex life with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re my sister!”
She shrugs, glancing at Leah. “We have sex, lots of it. Does that help?”
“No!” I say, shuddering. I don’t want to think about that either.
Leah smirks, but she doesn’t help me out, just takes a smug bite of her pizza.
Finally, I recover. “I mean, how is that relevant to the story?”
“Sex always makes things more complicated,” Leah says sagely.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, fine, we were sleeping together. Better than it ever was before. You happy?”
“You are very upset for someone who’s been getting lucky all summer after—what—an eight-month-long dry spell?” Cameron says.
“I’ve dated since Morgan! And that’s completely irrelevant. Did you miss the part where Valerie tried to manipulate me into returning to the scene full-time?”
“Is that really what happened?” Leah asks, her voice soft and gentle, like she’s afraid to spook me. “She manipulated you?”
I shake my head. “I think so? Things were going great, but we didn’t really talk about what would happen after the concert. I mean, I told her that I hoped we could figure something out, but how does that translate to ‘let’s surprise everyone by announcing a permanent comeback’? She did this without consulting me or anyone else in the band. She didn’t even tell our manager!”
I found that out when Wade texted to ask if I was okay, and if I knew what she was planning. The only answer I could give him was no.
I gasp, trying to catch my breath. Saying it all out loud doesn’t exactly make me feel better, but bottling it up wasn’t working. “I just…I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. I was so stupid.”
“Let it out,” Cameron says. “This sucks, but it isn’t on you.”
“You have every right to be upset,” Leah adds.
“I know!” I say, adrenaline rushing through me. I take another sip of beer, trying to steady myself. “Valerie betrayed my trust and assumed I would just go along with it, the way I’ve gone along with everything else this summer.”
“Is that why you walked offstage?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair, pizza grease be damned. “I don’t know, maybe? I just couldn’t be there anymore. I didn’t want people to think I had any part in her statement.”
It was all too much. I couldn’t face Valerie treating me like this again—like I’m just a ticket to fame, not a person she loves.
“Don’t you think that maybe…” Leah begins.
“What?” I demand, a little too harshly. I swallow, trying to calm my racing heart.
Leah and Cameron share a look. Finally, my sister speaks up.
“Maybe you should have stuck around to understand why she did it? At least until the end of the show? Maybe you could have worked something out.”
Shame twists in my gut. Valerie betrayed my trust again, and I’m allowed to keep boundaries in place. She did the one thing we said we wouldn’t do—promised another album to Label Records. But to the audience, it must have looked like I was throwing a fit. Give it two days, and I’ll be on a Gossip Daily list of the worst diva moments in rock history. I mean, who leaves in the middle of a show?
Me.
Unless they spin it to blame her, the way they did six years ago.
I left the tour last time Valerie and I argued, and this time I couldn’t even finish out the night. I’m very good at leaving her.
“Fuck, maybe,” I say. “I was just so hurt and confused and…I ran. Again.”
A familiar voice interrupts. “Does Valerie’s announcement have anything to do with her TV show getting canceled?”
We all turn to the front door, where my baby sister has just walked right in, somehow without any of us hearing her arrive. Sebastian Bark and Strawberry bolt for Carrie, giving her kisses and demanding pets.
“Where did you come from?” Cameron demands, jumping out of her spot on the couch. She pulls her into a fierce hug.
Carrie shrugs when they part. “I knew Caleb would be upset, and I wanted to be here,” she says, like that’s a good-enough reason for a seventeen-year-old to show up unannounced at eight p.m., more than two hours away from her own house.
“You drove through the Seattle-to-Portland traffic while you were texting me? What the hell?” Cameron says.
Carrie grins, flipping her short, dark waves over her shoulder. “I used speech-to-text. I’m an excellent driver. I took an extra traffic safety course to save money on car insurance.”
“We’re glad you got here safe, honey,” Leah says, hurrying over to hug her too. I feel completely out of my element, on the way from tipsy to drunk with my baby sister here. Carrie launches herself at me.
“Gross, you smell like beer,” she says, burrowing into my shoulder. “But I missed you anyway.”
“I don’t like that you know what beer smells like,” I say as she pulls back to frown at me. “Does Mom know you’re here?”
Carrie glances at her shoes before looking back up at me. “Mom hasn’t been home in three days. Your manager hooked us up with tickets, including travel, and I was going to surprise you yesterday in VIP. But Mom never showed, and I didn’t want to leave on my own in case she came back.”
God, I wish my mom could focus on her kids for once. It makes me want to fight to enroll Carrie in school here and make her move in with one of us, just so I can watch her, but I know that’s not what she wants for her last year of high school. But Mom needs to know this isn’t okay.
“I’m going to call her right now,” I say.
“Please don’t! I’m here for you .”
Cameron puts her hands on her hips. “I’m texting Mom that you’re here and you’re safe, and reminding her that even though you’re one of the most responsible kids in the world, she still needs to check on you.”
Carrie rolls her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. But back to my question—do you think Valerie’s stunt had to do with the Epic Theme Song cancellation?”
My heart sinks as what she’s saying really sets in. “When did Epic Theme Song get canceled? I thought it was all still up in the air.” That was the entire point of this charade.
She shrugs. “I don’t know—it was all over the internet yesterday right before the concert started, so I assume the decision happened recently. Maybe even that morning.”
Suddenly, everything starts to make sense. Valerie’s strange behavior at sound check, being elusive, “making calls” when we were supposed to focus—she found out about the cancellation and panicked. But I wish she would have talked to me first before making some desperate grab for more Glitter Bats. She should have told me what was going on.
Doesn’t she trust me?
“That doesn’t excuse what she did,” I say, but the back of my neck prickles. Suddenly, I see yesterday in a different light.
“No, but it sucks,” Carrie says. “Wonderfans are pissed. We made fan art and memes and fic, covered songs, signed petitions—hell, we even got it trending in the US and France and fucking Brazil —but they still canceled the show.”
“Don’t say fuck ,” Cameron and I say in unison.
Carrie laughs. “I’ll be eighteen in like two months. And you say it all the time, Cam.”
Cameron sighs. “Whatever. So you’re saying the show got canceled and you think Valerie…panicked? That’s what all this was?”
“That’s exactly what we think,” Carrie says. “So I saw what happened and put the pieces together, and I only came down because I wanted to make sure Caleb was okay.” She gestures with the keys still in her hand. “But I can drive back if you want.”
“In the dark? Absolutely not. Go grab some pizza and I’ll make up the guest room with fresh sheets. Sebastian Bark has been crashing there,” Leah says.
“Thank you, Car. You shouldn’t have come all this way alone, but I’m glad you’re here,” I say.
“I think you forget because you’re always taking care of everyone else, but you need us sometimes too, Caleb.”
My eyes sting, and I pull my little sister into another hug. I’ve been second-guessing my decision to leave the Glitter Bats all summer, drawn in by nostalgia, by the joy of working with my friends again, by Valerie’s allure. But if I’d still been on the road all these years, I never would have known how much my family needed me. Or maybe my sister is right, and it’s more about how much I needed them.
Everything hurts right now, but at least I’m not alone.