Star Struck Read online

  My stomach twists. I decide to start small with my parents – baby steps. “We go to this coffee shop near campus a lot. They have open mic nights and sometimes I perform there.”

  “That’s nice,” Mom says in her placating voice while setting her glass down. “As long as your music doesn’t take you from your studies I’m okay with you dabbling in it a bit.”

  Nodding, I pick my fork back up. I feel a little guilty for not telling them about the band, but after her last statement I realize that I can’t. My parents would totally freak out if they knew. When I lean down to take another bite, my cell vibrates in my pocket. For a brief moment, I imagine that it’s Beckett. Then I glance down and see that it’s Lola. Of course Beckett wouldn’t text me. What was I thinking?

  How is it going?

  Brutal, I respond.

  Did u tell them about the band?

  No. Did u tell ur parents about Ryker?

  What do u think?

  I almost laugh out loud. Lola’s parents are really rich and have high hopes of their daughter snagging a doctor or lawyer. They would not be excited that she’s dating a guy who is majoring in communications because he has no idea what he wants to be other than a musician.

  “What are you doing?” Leo leans over my shoulder.

  “Nothing,” I mumble, covering my phone with my hand and shoving it back into my pocket.

  By the time dinner is over, I’m so stuffed I feel like I’ll have to be rolled out of the dining room. My mind travels back to thoughts of Beckett and I wonder where is today. Did he go to his parents’ house or did he and Tate stay home? It’s funny because even though we practice in his parents’ garage, I’ve never seen them. Sometimes I can hear them inside the house, or see their cars in the driveway, but they never come out and say hi. Clearly their relationship with Beckett is complicated. Then again, it seems that everything with Beckett is complicated.

  I’m so glad when Thanksgiving week is over and Lola and I are back in Seattle. As we unpack our suitcases in our dorm room, Lola goes on and on about how overwhelming her parents are and how awful her older sister is. Not that she needs to tell me any of this. I’ve spent enough time with her family to know. In fact, in high school we rarely ever hung out at her house. She preferred to stay at mine. My parents may annoy me, but I guess they’re cooler than Lola’s. Besides, I can never tell if Lola’s parents like me or not. They sort of always give me the cold shoulder. Lola assures me that they’re like that with everyone, but it still makes me uncomfortable.

  Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Lola peers up at me from where she kneels on the ground in front of her suitcase. “Sorry. I know I’ve been rambling. How was it with your family?”

  “It was okay.” I carry an armload of shirts to my dresser.

  “Want to switch families?” Lola jokes.

  I shove the shirts in my middle drawer and bump it closed with my hip. “No thanks.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Lola scrunches her nose.

  “Leo was kind of annoying though,” I say, as I walk back to my suitcase which lays open on my bed.

  “What’s new?”

  I chuckle. “Okay, I know he’s always been a little irritating, but this was different. I got the feeling that he suspects I’m hiding something. It was like he was trying to goad it out of me all week.”

  Lola bites her lip. “Do you think your parents are suspicious?”

  “No, they seemed clueless.”

  “Then I wouldn’t worry about it. Besides, it’s not like it will matter if you plan to drop the band anyway.”

  Scooping out my pants, I arrange them in my arms and head back to my dresser. They smell like my parents’ laundry detergent. “I think I’ve decided to stay in it.”

  Lola lets out a tiny squeal. “Really? What made you change your mind? Did you hear from Beckett or something?”

  My stomach twists at her words. “No, I didn’t. But I like being in the band, and I don’t want to quit.” After putting away my pants, I lean my back against the dresser. Lola is still on the ground arranging her clothes by color or some nonsense like that. “And I’m really looking forward to this festival thing. Beckett thinks we might get discovered. Wouldn’t that be wild?”

  “You guys are awesome. It could totally happen.”

  I bite my lip, thinking. “But what if we are discovered? How will I explain it to my parents then?”

  “Girl, if you guys get a recording contract, your parents will be thrilled.”

