Chapter Nine #3
Decked out in their formal wear, they went to Waffle House and indulged on breakfast food, reliving the moment when Austin won. They hadn’t heard from Phoebe and decided not to contact her until time had passed and she was less mad.
When she and Julianna parted ways and headed home, Christine believed that nothing could ruin her mood.
It was a night to be cherished, recalled, and remembered.
And she hated to admit it, but knowing Matt was on the bus heading to California with the guys, and not in another woman’s arms, made it that much better.
She walked up the stairs to her apartment and stopped short when she saw a large cooking pot in front of her door.
She fell against the wall, making herself as small as possible.
Could someone see her? Were they still there?
She peered at the object inside the pot.
A stuffed rabbit? She crept toward her apartment, her eyes darting left and right while she kept her back to the wall.
“No. No, no, no.” As she reached the door, she heard footsteps.
She fumbled with her keys, trying to unlock all three locks as quickly as possible.
Her hands shook, making it impossible to get the key into the little keyhole.
“Breathe, Christine. Breathe.” The footsteps were gone.
Must have been a neighbor downstairs. She forced air in and out of her lungs and steadied her hands to unlock the door.
She grabbed the pot, and, once inside, pushed the door firmly closed before bolting it.
There was a note tied around the stuffed animal’s neck.
Enough is enough. Tonight was the final straw. How did YOU manage to steal the limelight? Your hold on him ends now. No more warnings. When you least expect it, expect it.
She rushed through the house, looking under the bed, in the closets, in the shower, and on the deck.
Nobody was there.
She double-checked the outside doors and sat on her couch, still in her dress, shaking. She called Julianna.
“Someone left a cooking pot and a stuffed bunny on my doormat.”
“Get out of there. Come to my place,” Julianna said.
“I don’t want to go outside. I’m afraid they’re waiting for me.” Christine ran through the house, pulling down blinds and triple-checking door and window locks.
“I’m on my way.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Julianna showed up in a pair of sweats with a backpack over her shoulder.
“I’m staying with you tonight . . . but, Christine?”
“Yes?”
“I insist you call the police.”
“I already did. They told me if I didn’t feel I was in immediate danger, I should come down to the police station tomorrow and file another report.”
“Let’s see the offending object,” Julianna said.
Christine led her to where it sat on the kitchen counter. Julianna pulled the little stuffed bunny out of the pot. “It’s like they found the creepiest-looking stuffed bunny they could. Its eyes are crossed and its whiskers are all snarled. And what’s with its weird smile? Do rabbits even smile?”
“Why do creepy-looking stuffed bunnies even exist?”
“This is so 1980s. Come on. At least be original,” Julianna said.
Christine hugged her. “I can always count on you.”
“I’m starting to think this is more than just a superfan,” Julianna said.
“I agree.”
“Okay, I’m pouring us a large Baileys and we’re watching Love Actually ,” Julianna said with a firm nod.
“Thank you,” Christine said.
“I chatted with Phoebe,” Julianna said while pouring their drinks.
“Was she pissed about him mentioning me?” Christine didn’t say what she was thinking. Could Phoebe have left the pot and bunny?
“She didn’t say. And I know what you’re thinking. She didn’t leave you a gift on your doorstep.”
“I wasn’t . . .”
“You were. Anyway, she raved about being backstage and how she bumped into so many stars. Then she asked me a million times if she looked pretty and thin when she showed up on the TV screens. Of course, I said yes. She looked amazing and bone-thin. Which, to her, is a compliment.”
“You can’t blame her. It’s a pretty big deal,” Christine said.
“Yeah, but you didn’t ask me a million times how you looked when you were sitting next to him at the CMT Awards.”
“I knew I didn’t look thin. I saw it for myself. Why wear you out with it?”
“Not to mention you were hobnobbing with the elite while I was in the nosebleed section.”
“That night started out so bad,” Christine said, accepting the drink Julianna handed her.
“It did.”
“But it turned out pretty good for me. Up until threats and bunnies in pots,” Christine said, pointing to the stuffed animal.
“Pretty damn good.”
“And it didn’t turn out badly for Phoebe, either. I swear she could fall into a hole and come out wearing a diamond.”
“She’s that kind of person,” Julianna agreed.
“I thought you were going to make a play for him,” Christine said.
“Austin? Yeah, I was, but he needs to grow up a bit. He’s super sexy, and honestly, I can tell he’s a good guy by how he treats you. But like you keep saying, he’s just out for a good time right now, and I’m getting beyond that. I’m twenty-seven. Time to think past being the party girl, y’know?”
Christine nodded as they took their Baileys to the couch. “That’s pretty much what I said to him when he kissed me the night I asked him for a break.”
“Phoebe’s perfect for him right now. She told me they’re free to see whomever they want when he’s not in town as long as he sees her when he is in town. I couldn’t do it, but she can.”
“Not for me, but if it works for them, who am I to judge?”
“Wait a minute. Did you say he kissed you?” Julianna asked.
“Oops. Had I not mentioned that before?”
“Hell no you didn’t. Spill it.”
“I was saying goodbye and next thing I knew, my back was against the door and his tongue was expertly making its way around my mouth.”
“How in the heck did you not say yes to whatever he offered?”
“I seriously considered going out with a bang. But he’s not the commitment kind of guy, and I’m not the one-night-stand kind of woman.”
“Maybe you should have been. Have you been with anyone since college?”
