Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

TAM

120 bobas left until they both die …

What the hell just happened tonight? I can’t seem to avoid running into that girl—literally. No matter how hard I work to stay away from her, she’s always there.

I rub at my lower lip with my thumb as we circle the block a few times. I see Curse Girl and her brother walking toward a boba tea shop. Jacob is upset that I told her the real name of my hotel, so he suggested that we drive around a bit to convince the world that we’re not staying here. Last thing we need are fans and paparazzi showing up outside.

I crack my window when we pass the siblings a second time.

“You didn’t tell me it was going to be so cold,” Curse Girl threatens, and her brother snorts.

“I didn’t say wear just lingerie under your stupid hot dog costume. You’re supposed to wear clothes and then lingerie, Lakelynn. Christ. I can’t break the curse by myself. Help me out here.”

“A woman threw a cup of soda in my face today because the hot dogs I was selling were gross. It was not a fun day for me today. Can you please be nice?”

“I’d rather you were alive than I was nice,” the asshole warns her, but then they both stop right as we do at the same red light. “We still have time left. Lake, I … either you survive this, or we don’t. I’m not going on without you and without Joe. I can’t do it. I’m not that strong.”

“Yes, you are,” she tells him, head tilted down. When she lifts her chin, she’s smiling at him, but her hands are trembling. “You’re going to live a long, long life, Joules Frost. No matter where I am, I’ll make sure of it.”

The light turns green and off we go.

“I don’t like that girl,” Jacob warns me, adding to his prior words of caution. “She’s the sort that can destroy a career—even one as prosperous as yours. Tam, as your friend, I’m strongly advising you from ever seeing her again.”

I nod.

He’s right.

I feel sorry for Curse Girl. I’m worried she might be part of a cult.

“You told me I didn’t have a choice, that rule number one in all of our ancestor’s books is—”

“My God, Lakelynn, it’s like you want to die. I should just kill you myself and save us all the trouble.”

I cannot get involved with something like that. If I see her again, I’ll get her legal name and I’ll make a report. With … the local police? I could figure out where she’s from and call it in there.

Although … I open my phone and take a look at the new contact I’ve just added in.

Curse Girl.

I won’t text or call Curse Girl, but if I have to report her, there it is. I turn my phone off and tuck it into my pocket.

“Drop me off. They’re clearly gone.”

“Are you sure?” Jacob asks, peering out the window as we near the driveway for the hotel again. “Maybe we should circle one more time?”

I give him a look, but when Daniel doesn’t speak up to protest my order, Jacob sighs. If Daniel had disagreed openly with me, Jacob could’ve justified circling the block a few more times.

Instead, we leave the SUV with the valet and head up to our respective rooms for the night.

119 bobas left until they both die …

I sleep away my entire day off. When I wake up late in the evening, I find Kaycee asleep on the couch and curse myself. I set an alarm for our date, but— She stirs as soon as I approach the couch, waving a limp hand at me.

“I turned your alarm off. Thought you needed to sleep.” I help her sit up and then release her wrist, crossing my arms over my chest as I look her over. Hair mussed, lipstick smeared. I cock a brow.

“Busy night?”

“We started filming for my new drama yesterday,” she tells me as I pick up the room service menu from a side table and study it. They’re open until ten; we made it by two hours. I’m impressed. “The story starts here, so we’re doing some on-location shoots. We won’t film the rest until after the tour. Oh, and if you’re ordering room service, get me a hot tea with lemon. No sweeteners. I’m on a diet.”

I smile grimly.

“Me, too.”

I call and place an order for two skinny salads with salmon and light dressing—on the side. Water to drink. Hot tea with lemon for dessert. I could really go for some boba right now. Not sure if I’ve ever craved it like this, but damn. It’s almost an obsession.

It must be because of that girl. The one who likes spelunking accidents and Christmas rom-coms. Heh. Cute.

“How do you keep putting on muscle when you don’t eat?” Kaycee asks me, picking at her salad. We yawned our way through a basic conversation while waiting for the food, but we were also both yawning more than we were talking. After we eat, we’ll both want to go to bed—separately. Ah, the joys of being an idol.

“I sneak things when my manager isn’t looking,” I mumble, and Kaycee nods, like she figured as much.

“Don’t they realize that if we don’t eat, we can’t train as hard? I don’t understand why this industry is still so strict. What I look like shouldn’t matter.”

Shouldn’t, but does, I want to tell her. I look up with the last bite of salmon on my fork and see that she’s genuinely curious to hear what I have to say.

