AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Tara follows the celebrities lives soaking up every detail from her magazines and TV shows and will never understand. She drools over the clothes and the houses—and the men. Is she talking about herself? Would Tara swap places with me?
"All this doesn’t matter because Dylan is touring soon anyway. Then he’ll forget about me. He’ll find new girls to choose from."
My words hurt, and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Every time I think about him with someone else my stomach twists into knots.
"So, did you check out the website I linked?" asks Tara.
"Briefly." I clamp up, blanking the not-so-pleasant things written about me. "Do you think they’ll look for me?’
"Yes."
"Gee, thanks. Some kind of 'maybe not' encouragement would’ve been good."
Tara shrugs. "You need to be realistic about this. I guess things will die down if—.”
"If he keeps away.”
Something in Tara’s expression concerns me, as if she doesn’t want him staying away either.
Tara places her mug on the coffee table. "How about we drive past your flat and see if there’s anyone outside?"
As we drive across the city, my head spins. Even if they have discovered who I am and where I live, how the hell could they get there so quickly? I only left four hours ago. Tara pulls into my street, her blue Nissan Micra crawling towards my flat.
"Advance guard," says Tara.
I follow her line of vision. Three girls sit on the wall next to the gate, chatting to the man who accosted me earlier. Tara keeps driving, and I glance at them hoping they don’t look up. They’re late teens, which is strange—you’d think they’d know better than to behave like the tweens who follow boy bands around. Two of them are bleached blondes in tiny shorts and tops, the third has sleek black hair. All three are beautiful.
"You think they’re waiting for me?" I ask when I turn my head back to Tara.
"No, him. But if they see you they might not be too friendly."
Groaning, I slump down in the seat and put my face in my hands. "I should’ve said no to sharing his pizza and left the house that night."
The look Tara gives me is stranger than before. "You can stay at mine until you figure out what to do."
* * *
I spendthe afternoon at Tara’s mulling things over as she works in her office. There’s only so much daytime TV one girl can take. Tara periodically shouts out Twitter updates to me. By early evening, this grates on my ears so much I’m ready to start a Twitter account and lash back. Apparently, Dylan was spotted leaving his country house this evening, headed to some exclusive London club, which has perked up the fandom. Which I hope means they’ve left the front of my house.
Tara is reluctant to let me return home and I’m half-convinced she wants to meet Dylan. When I remind her the press might appear here too she changes her mind.
So at seven P.M, I walk along my street, heart thumping in my ears. I hold my breath as I get closer to the building. The streetlight illuminates the pavement near the flaking white gate, and there’s no longer anyone outside. My held breath rushes out, as I pull my keys from my black handbag with shaking fingers.
I’m going in, and I’m not coming back out until the world no longer pays attention to who I am.
