Chapter 3
‘This is bordering on stalker behavior,’Chloe says as Devin parks the car.
‘Not really,’ Devin responds airily. ‘Fans do shit like this all the time. It’s—well, it’s not normal, but it happens.’
Chloe looks up at the concert venue and grimaces. The building stands tall and imposing, surrounded by hundreds of fans already waiting to get inside. Some are in a loosely-formed line, clearly having camped out for the chance to get inside first. Others are hanging out further away, blasting Reckless 3’s music from their car speakers and pregaming before the show.
It’s almost a picture-perfect replica of the day Devin and Chloe went to the concert in Nashville—the day that changed everything.
‘Chloe’s right, this is kind of creepy,’ Elena agrees. ‘I mean, driving all the way to Atlanta is weird enough, but?—’
‘Well, Luke’s not responding to any of our messages,’ Devin reminds them. She parks the car with a jerk, then digs through her purse and retrieves a pair of oversized sunglasses. She slides them over her nose, looking from Elena to Chloe. ‘What else are we supposed to do?’
‘Literally anything but this,’ Elena mutters, but she climbs out of the car all the same. Devin makes a show of pulling down her sunglasses and rolling her eyes.
‘Alright, lame-os,’ she says tartly. ‘You both need to stop being such chickens. I’m gonna go pick up our tickets.’
Chloe and Elena share a look, but don’t say anything as Devin waltzes off. Chloe loops her arm through Elena’s, and together they walk around to the back of the line.
Absent-mindedly, Chloe rests her other hand on the base of her stomach.
The past few days were messy, to say the least. Telling her mom and step-dad about the baby was…challenging. Elena had offered to be there when she told them, but Chloe knew it was something she needed to do on her own. Still, she was shaking like a leaf when she called them into the living room. The words got stuck on her tongue, and then she finally spit them out.
Lisa cried, which made Chloe cry. Chloe felt like a child, crawling to the couch to curl up into her mother’s embrace. Something loosened in her chest when Lisa held her, murmuring into her hair that everything would be alright.
And tightened again immediately when Lisa asked when she wanted to go to Planned Parenthood.
They didn’t understand why Chloe wanted to keep the baby or how Chloe could have ended up pregnant by a one-night-stand in the first place. Chloe tried to explain, but it was hard to put her feelings into words.
‘Sweetheart, I don’t think you understand how hard this is going to be,’ Lisa had told her as she wiped the tears from Chloe’s cheeks. ‘This isn’t a decision you can take back later.’
‘I know, Mom,’ Chloe had argued, her traitorous voice wobbling. The little dent between Lisa’s eyebrows deepened alongside her worry.
‘We could?—’
Something in Chloe’s eyes must have shown how dead-set she was because her step-dad Charlie gave a deep sigh, cutting Lisa off before she could argue more.
‘You’ve thought this through?’ he’d asked her. Throat tight, Chloe nodded. He sighed again, then said to Lisa, ‘We’re not gonna change her mind, honey.’
Lisa’s arguments died after that. But although Chloe knew her parents would be behind her through this—knew they loved her and were just worried about her future—she also knew they wouldn’t look at her the same.
She was always the good girl, and now she was the disappointment.
The worst, though, was the phone call to her father.
Mark Cameron had been in and out of Chloe’s life ever since he divorced Lisa, but he’d always been present enough that Chloe felt obligated to tell him directly about her pregnancy rather than risk him finding out indirectly online. Her hands had shaken while she dialed his number, praying it would go to voicemail and she could put off the conversation just a little while longer.
But he did answer, and it did not go well.
‘How could you be so stupid?’ Mark had spat down the line. Chloe cringes just remembering the vitriol in his voice. ‘You don’t even have a real job and you think you can raise a kid? Shouldn’t you be learning from my mistakes, not just repeating them yourself?’
He voiced every doubt that had been swimming through Chloe’s head ever since she found out and he spit them right in her face. How her job wasn’t enough to support her, let alone a baby as well. How her degree was useless in getting a job and she was drowning in student debt. How she was just a stupid kid who didn’t know anything about babies, let alone about raising one.
