Chapter 14
“Hey, Cara,” I said, when her phone went to voice mail. “I was just calling to tell you the blog is up, and that you were right. Paul loved the pictures. Give me a call when you get this. Love you. Bye.”
I hung up and tucked my phone away, my lips pressing together in a thin line.
The first thing I’d done when I left the café was call my sister.
When she didn’t pick up, I called Drew. He didn’t answer either, and after the thrill of posting my pictures, their silence was a letdown.
I wanted to share my high, to let them know that I was starting to believe that accepting this job was the best thing for me, but what was the point of doing something exciting if I didn’t have someone to celebrate with?
Back at the hotel, I found the band in their suite.
“Stella! Get over here. Someone needs to tell these idiots that Thai food is ten times better than ordering boring pizza,” JJ complained.
“Oh hell no,” Oliver said. He snatched the Thai menu from JJ’s hands.
“Why not?” I asked, sliding into a chair next to Alec. “I could totally go for some pad thai right now.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Oliver said. “I love Thai food. It would totally hit the spot right now, but last time we ordered it, JJ stank up the plane with his poisonous gas. It reeked of spicy butt noodles.”
“Besides,” Xander added, “there’s not much I can order from a Thai place, allergies and all.”
I wrinkled my nose in disgust. “You guys order what you want. I think I just lost my appetite.”
“Fine, how about Mexican?” JJ suggested.
Oliver shot him a look. “How is that any better?”
In the end, the guys decided on subs, much to JJ’s dismay. When the food was delivered, we all sat at the kitchen table to eat. I’d ordered a sandwich, even though I wasn’t in the mood; I knew my stomach would grumble as soon as I saw the guys eating.
“Tuna-fish melt,” I said, reading off the order scribbled on the outside wrapping. Alec held up his hand and I passed it to him. Next I pulled out the salad, which I knew was Xander’s before he said anything. Then I grabbed another sandwich. “California club?”
“Right here,” Oliver said, raising a finger.
He reached across the table to grab his sandwich, and our hands brushed as he took his food.
I quickly yanked back. Ever since Wednesday, things were weird between us.
We avoided being alone together in the same room, and all of our conversations were forced, like distant relatives who had nothing to talk about but were trying to be polite.
Looking away from him, I dug back into the bag and pulled out the final sub. “Meatball melt,” I announced and handed it to JJ. He muttered something under his breath about the injustice, but took his food without further comment.
“Are there any napkins?” Alec asked as he tried to cut his sub in half with a plastic knife.
I dumped out the remaining contents of the bag. A wad of napkins fell out, along with a stockpile of little red packets. “What’s with all the ketchup?” I asked. It looked like the sub shop gave us enough tomato sauce to make it through the year.
“For my sub,” JJ said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.
Xander made a face. “It’s totally gross. He puts it on everything.”
“Really?” I asked as I took a packet for myself. “That’s funny. Me too.”
JJ gave me a nod of approval. “Ketchup should be its own food group.”
“I used to eat it with a spoon when I was a little kid,” I admitted.
For the first time since we shot down his Thai food idea, JJ grinned. “I used to do that too! We should be ketchup buddies!”
“Just thinking about that makes me want to throw up,” Xander said. “Do you know how much sugar is in one of those little packets?”
“I’ve never met anyone who likes ketchup as much as me,” I told JJ, ignoring Xander.
“Well, I doubt that you like it as much as I do,” JJ said and puffed out his chest.
“Wanna bet?”
He leaned across the table and narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re on.”
Fifteen minutes later, Oliver and Alec returned to the room with two economy-sized containers of ketchup from the hotel kitchen. Oliver set one down in front of JJ, while Alec put the other next to me. Xander went to the kitchen to get two spoons.
“All right,” Oliver said, sitting down between us.
Something about the competition seemed to lighten his mood, like he’d forgotten about the tension between us.
“Here are the rules. Whoever can eat the most ketchup wins and will be declared the biggest ketchup fan. This is not a race. Contenders will eat equal amounts of ketchup until someone gets sick and gives up. Are the rules clear?”
JJ and I both nodded, but I was worried that since he was bigger than me, he’d be able to eat more. The only advantage I had was that JJ had already finished his entire sub while I was starting on an empty stomach. “All right, ketchup lovers, grab your spoons.”
I picked up my utensil and dunked it into the thick, red goo.