  “I know, but they’ll also know that I lied to them.”

  “You didn’t exactly lie. You just didn’t tell them everything. There’s a difference.”

  “Somehow I don’t think they’ll see it that way.”

  “Trust me, if you guys make it big your parents will overlook it.”

  I can’t help but think Lola’s projecting a little here. Sure, in the case of her parents that would be true. All they care about is success and money. My parents aren’t like that. I take a deep breath to loosen up the knot in my chest. It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I’m back in Seattle, and it’s my life. I get to live it how I want.

  “So, does this mean you’re going back to rehearsal this Thursday?” Lola raises a brow.

  I nod, my chest tightening. “Maybe things won’t be so awkward between me and Beckett now that we’ve had some time apart.” Even though I feel like I’m grasping at straws, I really hope I’m right. I know that I’m going to wait in agony all week to find out.

  Only it turns out I don’t have to wait that long. Thursday morning Beckett sends me a text asking if I’ll come to rehearsal early. He wants to go over vocals before the rest of the band shows up. I know it’s strictly professional, but my heart flips in my chest at the prospect of having some alone time with Beckett. If I had any hope that I was over him, the heart flippy thing confirms that I am not.

  In fact, I’m so nervous when I pull up to his parents’ house I think I might puke. Then I remember how sweet he was when I did puke at Ryker’s party. My insides flutter at the recollection of him pulling my hair back from my face and rubbing my back. As I walk toward the garage, I wonder what Beckett I’ll get today. Will it be the kind one who held my hair back at the party or the cold one from the coffee shop?

  “Hey.” Beckett looks up at me with a smile when I enter the garage. He’s bent over his guitar amp, fiddling with some buttons.

  I exhale lightly, my nerves settling a little. “Hi.” Making my way to the keyboard, I set my purse down beside it and my sheet music on top.

  “How was your Thanksgiving?” Beckett stands up and reaches for his guitar.

  “Good. Yours?”

  He shrugs. “It was okay.”

  “Did you come here?”

  He nods, and I wring my hands in my lap, unsure of what else to say. Small talk always seems so awkward between the two of us.

  “Wanna run through a few songs?” Beckett gets right down to business, and for once I’m relieved.

  “Which ones?” I pick up my pile of papers.

  “The two new ones first.”

  Rifling through the music, I find them and extract them from the stack. Then I flick on the keyboard.

  “Actually,” Beckett says. “I wanted to focus mostly on vocals, so I was hoping we would just use my guitar.”

  “Oh, okay.” I flick the switch to off and rest my hands in my lap.

  Beckett heads over to the corner of the garage and grabs two stools. “Why don’t we both sit here?” He sets the stools next to each other. Then he climbs onto one, setting his guitar in his lap.

  Pressing my lips together, I get up and walk with trembling legs over to the stools. As I sit down, I take a deep breath. I can smell Beckett’s musky scent wash over me, and it causes my heart to race. Our knees are practically touching as he starts to strum his guitar, and my palms clam up. I wipe them on the thigh of my jeans and will my heart to slow down.

  “I’ll take the first vers
e and you take the second, okay?” He looks pointedly at me.

  I nod, surprised. Usually I just sing back-up on this song. I wonder what made him change his mind about that. Not that it matters. I’m just grateful for the opportunity. When we get halfway through the song, the door leading into the house pops open. I see Beckett’s shoulders tense, but he keeps playing, so I stay focused. Out of the corner of my eye I see the figure of a man standing off to the side watching. When I do dare a peek I notice that it’s Tate. Beckett must realize this too, because he visibly relaxes.

  Clapping rings out when we finish. Tate saunters over to us. “You guys sound great together. Like one of those folk duos.”

  “Thanks.” I blush from his words.

  Beckett’s gaze slides over to me. “Yeah, I agree. I’m thinking of having us do an acoustic song together at the festival.”

  “You definitely should,” Tate responds. “You two have a great vibe together.”