Chloe swallows against the lump forming in her throat.
So, the trip actually has a dual purpose for Chloe. The first, and biggest, reason is of course to find Luke and tell him about the baby. But it’s also allowing her to get some space from her parents and their disappointment in her life choices.
At the very least, Lisa and Charlie had both agreed that Luke deserved to know about the baby. They didn’t try to stop her from coming—Charlie even slipped her some money for gas and the hotel. Even so, the palpable disappointment in the house stung.
Stepping out into the Atlanta air made her feel like she can actually breathe again.
Elena bumps her hip against Chloe, her eyebrows knitting together in concern. ‘You okay?’
Chloe shakes her head, silently willing her negative thoughts to float away. She doesn’t need her parents—she has her friends. They’ve proven that they’ll support her through anything.
That’s more than enough.
‘I’m fine,’ she answers. The two of them reach the end of the long line and settle down on the cool concrete. ‘Just tired, it was a long drive.’
‘It’ll be a longer night still,’ Elena murmurs.
‘At least it’ll be fun,’ Chloe says, ignoring the fact that she doesn’t even like concerts. Elena looks at her, unimpressed. She’s always seen right through any and all of Chloe’s bullshit.
‘I can feel the headache coming on already,’ Elena replies drily. Chloe snickers into Elena’s shoulder, the girls sitting in a circle in front of them shooting them both glares.
‘Well, I appreciate your sacrifice to the cause.’
Elena smiles, her face glowing in the afternoon sunlight. Chloe settles in next to her, leaning against the wall behind her, the rough brick warm from the afternoon sun. Her stomach twists with nerves, just as it’s been for the majority of the car ride down.
There’s a large part of Chloe that just wants to bolt, to run far away, or to pretend they told Luke everything and just move on with her life. Something about this feels so humiliating—having to face him and tell him the truth.
It feels worse than telling her parents.
But that doesn’t matter. Luke deserves to know, even if he’s not going to want to have anything to do with the baby. And Chloe won’t have to feel guilty about not telling him for the rest of her life.
Devin makes her way back to them slowly, chatting with a group she’s picked up along the way. It’s always like this. Chloe and Elena cling to each other while Devin picks up fair weather friends like candy—quick, easy and gone before you blink. Chloe and Elena are less personable, while Devin is so outgoing she draws people to her.
Devin’s group settles in around Chloe and Elena as if they were saving their spot in line. Chloe scoots over, feeling the familiar sense of claustrophobia at being surrounded by strangers. Elena squeezes her hand.
Time passes slowly as they sit in the Georgia heat. The sun bakes down on the entire line, hot and heavy. Chloe leans on Elena’s shoulder, sipping a lukewarm bottle of water they found in the back of Devin’s car.
Elena taps furiously on her phone screen, likely working on an assignment for grad school in her Notes app. Or something equally productive. Devin chats lightly with the group of people behind them, ever the social butterfly.
Chloe’s gaze drifts over to the line up by the doors. The fans up front, all sporting homemade R3 T-shirts, sit behind a velvet rope indicating the front of the line. She watches as a group of girls approach the rope, bypassing the whole line. The usher lets them inside quickly.
‘Why do they get to go inside already?’ Chloe asks with jealousy evident in her voice, nudging Elena. Elena glances up and shrugs, returning to her work.
Chloe pouts. She reminds herself that Elena is doing her a big favor by coming all the way to Atlanta, and she can’t be annoyed that she has work to do while they are here.
‘They’re probably going to the meet and greet,’ one of the girls in front of them says, watching a second group be let inside. ‘Lucky bitches.’
‘Rich bitches,’ her friend corrects. ‘Having enough money to drop on meet and greet passes isn’t luck, Syd.’
‘Whatever,’ the first girl—Syd, grumbles. She leans back on her hands, face turned to the sun. ‘I would kill for a pass, though.’
‘Me, too,’ Chloe says, an idea forming in her mind.
Something about Chloe’s tone was enough to catch Elena’s attention. She lowers her phone slowly, eyeing Chloe.
‘What are you thinking, CJ?’
