“After a freak accident last week, 22 year old Backstreet Dancer, Rachel B. is injured. A spokesperson for the Boys said she slipped during a routine and broke her ankle.” John Norris said on the TV.
“At number two today on TRL, here’s René.” Carson said.
“Jessie's gonna be so happy. Just three weeks ago, she finished the album and she is already number two.” I said.
“Why is everybody making such a big deal about this?” Rachel whined.
“Huh?” I asked.
“I broke my ankle. Big whoop. Why does the whole world need to know that I’m a klutz?” she said.
“That’s just the way it is. If you’re going to be a dancer, especially for us, you’re going to have to get used to being in the public eye 24/7.” I explained.
Rachel began pacing. “I’m going crazy! I need to get out of here!” she said.
There are many things that I’ve learned about Rachel's personality. One of them is that she is a very restless person. Whenever we were driving, Rachel was the one that was always moving around.
“Come on.” I said.
“Huh?” she asked.
“I’m gonna get you outta here.” I told her.
“But I look like crap!” she said.
“ A good looking piece of crap.” I joked.
“Let me go get changed.” She said. She went into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later.
The others had all gone to the beach, but Rachel couldn’t because of her cast, so I volunteered to stay and keep her company. She was wearing a baby-blue t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She grabbed her soccer slides. They were the only things that she could wear that fit over her cast.
She sat next to me on the bed and began brushing her reddish blonde hair. It was slightly curly due to the humidity and fell just past her shoulders.
“What should I do with my hair?” she asked.
I ran a hand through her soft and silky hair. “Leave it. It looks fine.” I said.
She sighed. “Okay. I’m ready.” She announced. “Where are we going?” Rachel asked.
“There’s a boardwalk I thought we could check out.” I told her.
We walked around for a while, then decided to get something to eat. After we ate our ice cream, we began walking back to the hotel.
Rachel shivered, so I put my arm around her waist. She had been given a walking cast so that she didn’t always need the crutches.
All of a sudden, we heard a scream from behind us. “Oh my god! Its AJ!”
We turned around and saw a girl of about 15 running towards us.
“Oh-my-god-AJ-I-love-you-I’m-going-to-your-concert-tonight-I-cant-wait-I-can’t-believe-I’m-talking-to-you-I-mean-you're-so-hot-is-that-Rachel?-are-you-going-out?” The girl managed to say in one breath.
“Yes, this is Rachel, but no we are not going out.” I answered.
“Then why are you alone and why is your arm around her waist?” The girl asked.
“We are alone because we wanted to hang out, and my arm is around her waist cuz she’s cold.” I said.
Putting my arm around her waist wouldn’t exactly warm her up. How my arm even got there was a mystery to me.
“Oh. Okay. Can I have your autographs and take a picture of you two?” she asked.
“Sure.” I answered.
I signed a piece of paper, so did Rachel. Then the girl took a picture of us.
“We really better get going. Nice to meet you.” Rachel said.
I'll Never Break Your Heart Index* Chapter 40* Chapter 42
