Seeing Stars (The Celebrity 1)

Once we were seated in our booth, I looked over at him, so proud of the man he had become. And I knew his mother would be too. Now it made sense why he had asked me last night if I remembered her being sick. Of course I had. His mom had been diagnosed the summer we met. I’d always thought that going through that together had bonded us in a deeper way. I never truly imagined how right I was.

• • •

I had been sitting in the sand playing fetch with one of the Johnsons’s dogs when I’d found myself mesmerized by the surfers in the water. The way they paddled out on their boards, moving in a particular direction before I even noticed any inkling of a wave forming, was beautiful to watch. When they would rise to their feet and maneuver the board like it was attached to them, cutting through waves doing tricks I couldn’t even imagine doing, I wanted to stand up and applaud.

One of the younger guys rode a small chopper until it ended at the shoreline. He tucked his board under his arm and jogged up to sit in the sand next to me. I almost asked him what he wanted when I noticed a pile of clothing sitting there.

“Hey,” he said, and I turned to see the hottest pair of hazel eyes staring back at me.

“Hey, yourself.”

“Local or tourist?” he asked as he lowered the zipper from his wetsuit and shimmied it halfway down his body, revealing his bare chest.

“Um…” I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. I wasn’t from Malibu, but I wasn’t a tourist either.

“Do you live here or are you from out of state?” A towel now sat wrapped tightly around his waist as he pulled the rest of his wetsuit free.

Hiding my nervousness, I looked away as I said, “I’m from the valley, but we’re staying here all summer.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched as his tanned feet stepped into a pair of board shorts and he pulled them up just as the towel fell away. “Which house?”

“The Johnsons’s.” I offered up the information freely, not pausing to consider whether it was safe to tell him.

“Cool. I live two doors down.” He pulled a black T-shirt over his head and tossed his wetsuit across his board.

My face lit up at the idea of having met a friend already. And the fact that he was a totally hot guy didn’t hurt either.

“What’s your name?”

“Madison. My name’s Madison.”

“I’m Scott. I’ll see you around, Madison from the valley,” he shouted over his shoulder as he carried his surfboard away.

“Wanna stay and hang out?” I called out, hoping he’d stop walking and come back to me.

He stopped and turned around. “I can’t. My mom’s sick and I need to get home. Just wanted to catch some waves before she woke up.” Then he waved and turned to head home.

“Oh, okay. See you around.”

I didn’t realize at the time that his mom was terminally ill. Being so young, I’d just assumed he meant she had the flu, or something harmless like that. It never occurred to me to think otherwise. A typical teenage girl, I was naïve and unaware.

• • •

My throat parched, I reached for the water on the table and downed the entire glass.

“You have a thing with water.” Walker smirked, his eyes searching mine, and I wanted to climb across the table and hop into his lap. “I still write songs about that summer, you know.” He bit his lip and my mind suddenly filled with all the naughty things I could do to that lip. And all the naughty things I would do to it.

My overactive imagination snapped back to reality with a thud. “What did you just say? Which songs?”

A rosy color crept over his cheeks as he looked down at the crumpled napkin he held. “‘The One Who Got Away’ and ‘That Summer,’ obviously,” he said as he tore at the napkin, placing bits of crinkled paper around the table as his eyes avoided mine. “And then, ‘Where’d She Go and Disappear.’”

I almost choked on my water at the mention of the last song. I was obsessed with it when it came out, hitting REPEAT on my iPod constantly so I could hear the haunting lyrics and melody one more time.

She said good-bye that day

But I never knew she meant it

I always wanted her to stay