  Excitement bubbles inside of me at their conversation. A song with just Beckett? It’s like a dream come true. I fight hard to keep my expression neutral. I want to jump out of my chair and scream with delight.

  Beckett rests his hands over his guitar. “So, what’s the deal, Tate? You over here for dinner or something?”

  Tate nods.

  “Man, you spend more time here now than you did when you lived here.”

  Tate chuckles. “Times have changed, bro.”

  “I guess.” Beckett grins, but I can tell it’s forced.

  Tate swings his arms to the side, clearly feeling the change in the atmosphere too. “Well, I’ll let you two get back to it. Nice to you see you again, Star.”

  “You too, Tate.”

  As Tate makes his way back inside, he and Beckett share a look that I can’t quite decipher. If only these Nash boys weren’t so hard to read.

  22

  Beckett

  Tate’s right. There is something amazing about the way Star and I sound together. I’ve known it since the day she auditioned. At first it worried me, but now I’m thinking I can use it to my advantage. It may be the edge our band needs to be noticed at the festival. We already have the rock sound, and now we can add in something softer. By the time the guys arrive my head is swirling with the possibilities.

  I share some of it with them, and they seem okay with it. Of course it’s hard to tell lately. Ever since I got on them about Ryker’s party they’ve been kind of short with me. Star seems to have relaxed around me tonight, but there’s still some tension there. I guess we’ll have to talk about our conversation at the coffee shop at some point. But I’m good with pushing that out for awhile. Right now I just want to get through the festival.

  After the guys get all their stuff plugged in and ready, we start with Can’t Have. As the band kicks it into high gear, I have a thought. I stop playing and speak into my microphone. “Hey guys, let’s slow this one down a little too.”

  “But we’re a rockband, man,” Ryker groans. “It’s bad enough that you want to do a couple of acoustic songs with Star, but now you want to slow down our other songs too?”

  “What’s wrong with changing things up a little?” I cock my eyebrow at him, challenging him to continue to question me.

  “What if we don’t want to change things up?” Ryker glances over at Pierce and Jimmy. “Do you guys want to change things up?”

  Pierce shakes his head. Jimmy’s eyes shift back and forth uncomfortably.

  Irritation bubbles inside of me. “It doesn’t matter what you guys think, okay? It’s my band. I have the final say.”

  “Of course. Isn’t that always the way?” Ryker shakes his head in disgust. “I’m so sick of having you dictate everything we do.”

  “I’m sorry, man, but that’s the way it is,” I say, my tone a little softer now.

  “It doesn’t have to be.” Ryker peels off his guitar strap.

  Warning bells go off in my head. “What do you mean?”

  Ryker glances over at Jimmy and Pierce, giving them a subtle nod. “We’re tired of your attitude, Beckett, and we’re tired of your rules.”

  “Yeah,” Pierce cuts in. “We’re thinking maybe it’s time we split up.”

  “What?” I feel like I’ve been sucker punched. “You can’t do that.”

  “Oh, yes, we can,” Ryker says.

  I narrow my eyes at him, knowing there is one wrench in his plan. “But you don’t have a lead singer.”

  Ryker’s eyes rest on Star, and my stomach drops. Is she in on this? Of course she is. I should’ve known.

  “So that’s been your plan all along, huh? I thought it was weird how hard you pushed for her to join us.” I rest my arms on my guitar, feeling suddenly weary.

  Star stands up from the keyboard, throwing her arms up as if in surrender. “No way. You’re not putting me in the middle of this drama. I’m not going to be used as some kind of pawn. I joined this band to work with all of you, and I’m not supporting this break up.” Her gaze sweeps over all of us. “You guys need to work out your petty issues. When you do, you can give me a call.” She scoops up her sheet music and purse, and then stalks out of the garage.

  I watch her in awe. To me she’s never looked more beautiful. On instinct, I take off after her. I catch up to her right before she gets in her car. “Star!”

  She whips around, her hair lashing her in the face.

  “Thanks for what you said in there.”