“Nope. I believe at this point I’m considered re-virginized. And look who’s pointing fingers. When’s the last time you got laid?” Christine asked, pointing at her.
“What year is it?” Julianna said, making a face. “It’s been a good year and a half. Last time was with the physical therapist I met when I tore a hamstring doing yoga.”
“Corey?”
“Cody. This is getting depressing. Let’s watch the movie.”
They cued up Love Actually and started singing along with the opening scene.
When the movie ended and they’d each had two Baileys cocktails and a shot of whisky, Christine was feeling little pain.
She grabbed her phone, walked over to the cooking pot with the bunny, took a photo, and posted it to her socials.
She tagged Austin and included every hashtag she could think of to link his social accounts to her photo.
She kept it short: A boiling bunny? You can’t be more original than that? Sooooo . . . 1980s.
Julianna ran over. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?”
“Fruck them,” Christine said, and then she started giggling. “He’s right. It is hard to say when you’re drunk.”
“Christine!”
“I’m taking control. A guy who was in the army told me once that the craziest person in a fight wins. Bring it on, you crazy bitches. I’ll be crazier.”
Julianna held up her glass in a salute and retweeted Christine’s comments. “Then I’ll be crazy with you.”
Half an hour later, Austin called. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“Your crazed fan left a cooking pot and a stuffed bunny on my doorstep. So, I called her out for her lack of origin, um, orinality. Um, her lack of . . .”
“Are you drunk?”
“Very.”
“Christine, you’re only going to incite the crazies with that post,” Austin said in a firm voice.
“That’s a very impressive word, Austin. Incite. To encourage behavior. Incite.”
“What?”
“When I complained about being bullied, my teacher said, ‘Well, Christine, did you do something to incite them?’ What a bitch she was. I said, ‘Yes, ma’am, I sure did. I showed up at school today.’ Then I went home and memorized the definition of ‘incite.’”
“Are you alone?”
“Nope. My hot girlfriend is here with me.” Christine fell into a fit of laughter.
“Put her on the phone.”
“He wants to talk to you,” Christine said, switching to speaker and handing the phone to Julianna.
“Hey, Austin. What’s up?”
“Okay, first, are you really girlfriends? Because if you are, I’m asking you—no, I’m begging you—take photos and send them. I swear I won’t show anyone else.”
“We aren’t gay, Austin. Sorry. The only hot photo you’re going to get is Christine and me in sweatpants on a couch watching movies.”
“I have an incredible imagination. Send them.”
“You’re hard not to like.”
“You’ve tried? Never mind. Is she okay? She sounds like she’s losing it.”
Christine held her fingers up in the okay sign. “Tell him I’m okay.”
“He can hear you, Christine. This may have been the straw. She’s going to the police again tomorrow.”
“Are you staying with her?” he asked.
“Yes. This is a funny turn of events.”
“What is?”
“Usually, you’re the one everyone is holding together during drunken escapades.”
“Ha. Ha. Thanks for being there with her.”
“You got it. Y’know, she was my best friend before she was yours,” Julianna said.
“It’s not a contest, Julianna. Let’s not make it one. We have Phoebe for that,” Austin said.
“Damn, just when I start to not like you, I like you again.”
“I do that to people. Can you at least sleep in the same bed and tell me about it?”
“Goodbye, Austin,” Julianna said.
“BYE, AUSTIN!” Christine yelled from the couch.
“Later, ladies.” Austin disconnected the call.
“Damn. I don’t want to like him, but I keep finding myself doing it,” Julianna said.
“Yep, he’s like a stray cat. Welcome to my world.”
Julianna plopped on the couch next to Christine. They posed for a selfie in their sweatpants and sent it to Austin.
He texted back, That’s a start!
“ The Proposal ?” Christine asked, picking another of their favorite movies.
“Yes.”
Half an hour into the movie, Julianna started talking.
“Christine, I have a confession. I can’t stop thinking about Austin. Ever since that night he flirted with me at the awards. I mean, I know he’s with Phoebe and he cares about you, but his call tonight was so sweet . . . Christine? Hello? Did you hear me?”
“Uh-huh. Austin. Sweet. Good night.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t repeat that when you’re sober. Some things are better left unsaid,” Julianna said.
“Mmmmmm,” Christine said.
Partway through the movie, they fell asleep on the couch.
ON HER WAY TO WORK, CHRISTINE stopped by the police station and filed another report. They took her information and kept the letter, pot, and stuffed bunny. They also asked for a list of people who might have an issue with her.
“All of Austin Garrett’s fans.”
The police officer raised his right eyebrow—only his right one—fascinating Christine for just a second. They asked for Austin’s phone number, and she hesitated before realizing it was the police. They could find the number if they wanted to.
She had avoided looking at any social media, not wanting to see what had been said about her, but once she got to the office, she couldn’t stand not knowing.
She pulled it up. It was worse than she expected.
Christine had hoped that after seeing Phoebe on his arm at the awards, Austin’s fans would move their anger toward her.
Phoebe was strong. She could handle it. But the anger was still targeted at Christine.
There was an entire thread stating that Phoebe was a plant, a hired date to take the attention off Christine, and that’s why Austin mentioned Christine from the stage rather than Phoebe.
Even Austin dating someone was not enough to make the haters quit harassing Christine.
It made no sense. But when has irrational behavior ever made sense?
By its very definition, it’s not logical or reasonable.
Christine shut down socials. “Enough.”