‘Wait here.’ Chloe waves her off, standing. ‘I’ll be back in a sec.’
She knows this is stupid. It won’t work. But isn’t a meet and greet a better way to meet the band than trying to hang around after the concert, or follow them to an after party? And Chloe really doesn’t want to use Devin’s backup plan—following them back to their hotel and ambushing Luke there.
Still, that doesn’t stop her heart from thumping harder in her chest, her blood from buzzing beneath her skin and her palms from sweating in her fists.
This isn’t going to work, this isn’t going to?—
With a shake of her head, Chloe stops that thought in its tracks. If she thinks about it too much, she’s going to chicken out.
Maybe she should have sent Devin instead.
She walks up slowly alongside a small group of girls heading towards the doors. She falls behind them carefully, close enough to look like she’s with them. One of the girls eyes her suspiciously. Chloe just smiles back innocently.
All five of the girls sport the same neon yellow wristbands on their right wrists. Realizing that the wristband is probably their ticket in, she digs through her purse until she finds a yellow scrunchie at the bottom of her bag. It’s not quite the same shade of yellow, but with a stroke of luck?—
‘Wristband?’ The usher manning the doors holds a hand out, blocking Chloe’s path. Chloe staggers back, quickly flashing her wrist and hiding it behind her body.
‘There, see?’
The usher raises his eyebrows, unamused. He holds his hand out palm up, snapping until Chloe reluctantly holds her wrist out for him to see. ‘No getting into the meet and greet without a wristband. Back of the line, please.’
Chloe burst into tears.
Normally, she’s terrible at fake-crying. But she’s already been getting hit with pregnancy hormones, and the next thing she knows there are real tears streaming down her cheeks.
Yeah, much more convincing.
She presses her hands to her eyes, exaggerating her sobs to sound louder and more pathetic.
‘I-I-I lost it!’ she wails, peeking through the spaces between her fingers. The usher gapes at her. He’s an older man, and clearly very put off by a woman crying. ‘I’ve been waiting years for-for the chance to meet Reckless 3 and—I can’t believe I can’t meet them anymore.’
‘Now,’ the usher says awkwardly, holding out his hand as if to pat her shoulder. He hesitates, then drops the arm to his side. ‘There’s no need to get emotional about it, young lady.’
On the inside , Chloe seethes at being called “emotional” and “young lady” by some old white man. But on the outside, she cries harder.
‘But-but I spent so much money,’ she sobs. She knows she must be drawing an audience, but she keeps at it. Chloe Cameron is nothing if not committed. ‘And-and now I can’t even meet Maverick Carter!’
She dissolves into loud, heartbroken sobs not unlike a teenager after her first breakup. Through her fingers, she watches as the usher shifts uncomfortably, then looks around quickly.
The next thing she knows, the usher is gently grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her inside. The air-conditioning unit blows right on top of her, feeling like a little slice of heaven after the late summer heat outside. Chloe gasps, trying to control the fake-yet-almost-real sobs as she realizes her ploy worked.
‘Just—follow them to the meet and greet, okay?’ he says softly, pushing her towards the large group of fans who all stare at her. ‘And maybe clean yourself up a little before the band shows up.’
Chloe thanks him profusely, feeling slightly guilty for lying to him. She joins the back of the meet and greet line, using her yellow scrunchie to tie her hair back. She digs out her phone, half-listening as the employees corral them into a single-file line.
Groupchat: Road Trip!!
4:28 PM
Chloe
i’m in for the meet n greet! i’ll see what i can do and meet up with you guys for the concert later
Devin
wonderful performance, cj
what a fuckin drama queen
i’m so proud
Elena
Are you going to tell Luke about the baby at the meet and greet?
In front of everyone?
Chloe
god no
i’ll like pull him to the side or something
god knows he won’t give me another chance to tell him after this
Devin
yeah lmao he’s gonna think your NUTS
Chloe
THIS WAS YOUR IDEA
Half an hour later, the door at the head of the line opens. Chloe perks up from her seat on the floor alongside the rest of the fans waiting impatiently to meet the band. The line, which has grown a bit behind Chloe as the final stragglers arrived, breaks out into excited chatter. Overall, there are about forty fans jumping to their feet, most of them around Chloe’s age.
