Seeing Stars (The Celebrity 1)

“I wrote a song about you last night,” Scotty said as he wrapped his arm around my waist and attempted to pull me closer.

“About me?” My young heart leaped at the idea of a boy writing a single sentence about me, let alone an entire song.

“Yeah. But it’s not finished yet.” He planted a damp kiss on my cheek and my face warmed.

“Is it romantic? What’s it about?”

Scotty laughed and then shook his head. “Not telling you anything until it’s finished.”

“Not even a hint? The chorus? A lyric?” I looked at him, my best puppy-dog eyes on display.

He turned his head to face me and kissed me with all the skill and passion a fifteen-year-old boy could muster. “It’s about the first girl I’ve ever loved. And how I hate the idea of another summer without her.”

My eyes instantly filled with tears as the rest of my body went numb. “You love me?”

We hadn’t said those words to each other, although God knew I’d loved him for half the summer already. As a young teenage girl, my heart was open and willing for him. It waited to be taken, to be claimed.

His fingers splayed across my hip, digging into my skin as he prepared to say the words I so nervously wanted him to. I knew I loved him, but I never wanted to say it first. What if he hadn’t loved me back? I couldn’t stand the humiliation. It would take everything in me to not pack my bags and beg my parents to take me back to the valley.

“I think I do,” he said. “You’ve made this summer perfect. You’re perfect.”

In that moment I had known I’d never find another boy quite like Scotty. His mom being sick had made him more vulnerable and sensitive. I had felt that every moment I spent with him, I was seeing a side of Scotty that no one else got to see.

“I think I love you too,” I said breathlessly.

But I didn’t “think” I loved him. I knew.

• • •

Interrupting my thoughts, Walker leaned his forehead against mine, dragging me back to the present. “I almost had a heart attack on that platform when I first saw you at the concert. I kept trying to convince myself that it wasn’t you. That it couldn’t be you. But deep down, I knew. And that headband, the way it sparkled above your head, drew my eyes to you. You looked so beautiful, like you stepped out of a fairy tale.”

I plopped down on the ground, feeling light-headed from squatting so long, and scooted closer to him. My eyes wanted to drown in him as my brain struggled to memorize every feature so that I’d never forget again. How could I have ever forgotten in the first place?

“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to keep singing after I saw you?” He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Holy shit, babe, I wanted to jump off that platform, take you in my arms, and run away. You know, give the tabloids something to really talk about!”

I laughed for the first time that day. It felt good to smile, even if my thoughts were racing at a breakneck pace.

“And after the show. When I realized you didn’t leave your number like I’d asked, I fucking lost it.”

“Lost it how?”

He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “I might have broken some things. No big deal.”

I looked away, suddenly embarrassed. “I thought you asked for every girl’s number. I mean, I just assumed you wanted to add me to your never-ending list of conquests. It pissed me off when you asked.”

Walker leaned forward and wiped the tears from my cheek, then cupped my face with his hand. “Only my girl would get pissed off when a celebrity asks for her number.”

My girl?

Lord, have mercy. I promise to hang on to this boy and never let him go if you let me have him. I don’t even need him wrapped up with a bow. I’ll take him just the way he is. Please.

“No number,” he went on. “And still no last name. But I was older this time and had more resources. There was no way I was letting you slip out of my life twice.” He leaned toward me, his lips meeting mine, and I melted into him, wanting to forget everything that ever existed before he sang his way back into my life.

Walker’s words and actions caused more tears to fall. I’d been so heartbroken after the summer ended and we eventually lost touch. No one had ever warned me that first loves could have such an impact on you. I wasn’t sure I’d ever fully recovered, although I’d definitely tried.

Sitting here now in the parking lot of this café, pain shot through my chest with each breath I took, a clear reminder that the scars left by those lost first loves never truly heal. At least, not without permanent damage.

His warm breath rustled my hair. “I’m sorry about losing touch.”