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38
Taylor
Reporters and photographers swarmed around me as we left the game and boarded a bus for the airport. There was a brief interlude of silence during the drive, but when we arrived at the airport, they were waiting there, too. I ignored them as I went through security. Fortunately, they weren’t allowed beyond that, and I had some peace and quiet when I got to the gate.
I sat away from the rest of the cheerleaders and texted Brody.
Taylor: This is CRAZY.
Brody: Yeah, it’s a real circus sometimes. Sorry it had to break like this.
Taylor: They were watching us while we walked Luna in the park?
Brody: Welcome to the world of celebrity status. Now you know why I was wearing my hood up that night at trivia, and why I didn’t tell you who I was.
Taylor: Are they going to be waiting at my apartment when we land? Are they going to harass my neighbors?
Brody: Don’t know. They might. We’ll deal with it when we get home, I guess. The team flight is about to take off.
Taylor: We don’t depart for another hour. Text me when you land?
Brody: You know I will :-)
I scrolled through the gossip websites, reading everything they said about me. It was kind of flattering being the center of attention, in a superficial kind of way. And beyond that, it was nice to have everything out in the open.
Except for Isabella…
The head cheerleader hadn’t looked in my direction since we left the game. She was sitting on the other side of the boarding area, surrounded by cheerleaders who were consoling her. As if somehow she was the victim in all this.
When we boarded the plane, it was Kayla who sat next to me rather than Isabella. “She asked me to switch seats,” Kayla said, smiling apologetically.
“I’m not surprised.”
She looked around, then leaned closer to me. “Forget her. She doesn’t own Brody Carter. You can see whoever you want.”
“Thanks, Kayla.”
“The interview he gave was so sweet.”
“Interview?”
I pulled it up on my phone. Brody sat behind a table with his full gear still on, blond hair matted to his head with sweat.
I’m the best thing that ever happened to him?
It was likely an exaggeration. He was a multi-million-dollar athlete, after all. He was famous. There were a lot of great aspects of his life, and I doubted that I eclipsed all of them.
But I loved hearing it. And it reiterated that no matter what happened, we would deal with all of this together.
Our flight landed close to midnight. When I switched off Airplane Mode, I had three texts waiting.
Brody: Just landed. Meet at my place? Luna would love to see you. (I would too)
Brody: Scratch that. I just got home and my place is swarming with paparazzi. I told them to screw off, but they’re hanging around, hoping to get a photo of you. Salt Lake City is a small town. It doesn’t get much gossip.
Brody: Probably a good idea to lay low for a few days. We can meet up when all of this dies down.
I drove home from the airport. Fortunately, my apartment building was devoid of any photographers or journalists. I guess they hadn’t looked up my address, or they were all focusing on Brody’s place.