Fine.

We’re dating. I should be honest, shouldn’t I? If I can’t be honest with the person I’m supposed to date, why are we even dating? Because the CEO basically commanded it. I smile as nicely as I can.

“This is the job that everyone wants. In order to be successful, we have to be the best. We have to work the hardest. We have to uphold the most unrealistic standards because otherwise, someone else will do it, and that’ll be the end of our careers.”

Kaycee gapes at me, and I finish that bite, trying not to think about how unlikeable I actually am. Everybody loves Tam, but Thomas is a pent-up dick. I’m never allowed to be a jerk, so when I’m in private, sometimes I … I’m starting to see Kaycee as a friend though, something I never expected.

I try to look at her like a woman, but … all I see is a companion.

I set my salad plate on the table.

“You’re right, and I know that. I just … wish it were different.” Kaycee stares down at her lap. “I’m good at what I do, you know? And I can sing—live. I can write music.” She sets the uneaten half of her salad aside and gets up, grabbing the strap of her purse. I was just pouring her a hot cup of tea, too. “I’m tired; you’re tired. We’ll see each other again in Seattle.”

“Are you sure?” I start, but she’s already out the door. It slams behind her, and I turn off all the lights, sitting by myself in the dark with a view of the city and a mug of lemon tea.

I feel like a dickhead now, but I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Next time I see Kaycee in person, I’ll bring flowers and chocolates and act like a proper boyfriend.

I prop my head on my hand, sip my tea, and then I start researching cults online.

118 bobas left until they both die …

The following day, we drive two hours to our next destination. I sleep the entire way, and then wake up thinking about boba again. It sounds good, probably because I saw Curse Girl and her brother heading into a boba shop the other night. I search on my phone for the closest locations to the hotel, and scroll through them, picking one at random.

I shower, dress up in my disguise, and call Jacob only when I’m in the lobby and getting ready to walk out the door.

“I’m going out to get bubble tea. Don’t need the car. I’ll walk.” I hang up and then take off jogging down the block. Nobody stops me. For a few minutes there, I’m just another person on the street. I slow down, adjusting my face mask with a finger so that I can breathe better.

I walk down one hill and then up another, finding myself outside the front door to the shop I picked at random. I turn and glance inside as I pass a window on my way to the front door.

And there she is.

Curse Girl, sitting at a table by herself, rubbing her temples.

“How …?” I trail off, breath frosting the glass, and then I consider running. I should just leave and walk away. I’ve seen people willing to work any angle to get my attention—up to and including feigning death or severe injury. But a curse? This is the first time I’ve seen that. Or a cult, for that matter. Either one would be rare.

“You don’t think someone would fake a cult to get close to you? Tam, a girl faked her own death and invited you to her funeral.” I cringe when I remember Jacob’s final warning from last night.

But how is she even here? Tam isn’t famous for liking boba. I’ve never once visited a boba shop in person before, and I picked this place at random.

I might suggest that she installed spyware on my phone, but this a brand-new phone with a new number. After she had access to it last time, we couldn’t take the risk of keeping it. I tap my phone against my palm. Hmm.

Curiosity’s got the better of me. I push open the door and walk in. Besides, I feel bad for the other night. I wasn’t thinking when I gave her my jacket; Daniel was right. I only made the problem worse. If we’d left her out there with my fans while wearing that, she could’ve been hurt. Already, there are strange rumors swirling around online that are far more likely to hurt her than me.

I stand awkwardly in the center of the space, unsure where to go. Do I sit close to her and try to scope her out before I approach? Do I order something? Could I even drink it if I do?

As I listen to the happy chatter around me, I realize that this is the first time in two years that I’ve been alone in public. Shit, that’s a long time.

I see kiosks near the front where it seems people are placing their orders, and a countertop with a big wooden sign that says Pick Up. Got it. I edge my gaze back to Curse Girl. She’s sitting alone at a two-top with a wooden beam beside her table that looks like the trunk of a tree. The whole interior of the shop screams fairy-tale cottage. Little bit kitschy, but cute.

I slide my phone out and snap a picture for Kaycee. I’ve made up my mind to be a better boyfriend. Should I invite her here? Could we have a date, just me and her? I don’t think Kaycee and I have ever had a proper date. No, no, we definitely haven’t.

I walk over to the table on the other side of the column, slumping into one of the knotty pine chairs. Seems Curse Girl is having a conversation on her phone, whispered and somewhat frantic. I feel like a dick, but I want to make sure everything seems safe before I approach her. People have tried to kill me before.