  Star shrugs. “I meant it. Clearly you guys have some issues to work out, but it’s not worth breaking up the band over.”

  “You could’ve easily left with them. I know I haven’t always been the easiest person to work with.”

  “You can say that again,” she mutters under her breath.

  I step forward. “Why didn’t you?”

  She bites her lip and I see the hesitation written on her face. “The truth is I joined the band because of you, and I have no desire to stay in it if you’re gone.”

  Her words catch me off guard. The air around me shifts. All of the sudden I don’t care about the consequences. I reach out and grasp Star’s hand. “I need to go back in there and talk this out with them. But do you think maybe we could…grab a coffee or something after?”

  Star’s eyes widen, surprise evident on her face. “Sure. Just text me when you’re finished.”

  I smile, and reluctantly drop her hand. It felt so good to hold it, almost like a lifeline. “See you soon,” I say, before turning around and heading back to the garage. The guys are huddled together in conversation when I enter. I can’t lose them right before the festival. Besides, I’m anxious to see Star again. I know that it’s on my shoulders to make this right, so I decide to take the higher road.

  “Look, guys, I know I’m kind of intense most of the time.”

  “Kind of?” Ryker lifts his brows.

  “Okay, so I’m really intense,” I concede, and all the guys nod in agreement. “But it’s just because I believe in our band so much. And the reason I do is because of you three. You’re so talented. That’s why I wanted you in my band. And I don’t want to lose you guys.” I take a deep breath, knowing the foreign words are going to be difficult to push from my throat. “So, I’m sorry.”

  Their stunned expressions tell me they weren’t expecting it either.

  “So are you saying that you’ll back off a little?” Ryker asks.

  I nod.

  “Okay.” Ryker steps forward and shakes my hand.

  “You’re all staying then?” I ask.

  “It’s not like we have a choice now.” Ryker chuckles lightly. “Our plan sort of fell through.”

  I smile. “Yeah, you probably should’ve filled Star in beforehand.”

  Ryker locks eyes with me. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. It seems she’s not going to leave you, Beckett.”

  I swallow hard, knowing he’s right.

  When Star walks into the coffee shop she looks so hot in her skinny jeans and knee high boots. H
er hair is swept back from her face in a loose ponytail, and her cheeks are flushed from the cold. When she sees me her face lights up, causing my heart to leap in my chest. This is all new to me, and my nerves are rattled. Yet, I don’t want to run away. For once I want to stay here and see where it leads.

  “Hey, Beckett.” She slides into the seat across from me, her gaze landing on the two coffees on the table.

  “Mocha, right?” I ask, hoping I didn’t mess up.

  She smiles. “How did you know?”

  “I asked Ryker,” I answer honestly. “He said that both you and Lola love mochas.”

  “He was right.” She grins, looking pleased. “And that was sweet of you to ask him.”

  “Sweet, huh?” I wink. “Be careful. You’re gonna ruin my image.”

  Star giggles, and it’s as beautiful as her singing. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” She picks up the cup in front of her, and takes a tentative sip.

  The coffee shop is pretty dead tonight. Only a few other patrons are scattered throughout. Most are on their laptops. I hear the clicking of keys from over my shoulder.

  “Hey, thanks again for tonight,” I say. “The guys and I worked things out after you left, and I owe it all to you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. They kind of didn’t have a choice since they didn’t have you as their lead singer.”

  She shakes her head. “I had no idea about any of it. I promise.”

  “I know.” I take a swift drink of my latte.

  “I’m glad it worked out. I was nervous about it.”

  “You were?”

  “Yeah, I know I’ve only been in the band a short time, but I love it.”

  “I can tell.” I curl my hand around my mug, working up the courage to ask her what I want to. Having conversations like this are hard for me. I’d rather hide behind my guitar. “Hey, when you said that you joined the band for me, what did you mean by that?”

  “Oh.” Her gaze drops to the table, her face flaming. “I just meant that I think you’re super talented. Ever since the first time I heard you play I knew I would do anything to be a part of your band.”