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Chapters (28)
  1. Cover Page
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. Chapter 20
  25. Chapter 21
  26. Epilogue
  27. About the Author
  28. Copyright Page

Nick sighs. “I just . . . I just didn’t sign up for this, you know? I wasn’t even looking for a girlfriend. I certainly wasn’t planning to fall for some pop star.”

“You fell for me?” I ask, feeling a flutter of hope.

“Before I knew who you were,” Nick says. His words hit me as hard as if he’d punched me in the gut, and I can’t speak. Nick sighs. “I’m sorry. I just need to do some thinking.”

“I know,” I say. Then I feebly add, “Look, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Nick says, and clicks off.

I draw my knees up to my chest, hug them close and stare at the wall for a long time. Nick doesn’t call back. My father never returns my message. I feel more alone than ever before.

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An insistent pounding on my apartment door wakes me up at four-fifteen in the morning. I wonder how long I’ve been asleep as I blink several times, adjusting to the darkness, and finally struggle out of bed toward the door.

Nick, I think, feeling hope rise inside me.

I’m not prepared for the harried-looking figure I see when I open my door.

“Mom?” I say. “What are you doing here?”

Chapter 20

I know I’m supposed to love you
And you, you’re supposed to love me.
I thought you were what I needed,
But it was all an image, all a mirage.
There’s nothing in your heart,
And you can’t be in mine.

—“CAN’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE,”
STAR BECK
ALBUM: SIMPLY STAR

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Chapter 20

She looks worse than I’ve ever seen her. Her hair is tangled, she’s not wearing any makeup, and she has flip-flops on instead of her normal designer heels. Her shirt is wrinkled, and she looks like she has aged twenty years since I last saw her.

“Honey,” she says. Her eyes fill with tears, and I can’t help noticing, as she stands there at the top of the narrow staircase, that she looks smaller to me than she has before. Her face looks so exhausted that for a moment, I feel sorry for her. Then I remind myself that this whole mess is basically her fault.

“How did you find me?” I ask, trying to sound cold. Her face registers surprise for a moment, as if she expected me to embrace her and be thrilled to see her instead of just standing there and looking at her angrily.