“Eww this is gross,” Summer cringed as she attempted to pull the soaked skirt away from her legs.
“You started it,” Lance pointed out.
“Well you didn’t have to finish it,” she whined.
They were walking back up the beach after their splash-war. After initiating the attack Summer had in fact turned out worse off with her skirt now clinging uncomfortably to her body.
“I guess we should get out of here,” Lance said as he looked down at his own wet clothing.
“Do we have to? It’s not that late. Besides, I’m having fun.”
“You can’t stay in that, you’ll catch your death.”
“I saw a blanket in the back, we can just wrap up in that.”
Lance looked at her uncertainly.
“Come on Lance,” she coaxed. “For me?” she put in for good measure.
“Ugh!” Lance cried, defeated. “But it’s your fault if we freeze to death.”
She grinned, knowing in that instance that she’d won.
Lance grabbed the large blanket from the back of the car and opened it up. When he looked up she was shimmying out of her skirt.
“What are you doing?” he stammered.
She looked up and grinned. “Relax, I have underwear on.”
And she did. If she’d been wearing them on the beach in the daytime he would have just thought they were bikini briefs. There was nothing at all risqué about them, but he still hesitated in approaching her before realising what an idiot he was being; he’d seen women in a hell of a lot less.
“You gonna leave them on?” she asked, nodding towards his pants which were rolled up to his knees and dripping trails of seawater down his legs.
The question seemed innocent enough, but he could tell from the twinkle in her eye that she knew it sounded suggestive.
She rolled her eyes. “I promise I won’t jump you.”
He pouted. “You won’t?”
He chuckled and began to remove his pants, wringing the legs of them out before laying them with her skirt on the hood of the car.
He sat down behind her and pulled the thick woollen blanket around them. “You’re nuts, you know that?”
She just smiled in response as she rested her head back on his shoulder.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the sounds of the waves breaking.
“This is nice,” he sighed in satisfaction. “I never get a chance to just relax anymore. Last time I went to the beach I ended up with a crowd of fans circling the area where I was sitting, just standing there, staring and taking pictures.”
“Well there’s no one here but us tonight,” she said, looking down the length of deserted beach.
“I should hope so, I don’t need a picture of this on the front page of some tabloid.”
“So tell me about yourself.”
It was a question he was asked almost daily, but he had to really think about the way in which to answer.
“And not some standard answer you give the teeny press either.”
“Okay,” he sighed. Where to start… “Alright. Name: James Lance Bass. Age: 22. Up until a few years ago I was a normal kid, growing up in Mississippi with my parents and sister. I was kinda dorky.”
“I can see that.”
“Hey!” he protested, nudging her shoulder.
“Carry on,” she laughed.
“Then I got a phone call which changed my life. My parents were totally not down with the idea of me crossing the country, leaving school, becoming a rock star.”
“Rock star?” she laughed.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “My mom was convinced it was going to be all late nights, drinking, drugs, and groupies.”
“And was it?”
He shrugged. “It could’ve been. Lord knows I’ve seen it all, and I can see how easy it is to fall into that lifestyle.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Too sensible?” he shrugged. “Too boring… I guess the people around us have a lot to do with it. I’m not saying we’re angels, far from it. We have a drink when we go out…” He took a deep breath and decided to be completely honest. “And there have been women.” She turned her head to look at him. He was surprised to not see condemnation written on her face. She wasn’t judging him, she was just letting him talk.
“That gets old fast, though. Come morning they would be gone and you end up being lonely again, if not more than before.
“It was worse in the beginning, when we were touring around Europe, trying to get our music heard. We didn’t stay anywhere longer than five minutes, we were homesick, tired... During the day it wasn’t so bad, we got to do what we loved and it was exciting. It was the nights. Our body clocks were messed up so bad; we were in and out of time zones like a yo-yo. It was either sit in your hotel room and end up in tears feeling sorry for yourself, or go out and try and forget about everything for a while.
“Don’t get me wrong, I was no bed-hopper., but there are a couple of people I would have never even looked at under different circumstances.”
“It got better though?” she asked.
