15
He had always been lucky and knew that he should be so still. —Persuasion
Rosie kisses me in front of April. And all of Rosie’s family and friends. Today is her birthday, so I can’t very well do what I want to do, which is push her away and yell, “What the hell, Rosie?” Instead, I try to remain passive and boring and make this as much a stage kiss as possible without being too rude or obvious to the hundred or so people watching.
My first thought when she breaks away is April. I scan the crowd for her. I know right where she was standing. But she’s gone. I hurry through the laughing and dancing crowd, with the slightest twinge of regret for Rosie, who I’ve left behind with the cake. I should not have flirted with her so blatantly. I knew she liked me, and it soothed my ego. But she is my best friend’s little sister, and she lives on the property where I’m staying. Finished or not, I need to move back to my home.
I’ve left the lights of the party to the muffled darkness of the wooded hillside in the Musgrove backyard. I see a glimmer of light ahead like the Pleiades. It’s April; the moonlight catches on her dress. I’m just about to call her name when I see in the shadows behind her a green top hat. Johnny effing Love! He stands so close to her I fear I’m witnessing the prelude to a kiss. I stop and stare, hidden by the scrub oak—their voices indistinct murmurs. April opens the wooden gate that leads to her yard. Johnny follows and the gate clanks shut.
Could this night get any worse? April told me that she didn’t come to my concert with Johnny Love. But then, when I dropped her off, right as I kissed her, he showed up, like a bad penny. He walked her into the house with such a proprietary air, I didn’t know what to think. While on tour, I thought about texting her a thousand times. But I would feel stupid texting her if she was indeed dating Johnny. She said she didn’t have time for relationships. I want to chase after her and remind her of that. I imagine her walking through her garden with Johnny Love. The Elliot home may be stifling formality, but their gardens are the definition of romance, especially at night. I stand just outside the wooden gate for a long time, contemplating my next move. Then the gate clicks open. I scurry back into the trees. Johnny Love steps out.
“Freddy West,” he says with amusement. He removes the top hat; his hair shining like brushed gold in the moonlight. “Why are you lurking about?”
“Ummm...” I cannot think of any good excuse. “I need some alone time,” I say lamely.
“Really?” Johnny gives me a far too-knowing smile. “I’d swear you were looking for company.” He shuts the gate. The man looks so smug. He probably kissed her, but at least he is not in her room right now. I’ll take that as a win.
“The Elliot gardens are lovely at night,” I say, hoping to end the awkwardness.
“Visit them often?” he asks. “At night.” With those two words I realize my mistake. In six years, I have never hinted to anyone about my relationship with April and to screw up now. In front of Johnny Love of all people.
“They are next door,” I say lamely.
“I’ve always wondered. Just who she was, this muse of yours. The one who broke your heart. It would make a great story.”
“Maybe I made her up to sell records.”
Now we have reached the fringe of the party.
“I doubt that. She felt very real to me.” He touches his lips as if to brush a crumb off.
I turn away. “Good night, Freddy,” Johnny calls after me. His laugh follows me as I sneak into the pool house. I don’t think he kissed April. I do think he’s totally messing with me, trying to get a rise out of me.
I leave the lights off in the bungalow. I don’t want anyone to know I am here—especially not Rosie. Poor Rosie. I don’t want to tell her that I’m not interested in her. Not tonight, not on her birthday, but I also need to make it clear that though she’s lovely and wonderful, she’s not for me. I’m not sure why I didn’t make that clear from the beginning. Pride, I think.
I realized shortly after I first met September a year ago that she had absolutely no clue her sister and I ever dated. I was more than a little hurt. Why hadn’t Rainy told her only sister about me? My sister knew all about her. Even my parents knew about her in a roundabout way. They knew I was absolutely smitten with a girl named April, and later I was devastated because this girlfriend had dumped me. But they had no idea my April was the same April who sang the half-time show at the Super Bowl. I would have told them, except for those NDAs Janene made me sign. And here we are again acting like we hardly know each other when we once were everything to each other. Or at least that’s what I thought.
It’s strange. As a kid and even as a young adult, I imagined I would have this uphill trajectory in life. With every passing year, I would become better at everything. But looking back at the past five years, I miss some things about the guy I was when I first met April. I was young and poor and had nothing to lose. I was so much more confident, bordering on cocky. I was certain I would get a high-paying job. Of course, April Rain would want to date me. I was hardly intimidated by fame—I was blissfully naive and stupid. And now, I am famous and rich and absolutely riddled with insecurities.
I want to blame April for my emotional backslide but that wouldn’t be fair. Sure, she broke my heart, but that heartbreak made me a rock star. What really made me lose my footing was fame. My ego became outsized, and at the same time, my sense of my own worth began to crumble. If comparison is the thief of joy, rankings are marauders of confidence, raiders of contentment. I mean, I’m doing better now, having grown a thick skin. I try hard not to let the fun house mirrors of the public eye warp my perspective. But the first couple years of fame, I totally lost myself. I dated so many women. And I was miserable. I hoped that all the pictures in the press would gut April. I’m not proud of who I was then. All I can say is that I was in a world of hurt. But I’ve made headway since then. I think, I hope. I no longer want to smash any unsuspecting hearts. That’s why I’m hiding in the bungalow and texting my sister.
freddy
SOS
Kai, bless her heart, calls immediately. “What’s this emergency?”
“Rosie kissed me . . . in front of April.”
Kai swears.
“I know.”
“Where are you?” she asks.
“Hiding in the bungalow.”
“Where’s April?”
“At her place. She left with Johnny Love.”
“Is she dating him?
“You’re not helping, Kai!”
“Did you ever talk to her?”
“Sort of, not really. I’m working on it.”
“You can’t be doing a very good job if she’s dating Johnny Love.”
“I don’t think it’s serious. I saw him come back through the gate a few minutes later.”
“How the mighty have fallen. Were you spying on them?”
“No, I went after April to explain Rosie’s kiss and then I saw her leave through the gate with Johnny.”
“How were you going to explain the kiss?”
“I have no idea. I want to call her. But maybe she’s dating Johnny.”
“There’s an easy solution to this. Talk to her!”
“That’s not so easy. I’m only in LA for a few more days and already kind of have plans with Rosie tomorrow.”
“So, a date?”
“I wouldn’t call it that, but yeah, maybe.” Why do I always feel like such an idiot when I talk to my sister?
“Okay, here’s what you do. Go on this kind-of-date with Rosie. Be friendly and respectful but not romantic. Make sure that by the end she knows that this is your last date. Then grow some and ask April out.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? Are you actually listening to me?”
“I don’t know what else to do.”
“When have I led you astray?” Only once, when she encouraged me to sell my yellow Jeep to buy Rainy’s engagement ring.