When JJ and I shoveled the first spoonful into our mouths, Xander’s face turned green and he gave the rest of his salad to Alec. “That’s disgusting,” he said, trying not to gag.
After a few spoonfuls, JJ frowned. “This tastes funny.” I raised an eyebrow in response. Tasted fine to me.
“It’s a brand-new container of ketchup,” Oliver said. When he looked away, I saw his lips twitch.
Four spoonfuls of ketchup later, JJ reached for his soda.
“Why is it so hot?” he asked, but he continued to keep pace with me.
Soon JJ had finished his entire coke and his upper lip was glistening with a layer of sweat.
Finally, he pushed his tub of ketchup away.
“Someone tampered with this.” He looked at Oliver in suspicion.
“Are you giving up?” Oliver asked. He had a guilty smirk plastered across his face.
“No, I’m saying this wasn’t a fair competition. My mouth is on fire.”
“Sounds like an excuse,” Oliver said. “You’re too embarrassed to admit that a girl is going to beat you.”
This shut JJ up and he pulled the ketchup back over, but he only managed a few more spoonfuls before drops of sweat were running down his face. “I need water,” he gasped, pushing away from the table and rushing into the kitchen.
“Thank God,” I sighed and let my spoon clatter to the table. I loved ketchup, but I could barely manage another bite myself.
“And Stella Samuel is the winner!” Oliver said, shouting out my victory like a sports announcer. “The crowd goes wild!” Alec and Xander both cupped their hands around their mouths and imitated the roar of a packed stadium.
“What was in the ketchup?” I asked. JJ was bent over the sink with the faucet running, mouth wide open as he gulped down as much cold water as possible. Oliver pulled something out of his pocket, placed it on the table, and smirked. It was an empty bottle of hot sauce. I laughed. “You’re evil.”
“No, I’m an opportunist. I could never pass up the chance to mess with JJ.” The dimples from his smirk made me smile up at him for the first time since rehearsals, but then my phone buzzed.
Scrambling out of my seat, I pulled it from my back pocket in hopes that it was a text from Cara. But it wasn’t. I’d received a message from the bank informing me that a transfer had been made to my account—my first payment from Paul. I heaved a sigh and dropped back down into the chair.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Oliver asked. He squatted down so we were at eye level with one another and fixed his sparkly blue gaze on me. After two days of acting distant and stiff, his abrupt change to the funny, caring guy I met in Chicago made me pause.
“I—it’s nothing,” I said, turning my cell phone over in my hands.
Oliver shot me a doubtful look, but his eyes were tender. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”
“I’m fine,” I said and forced a smile. “Just a little homesick, that’s all. I uploaded my first post for the blog today, and I wanted to tell Cara and Drew about it, but neither of them are answering.”
“Homesick, huh?” Oliver ran a finger back and forth across his lips as he thought. After a few seconds he said, “I think I have a solution.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
Unless Oliver could suddenly make my siblings appear, it was highly unlikely he could actually come up with something that could pull me out of this mood. However, it was sweet, if not totally unexpected, of him to want to do something to make me feel better.
He grinned at me then, and it was the type of smile that made me fear what was going to be said next. “A party.” His delivery was filled with the type of excitement I’d come to expect from JJ when he came up with a really awful idea.
“A party,” I repeated. I could write an entire book on why that was a bad idea.
“Yeah, to cheer you up.” He lightly touched my shoulder, and I was so amazed by the gesture after his cold attitude that I looked down at his hand. He pulled away quickly and added, “You should be celebrating.”
The word “no” was perched on my lips. I wasn’t in a party mode, and there was no way loud music, a crowded room full of people I didn’t know, and alcohol were going to change that.
Before I could tell him that, Oliver stood up and turned to the rest of the guys, who were still discussing the ketchup-eating contest.
“Hey,” he shouted and clapped his hands to get their attention. “What do you guys think about throwing a party to celebrate Stella’s first blog post?”
Xander, Alec, and JJ looked back and forth at each other before simultaneously nodding their heads in agreement.
“I think one of my good DJ friends is in town,” Alec said and pulled out his phone. “Let me see if he’s free.”
“We need champagne!” Xander said, pushing his glasses up in place on his nose. “Lots and lots of champagne!”
“Guys,” I said, “I don’t need a party.”
JJ pointed a finger at me. “Don’t even try talking yourself out of this one, Stella. You promised, remember?”