“Yeah, a lot. When the whole thing with our manager was over and we were actually making enough money to bring family and friends out, it was great.”
“But?”
He sighed. Why did he feel like she knew him so well already. “But after a while you learn that your friends and family have their own lives and you can’t keep dragging them all over the country because you feel lonely.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”
“But I do. I chose this life, not them. I can’t expect them to drop everything to follow me around.”
“What about the others?”
Lance shrugged. “It seems to be getting easier for them, where as it seems to get harder for me.”
“Because they have girlfriends?” she asked knowingly.
“I guess.” He took a breath, deciding to change the subject. “So what about you?”
“What about me?” she laughed.
“What’s your deal?” he grinned.
“Summer Ann Walker, coming up to my 22nd year of corrupting mankind, born and bred in Los Angeles, California; live with the parents, 3 brothers, 2 sisters, and a dog called Jaws.”
Lance laughed, resting his cheek on her shoulder. “Should I be scared?”
“Of the family? Hell yeah.”
“I meant the dog,” he laughed.
“Nah, the dog’s a wuss. Where was I? I’m an art student, I want to travel, do something crazy before I die, oh and I like diamonds if you’re feeling generous.”
“I’ll take note,” he grinned. He knew for certain that she was joking. She didn’t come across the type who would willingly accept gifts just for the hell of it.
“I’m just a normal girl, Lance, that’s why I find it strange that you’re sitting here with me now. I don’t have any outstanding attributes, I get cranky, I get zits, and I look like shit when I wake up in the morning.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Fake people make me sick, you don’t know cranky until you’ve shared a room with Justin, everyone gets zits, and looking like crap in the morning…well join the club. I like a real girl. I have no wish to wake up to a woman who has either dived out of bed at the crack of dawn to put her make-up on so I don’t see her without her mask, or wearing so much shit on her face that her eyelashes are stuck together from the amount of mascara she shoved on the day before.”
“Who said you’d get to see me when I wake up?”
“A man can wish,” he said smoothly.
“Good save.”
“You busy tomorrow?”
“Now that depends.”
“On what?”
“What you’re gonna ask me.”
“How about dinner? It’s my last night here,” he said sadly. Not a week ago he couldn’t wait to leave, but now he wasn’t so eager to go.
“Hmm, where do you suggest?”
He grinned. “Now that’s the good part. I was thinking we go to Bertorelli’s ”
“Bertorelli’s. The same Bertorelli’s you got me fired from?”
Lance cringed. “You just keep bringing that up don’t you. I was thinking we could go there, rub it in that guys face a bit, be pain in the ass customers.”
A wicked grin spread across her face. “I like your thinking. But, Lance, the prices there are through the roof.”
“I’ve got it covered. It’s the least I can do. So what do you say?”
“I say it’s a date.”
A date. He liked that idea.
“Summer?” Vanessa whispered loudly as she stepped out of the bathroom, watching the dark shadow move down the hall. “Summer, is that you?”
“Who else do you think would be sneaking around the house at 3 am? You’d be a goner now if I was a burglar.”
“Where’ve you been?”
“Out.”
“With who? Lance?”
“Yeah.”
“You know for the first time in your life you’ve done something pretty cool, Sum. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, creeping further along the hall, trying to avoid the floorboards which creaked.
“Summer?”
“What, Vanessa?” she hissed impatiently. It was late, she was tired, and waking their parents was not a great idea.
“Be careful.”
Summer spun to face Vanessa, her eyes now adjusting to the darkness. “What do you mean?”
“He seems nice and all, but he’s famous and…just be careful…I don’t want you to get hurt,” she finished, softly.
Summer smiled and walked back to where Vanessa stood. She wrapped her sister in a hug and whispered, “Thanks for caring, I’ll be fine, though. This is me remember?”
“Summer?”
“Yeah?” she asked, stepping back.
“Why are you all wet?”
Summer chuckled quietly. “Long story, sis. Long story.”
Note: Bertorelli’s is a real restaurant but in London, not LA. There is one next to the Royal Opera House but be warned, it’s expensive.
Chapter 10
Chapter Index
Stories Page
Main Page