I exhale and lean my head in her direction to listen. I’m seated opposite her, so if she glances over this way, she might recognize me. She did last time, in the employee hallway at the stadium, wearing lingerie and kicking a collapsed hot dog costume. My lips twitch. That was at least a little bit funny.

“Mom, I snuck out while Joules was sleeping,” she’s saying, gesturing with her hand while she whispers and yet somehow still talks loudly. This time, when my lips twitch, I smile. “Mom.” A pause. “Mom.” Another pause and then a sigh. “You were matched with your childhood sweetheart; the curse picked out Tam Eyre.” She makes a gagging sound, and I find myself frowning. I reach up and toy with the mask on my face, wishing I could just take it off. “I shouldn’t be talking on the phone while I’m inside a café.” Another long pause. “I know it’s noisy in here, but—” Someone shouts so loudly in the corner that both Curse Girl and I turn to look. Her, by lifting her chin. Me, by turning over my shoulder.

There’s a group playing an old-fashioned pinball machine. I find myself weirdly jealous of them. What would it be like to hang out with your friends whenever you wanted? To have real friends in the first place?

I sigh and shake the fantasy off like a bad dream. I gave up everything to get where I am today, and I wouldn’t give it up to anyone or for anyone. I turn back to see that Curse Girl has given up on trying to be quiet.

“My point is, if I die, I want my body to be turned into soil. Just like Joe. Bury me next to the redbud tree with him.” The girl—wasn’t her name a body of water? River? Rain? No … Lake—frowns and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Please don’t cry. I want tobe honest, Mom. I have to tell him about the curse. I have to. It’ll pay off in the end, you’ll see.”

There’s another break in the conversation there where I find myself thinking about all the cults I researched online last night. Nothing about a curse, but I did watch this documentary called Escaping Twin Flames. What if this is a situation like that? Someone is convincing this girl that we’re supposed to be together.

I shiver and consider leaving again. I’ve heard so many versions of this story over the years. It’s a weird feeling to know there are hundreds … thousands … millions of people who think they’re in love with me when they don’t even know me.

This girl included.

“No, Mom, I didn’t like him.” Lake’s voice cracks, and she reaches up to put her hand to her forehead. “He’s awful. He’s … he’s like Joules. Worse. Joules knows he’s a villain; Tam thinks he’s a hero. It’s so nauseating. Basically, he walks around all day wearing blinders. He didn’t even see me; I’m not even a person to him.” Lake stands up, and I let her go, listening to her footsteps as she walks to the counter, retrieves her drink, and returns to her seat. “If I can’t have a conversation with him by … I don’t know, the end of the month, then I want to come home and be with you guys. I want to tick items off my bucket list.” Lake slumps down in her chair, unwraps her lavender straw and stabs it into the top of her cup. “I love you, too, and I will. I will. Promise. Talk to you later, Mom.”

She hangs up and stares at her drink, eyes closing, lips parting in a sigh. This close-up, I can see the smattering of freckles across her nose, her dark brows, the tiny leaves printed on her straw.

“Fuck you, stupid, ugly, talentless Tam.” Lake opens her eyes again, and I push my tongue against my cheek in order to stay quiet. Does she know I’m here? Is she messing around with me? I should leave. I should take Jacob’s advice, should take my own advice, and leave now.

I don’t.

I watch and wait.

Lake doesn’t take a sip of her drink. She opens her eyes, abandons her bag, and heads for the bathroom. Where the hell is this girl from that she thinks it’s okay to leave her bag? I stand up, intending to … I don’t know, watch her bag for her?

My eyes drop to the sticker on her drink.

Watermelon with watermelon popping boba.

Ugh.

Shit.

I love watermelon-flavored anything—much less real watermelon—but I’m not allowed to order it. Some PR wizard once upon a time decided that for me. My fingers itch to take the cup. Would it matter? She hasn’t taken a drink of it yet. Besides, she is the one who threw a ball of paper with a hard pin in it at my head.

She wants five minutes alone with Tam Eyre?

Fine.

I’m curious, and that’s the most dangerous thirst to quench.

“You’re in big trouble,” a voice says from behind me, and I glance back to see Jacob and Daniel standing there.

Fuuuuuck.

I smile and snatch the drink from the table.

“Go ahead, clear the place. I’m not leaving yet. Just … don’t bother the girl who’s in the bathroom, okay?”