Reckless 3 formed as a band back when Chloe was a sophomore in high school, when Maverick Carter and Luke Waters were seventeen. They got big locally and then online, gaining momentum quickly even with the change in drummer two years after the band’s inception. Much of their fanbase has stayed the same over the years—then teenage girls who’ve grown up alongside the band—but with each album and EP release they’ve gained a more diverse fanbase when it comes to age and gender. Still, it’s apparent to Chloe that the meet and greet passes had mostly been purchased by a lot of those original fans.
Chloe sends a quick update to Elena and Devin as a stagehand at the door ushers them backstage.
‘Please, keep your hands to yourself as you walk,’ she shouts, her large voice making up for her short stature. ‘Everything you see is needed for the show tonight, so please don’t break anything. Or, god forbid, steal.’
Chloe eyes a couple teenagers halfway up the line, whose hands are certainly not keeping to themselves. Her phone buzzes in her hands—a reply from Devin. Apparently, the two of them are having a great time outside. A pang of loneliness shoots through Chloe, the same selfish kind that comes whenever her friends are having fun without her.
Vaguely, she wonders if she will feel that type of loneliness a lot more once the baby is here and she has so many more responsibilities and so much less free time. Or will she be too preoccupied with diapers, bottles, and cheesy kids’ TV to notice?
Neither option provides much comfort.
Chloe folds her arms across her chest, hugging herself slightly. Her gaze flits across the backstage area, gawking at all the band equipment lying around as stagehands work to set up for the show. They work in unison, a routine perfected over months of practice. There’s a palpable excitement in the air. It feels gritty, grungy, in a way that almost feels glamorous.
The line is led down a white hall and everyone comes to a stop. The stagehand at the front chooses the first group, then sends them inside a door for the meet and greet.
Chloe’s heart pounds in her chest, almost to the point of pain, each time a group is let inside. With each shuffle as the line moves, she’s getting closer to Luke—to dropping this bomb on him. Her stomach twists. Every muscle in her body aches to bolt, to run far, far away. Anything to keep her from having to confront this.
And then it’s her turn.
Chloe’s become keenly aware that the volume in the hallway has gone down exponentially as more and more people filter into the room, but suddenly it feels deathly quiet as the stagehand opens the door and lets them in.
‘You have three minutes to talk to the band,’ the stagehand says as she opens the door. ‘Take a minute to chat, get your own selfies, whatever. They’ll call you all together for a group picture, and then you’ll leave your email with Jess and we’ll send you your picture within a few days. Questions?’
No one responds. The stagehand waves them inside.
‘Well, don’t dawdle! We don’t have much time left.’
Chloe steps inside with the rest of her appointed group. She’s with a fifteen-year-old girl—by far the youngest person there—and a man around Chloe’s age. The teenager is shaking in her boots, clutching her phone like a vice. The poor thing looks like a deer in headlights.
Inside the room, all three members of the band are still chatting with the last group. There’s a young boy hugging Luke—it’s cute. Chloe’s breath catches in her throat.
‘They’re really nice,’ Chloe whispers to the girl next to her, if only to prove to herself she can still breathe.
‘You’ve met them before?’ the girl asks with wide eyes. Chloe nods. It’s only a small fib—she has met Luke before.
‘Yeah, you don’t have anything to worry about. It’s gonna be great.’
And maybe Chloe’s chest loosens just a tad as she focuses on someone else’s nerves for a moment. It’s a nice feeling.
The last group is ushered out, bringing Chloe’s attention back to Luke.
He looks just as good as he did that night, when they slept together. His dark curly hair looks windswept, almost fluffy at the ends. He turns, his smile big and genuine as he waves goodbye to the young boy he was just speaking to.
Chloe hardly even notices Maverick Carter or Quinn Seong as she looks at Luke. The teenager beside her squeals, her nerves seemingly forgotten, and launching herself at Maverick. Maverick takes it in stride, laughing and hugging her back.
