12

“THE ROLLING STONE reporter just texted that she is waiting in Atlanta and will board the bus when you roll in,” Anita says from my iPad screen. “How long until you’re at the arena?”

“Not long,” I say, looking out the bus window. “I can see it in the distance, so we have to be close.”

“Good.” She picks up a pen, looks down at her desk, and without even being there in person, I know that she’s got a list of dos and don’ts she wants to go over. “Let’s run through a few quick things before you get there.”

I grin, glancing up at Dylan, who’s sitting in the kitchenette with me. “That woman is relentless,” he whispers.

“Who’s that?” Anita says, leaning in closer to her screen. “Dylan? Good. Get Stella, too. These are things that you’ll all have to remember while she tours with you. Reporters dig, they want dirt, they want their exclusive to stand out from all the other interviews you’ve given, and no one on the tour is off-limits.”

“Then you better tell her about Adam,” Dylan says as I move the iPad back so that we’re both in the shot.

“What about Adam?” Anita says. “Bird, is that a thing? You know you have to tell me this stuff!”

“It’s not a thing!” I defend myself, punching my brother in the arm. “There’s no thing. We’re just friends.”

“The four of us watched a movie on the bus last night, and I’m telling you, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife,” Dylan says, all prim and proper. “I was uncomfortable.”

“You were uncomfortable?” I echo. “Try crying your eyes out to The Fault in Our Stars while two other people on the couch are playing tonsil hockey.”

“We weren’t making out,” he says. “We were cuddling.”

“And I was gagging.”

“Kids,” Anita cuts in.

“Like you and Stella aren’t constantly talking about what would happen if you and Adam got back together,” Dylan goes on.

I feel my jaw nearly hit the table. “Are you kidding me right now?” Then I turn to my supposed best friend as she sits down next to me. “Do you tell him everything we talk about?”

“Bird, the walls aren’t soundproof,” Dylan says.

“Yeah, neither is the curtain over your bunk, FYI,” I fire back, fuming.

“Kids,” Anita says again.

“Truce, truce,” Stella says, shifting the iPad to fit us all on-screen. “First of all, I would never break your confidence,” she says to me. “I feel like you ought to trust me a little more than that by now. And second of all,” she says, turning to Dylan, “you don’t know how all that went down the first time. I was there, and you’re not being cool.”

My brother’s eyes widen. “Sorry.”

“Anita, there’s nothing happening there,” Stella says to my publicist. “Believe me.”

Anita sighs dramatically. “Fine, but this is exactly the kind of thing that cannot—absolutely, positively cannot—happen in front of this reporter.”

“I was just joking around,” Dylan says.

“Joking around right now, but you won’t around the reporter, right?” Anita asks. “Certainly not the first day. You’ll all be on your best behavior. ‘Touring with my best friend is so great,’ and ‘I love the quality time I’m spending with my little sister.’ You think the reporter wants to hear that junk? You think that’s newsworthy? No. By day three you’ll all be quite chummy, and it’s jokes like this that could hijack Bird’s whole story.”

We all just sit there, thoroughly scolded.

Anita takes a big breath. “Bird,” she says, softer. “Rolling Stone magazine is major, and they want to do an exclusive feature on you: a day-in-the-life sort of peek into your world. I’ve seen these go well, and I’ve seen these go down in flames. Should I fly out tomorrow? Should I see if one of your parents can join the tour for a few days?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” I say.

“I just want you to be happy with the way the world sees you.”

I nod. “Right, but I like the idea that the three of us are touring on my bus and doing just fine without a constant chaperone. I’ve made it to all my shows, the media coverage has been great, and I’ve still kept up with all the side stuff Troy books. This reporter’s going to be like, ‘Wow. This girl’s got her act together.’”

Anita frowns. “That’s our hope.”

“Anita, we’ll be fine,” an exasperated Dylan says.

“All right, all right,” she says, holding up her manicured hands. “So a few things: First, a note to all of you, if you don’t want your relationships to be public knowledge, then you have to keep some distance while Rolling Stone is on board. Stella and Dylan, I ask you for Bird’s sake to keep everything rated G.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, but I am a gentleman,” Dylan says with a hand over his heart. Stella giggles.

Ignoring him, Anita plows ahead. “And, Bird, I have no problem with you dating Adam. I want to be clear about that, okay? I think he’s a nice boy, and he also fits perfectly with your image.”

I roll my eyes. “We’re not dating.”

“Hey, I was young once, too. If anything does happen,” she goes on, “a late-night hang out where sparks fly—”

Dylan has to turn his head away to hide his laughter, and I kick him under the table for starting all of this.

“—or a kiss in the back hallways that you think nobody knows about, then you call me. Going public with your first celebrity boyfriend is a big deal. I would much prefer that we control the way that information is revealed.”

I put my head in my hands and exhale. I’m actually happy when Anita gets to her list, reminding me to let the reporter see me studying so that people will know I’m actively trying to get my GED. She also says that our family history will definitely come up, especially Caleb, and that Dylan and I should figure out what we want to say about that before the grenade is dropped. She reminds me that this woman will be my shadow: She’ll be in the wings of the show, in the dressing room, and on the bus, sleeping in the bunk below Dylan’s. When someone’s constantly in your space, filling up even the moments that are usually private, Anita reminds me, it can be difficult to keep a sunny disposition, so remember my friendly aura.

My publicist goes on and on with tips on how to “control the story,” but all I’m thinking about now is the “sexual tension” Dylan supposedly senses between Adam and me. It’s messing with my head. Now that Stella spends so much time with Dylan, I’ve been hanging out a lot with Adam. When he first joined the tour a few weeks ago, I was worried about two things: personally, that my heart would be broken again, and professionally, that I could possibly lose a fantastic tour opener. But now the stakes are even higher. Adam has become one of the closest friends I’ve ever had. I don’t want to lose that.

“We’re here, y’all,” Dylan announces as the bus slows and we pull into Philips Arena parking lot.

“Okay, good luck, gang,” Anita says with a tight-lipped smile. “I know you’ll be terrific. Call me if you need absolutely anything at all.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Dylan says sarcastically. We all wave and I shut down the iPad, feeling like we just went through PR boot camp. “Anita is great at her job, don’t get me wrong,” Dylan says, rubbing his ear, “but that woman can talk!”

Stella gets up and peers out the window as we roll through the parking lot. “I think that’s the reporter. Black skinny jeans and a denim button-down trimmed with plaid.” She shrugs. “Total hipster. Cute but cliché.” Stella turns toward Dylan and grabs his face. “One final kiss, or are we ready for the world to know about us?”

“I don’t know, Stel. The paparazzi will hound us for weeks,” he jokes.

“‘Stylan spotted at the movies!’” I say, playing along as I run my hand through the air like I’m reading an imaginary headline. Then they kiss and I look away, my standard knee-jerk reaction even though it was just a quick peck. I stand up, stretch, and check my hair and makeup in the bathroom mirror. I’m ready to meet this woman and get on with the interview. A feature in Rolling Stone magazine is intimidating, sure, but it’s also really exciting. “Let’s do this,” I say, my adrenaline pumping as I race down the stairs and open the bus door.

I’ve got my guard up, as Anita instructed, but as Adam’s bus pulls in next to mine, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if I just let go.