Page 103 of Kind of Famous
The next hour was amazing.
I started the Q&A with a softball lob. AdamFannn asked:Describe yourself in three words.
Adam took forever to write a response, but eventually he wrote:
Hard-working, loyal and uh . . . I’ve always wanted to be referred to as erudite. Can I go with that? Eden is sitting here saying nobody will believe that, so I’ll say kind. I like to think I’m kind.
Thankfully, the Q&A was a madhouse that demanded my attention and pushed Shane from my mind. We ended up going over the hour, and Adam allowed us to go on another thirty minutes, promising to come back and do it again some time.
Once I knew he was done, I called Eden back to thank her for getting Adam to do the Q&A.
“No need to thank me or Adam. Really, it was long overdue. He was just going to sit here and veg out flipping channels anyway.”
I laughed. “Please don’t ever say that to the fans. You’re killing my image of him.”
“I’m pretty sure he’ll do that himself over time.” It amazed me that she seemed to assume that there would be time for me to come to that conclusion. She snickered, probably aware that despite how normal he was, he was still sexy as fuck. “I’ll see you at Jo’s tonight, right? Rom com night?”
“Oh, yeah. See you then!”
In a million years, I never would have thought I’d one day be friends with them. If I had, my fantasy of it wouldn’t have met at all with the reality. I would have imagined myself as a totally different person first of all—witty and cool, clever and interesting. The first night I’d met Adam, I was wearing a borrowed T-shirt and I told him about my dad’s band. Yup. uber cool.
I should have been over the moon, but everything was a fucking mess.
It would have been easier if I could have stayed mad at Shane, but after a couple of days apart, my initial outrage had subsided, and I remembered little things about him that I missed already. His laugh. His smell. His rock-hard body. His endearments. I wanted him to come home and call me Star Shine and I’d tease him with Cuddle Rock. Or maybe Star Shane. For once, I’d have a real-life relationship that didn’t turn to shit.
Except it already had. Unless he could suddenly morph into someone who didn’t try to take control of me, I was rationalizing away some major flaws to allow myself to accept less than I deserved. My parents had taught me to value myself and trust my gut.
They were wrong about that though. My gut was a stupid traitor. No, I needed to listen to reason and carry on with my plan to move out and move on.
To do that, I needed to ignore my heart, though it was breaking.
It was around one or two in the morning. Eden had long since gone home, but Jo and I had moved to her backyard patio to enjoy the cool night air and talk. After watching a romantic comedy where everything went south, but then despite all the odds, the couple had worked things out again, I was wallowing in my own despair, wondering if Shane and I might find our way through.
“I don’t know what I’m hoping for. An apology? A declaration of love?” It felt easy to talk into the darkness. Jo was kind enough to listen. “I’m beginning to wish I never met him.”
“I doubt that. But—”
As if I’d conjured it, my phone rang with an incoming call from Shane. I hesitated. “Should I answer that?”
“Up to you.” She started to stand, but I held up a finger. I wanted solidarity.
I hit Answer and put it on speaker. “Hi, Shane.”
Silence.
“Hello?”
Nothing. Then some scratching sounds, muffled.
A voice came through, “—but he chickened out.” It sounded like it came from several feet away. There was a heavy rumbling sound beneath the other sounds, like they were on the bus.
“I didn’t chicken out.” That was Shane, much closer. Much clearer. “It’s complicated.”
I looked over at Jo, eyebrow raised. She put her hands over her mouth. “Butt dial.”
“Should I hang up?”
She shook her head and scooted closer to my phone when a different voice that sounded like Micah said, “It’s not complicated. Do you want the girl?”