‘Alright,’ he says brightly. ‘Love the enthusiasm!’
And that’s the moment Luke fully turns, his gaze falling on Chloe. Her steps falter. His dark eyes widen to practically the size of dinner plates, his entire body freezing as if someone just hit pause on a movie. It might have been comical if it didn’t make Chloe feel like she might throw up.
‘Hi,’ she squeaks. Her arm waves without her meaning to. She drops it quickly, feeling stupid as Luke just gapes at her.
The rest of the room feels muted, muffled. Like it’s just the two of them.
Just like that night, on the balcony. The raging party in the room behind them had faded to nothing, leaving just the two of them by themselves.
‘No need to be so shy,’ Quinn crows, appearing to Chloe’s right. Chloe jumps, the presence and sounds of the others in the room crashing back down on her. Quinn throws an arm over Chloe’s shoulder, holding her close. ‘What’s your name, hon?’
From Devin’s gratuitous chatter regarding R3, Chloe knows that Quinn isn’t always so personable—Quinn Seong is known as cool, collected and edgy as hell. But, it seems she knows when to amp up the excitement for her fans.
‘Chloe,’ Chloe stammers, looking from Quinn and then back to Luke. ‘I, uh, need to talk to Luke?—’
Quinn snorts. She shakes her head, the feathered ends of her hair hitting Chloe cheek softly. She gives Chloe a small, good-natured shove. ‘Of course you do.’
Already feeling off-balance, the shove is just enough to send Chloe stumbling forward and straight into Luke’s arms. He catches her easily, deceptively strong despite his slight build.
He grunts softly at the impact, and Chloe’s mind immediately flashes to That Night. It sounded so similar to the soft sounds he made in the hotel room…
‘Sorry—I, uh—sorry,’ Chloe stammers, scrambling back from Luke’s sturdy chest. Her limbs move slowly, as if they don’t want to cooperate, as if they want to stay curled up in his warm embrace. But she manages to force them to move properly so she can stand in front of him.
She’s painfully aware of all the other people in the room. The stagehand at the door, the photographer, the other fans. Maverick Carter and Quinn Seong watch as well, amusement evident on their faces as Chloe stands, red-cheeked, in front of a stunned Luke Waters.
Slowly, she looks up and faces him.
The room dims away to nothing more than a blur and white background noise ringing in Chloe’s ears. Her heart sinks at the look on Luke’s face—the tense, unhappy grime that can barely pass as a smile frozen on his lips. Clearly, he doesn’t want to see her.
Well, of course he doesn’t want to see her! She was just a one night stand, and it’s been a full month, and now she’s just—here. Like a stalker, she thinks.
‘Uh…hi,’ she says when he doesn’t respond. She straightens, fighting her body’s every urge to hunch forward and curl into a ball right then and there. Her cheeks feel like they’re on fire, her heart is racing, her hands shaking. The words catch in her throat, as if an invisible web keeps them from slipping out. I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant.
‘What are you doing here?’ Luke demands, her voice tight and raw. Chloe presses her lips together, her hands curling into fists by her side. She fights the web inside her throat. The quicker she can spit this out, the quicker she can leave.
And pretend that she’s not running away.
‘Uh, Luke—’ Maverick Carter breaks in quickly, staunchly reminding the both of them that they are, in fact, not alone. There’s a room of people, and the attention is solely on the two of them.
Chloe kind of feels bad, ruining this meet and greet moment for the other fans in the room.
Maverick sidles up next to Luke, his voice a sing-song tone that’s clearly trying to cover up his own panic over Luke’s rudeness. ‘You can’t talk to our fans like that! Clearly, she came to see you. C’mon give her a hug, at least.’
‘Yeah,’ Quinn adds, forcing a laugh. ‘Don’t be an asshole.’
Maverick slaps Luke’s back roughly. Luke shoots him a glare, pushing Maverick off him. His gaze settles back on Chloe. He schools his face, trying to compose himself as much as possible.
Out of the corner of her eye, Chloe sees the teenage girl she spoke to earlier inching closer to them. Clearly, she’s upset that Chloe is monopolizing the entire band’s attention. Quinn paints a smile on her face, catching the girl in a quick conversation to placate her.
‘A hug,’ Luke repeats tightly. ‘Sure.’
‘That’s okay,’ Chloe says quickly, swallowing hard. She presses her fists to the sides of her thighs to calm their tremors. ‘Luke—can I speak to you? Privately, I mean?’
Luke stares at her stonily, looking as if this is the very last thing he wants to do. He glowers at Maverick.
‘Mav, this is the girl I was telling you about,’ he says through gritted teeth. ‘Chloe.’
The teenage girl creeping up on them stops, surprise on her face. It seems she didn’t really believe Chloe when she said she’d met the band before. Chloe pays her no mind, mind racing at the fact that Luke talked about her to Maverick.
Maverick pales slightly, and the two men share a look that makes Chloe feel smaller than she ever has in her entire life. Even smaller than she felt when her father was screaming at her for falling pregnant.
‘I just really need to talk to you,’ Chloe repeats desperately. Heat creeps up her neck, coloring her cheeks and ears an ugly red that showcases her embarrassment. God, she should have thought this through! She spent the whole car ride from Nashville imagining how this moment would go—what she would say. Now, she’s just struck dumb and stammering like a fool. ‘Luke, please,’ she tacks on, hoping he will just listen for a moment.
‘You know, maybe we should just get our picture and move along,’ Maverick says quickly, cutting in-between them. Getting in the way. Chloe knows he’s just trying to help his friend out, but right now all she can see is another obstacle.
Clearly, Luke told Maverick everything—and somehow she has the capacity to feel even more humiliated than she already did. Maverick gently places his hands on Chloe’s shoulders. He nods to the photographer to ready his camera, and then maneuvers Chloe to the hanging backdrop.
He’s trying to rush her out. Chloe stumbles, feeling like her feet are rooted in place. She can’t move—won’t move until she spits this out and can finally move on. Then, she can focus on figuring out what the fuck she’s doing with her life?—
This is it, she tells herself. She jerks out of Maverick’s grasp, bumping into someone behind her. ‘Luke, please, I just need a moment?—’
Luke’s composure finally cracks, a cruel sneer painting itself on his face as he stares down at her. ‘You know, this is really fucking stalkerish,’ he snaps at her.
The chatter in the room dies to nothing, or rather , it’s all drowned out by the roaring in Chloe’s ears.
‘I mean, you drove all the way here from what, Nashville? I didn’t call you for a reason. Clearly I didn’t want to see you again. Yet, here you are—God, why do I always choose the crazy ones?’ Luke spits.
Chloe rears back as if she’d been hit. The weight of his words are a punch in the gut, settling in her core like a heavy weight. She wants nothing more than to melt into nothing, to sink into the floor and disappear from the planet.
She’s never known humiliation like this before. She’s painfully reminded of the time in third grade when she was kicked out of her lunch table in front of the entire school. They called her crazy back then, too. Crazy for thinking she was allowed to sit with the kids who’d only befriended her so she would do their homework—crazy for thinking they actually liked her.
She really didn’t have any friends until she met Devin in middle school.
Somehow, this is worse than that. She’s so dazed that she doesn’t even resist when someone—a stagehand, maybe?—guides her towards the exit.
‘Thank you for coming,’ he says cheerfully, as if anyone could buy that. ‘Enjoy the concert later!’
Chloe blinks, realizing she’s being shepherded out of the room while the others take their group picture. Already half out the door, she twists back to see the group. Luke is standing on the far side, as far from Chloe as he can be while still being in the picture. Maverick and Quinn stand in the middle, the other fans filling in the gaps. All of their backs are to her.
‘Alright, on the count of three,’ the photographer calls, readying the camera as it sits on a tripod. ‘One… two… three… Say cheese!’
Chloe’s pushed out the door, and the stagehand starts to shut it in her face.
‘I’M PREGNANT,’ she shouts. Just as the camera flashes, everyone’s head snaps back to Chloe. Her throat tightens as she adds weakly, ‘And it’s yours.’