Say Anything You Want, I'll Turn the Music Up
Chapter 12: Big Time Surprise
Say Anything You Want, I'll Turn the Music Up
Chapter 12: Big Time Surprise
“I'm not going. I'm not going. Have fun crashing the party without me. I'll just, I don't know, sit at home crying while watching Keith and secretly fawning over Jesse McCartney's hotness in that movie, okay?”
“Listen to you!” Rain cried, grabbing my arm and pulling me to sit down on her bed. I had jumped up and was about to race out the door the second the words The Palm Woods came out of Faith's mouth.
“Don't be a party pooper, Harper,” Faith agreed, and I thought maybe Rain had possessed her party because that was totally unlike Faith. She was normally always neutral about these things, Rain was the pushy one.
“Seriously? How can you two not even take my side? You know I had to shut down my twitter, facebook, and even tumblr because of all the hate mail I get? Why would I go to a party at his house?!”
“Harper!” Rain cried. “It's a masquerade ball! He won't even recognize you. Come on, we'll get you one of those intricate masks, with like, feathers going all the way down or something. And anyway, he's not even invited to the party.”
“And we were?” I shot back, and that shut her up because she realized what I was saying, but I vocalized it anyway. “That's not stopping us from crashing; what's to stop a girl crazy guy like that from crashing? Why do you think those girls paid big bucks to have their party at the Palm Woods anyway? They knew there would be famous people there and that was exactly what they wanted!”
“Okay, point proven,” Rain said. “But I still think you're just being stubborn. There is no way he will recognize you.”
“He will,” I said, “trust me.”
“I mean,” Rain continued as if I'd said nothing, “look at that movie Rags. The guy is hot as hell, he's her best friend, and she still didn't recognize him at the party thing. Even though, you know, it was obviously his voice and stuff, and even when he kissed her—“
“Rain! That's a movie. No one is that stupid in real life! Well, he-who-shall-not-be-named might be that stupid when it comes to almost everything, but even he would recognize me, especially after everything. Anyway, I can't show my face—even masked—there again, Bitters will throw me out.” Yeah, totally viable excuse Harper.
Rain snorted at that last bit, then sighed. “You're not gonna budge, are you?”
“Nope.” I folded my arms over my chest. “You two have fun. And if you do by chance see James, pour another coke over his head for me. It's the least he deserves.”
“Better yet, I'll smash his face in the punch bowl,” Rain grinned.
I smiled half-heartedly. “Please and thank you.” I didn't miss Rain's conspiratorial glance at Faith though, as if one way or another they were going to drag me to the Palm Woods. Over my dead body. I'd kill them both first.
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It was the day before the party at the Palm Woods, and Rain was trying to torture me by twirling around in her dress, getting me to help with her mask, etc. I knew what she was doing: she was trying to manipulate me into going by showing me how fun it would be. Too. Bad.
She was right in the middle of putting on another pair of shoes to see if it matched her dress when she abruptly stopped and groaned. “That is IT! I have had it with this boo-hoo pity party you've got going on! What happened to the Recovery Plan, hmm? You're not even trying. You're still letting this stupid idiot ruin your life. It's over. He apologized on live TV, and even if he didn't really mean that, he tried to apologize to you. What are you gonna do, spend the rest of your life in front of the computer having no fun in witness protection program?”
“I have loads of fun on the computer,” I mumbled.
“Oh my God,” she said with a shake of her head. “I know you hate him. I hate him too for what he did to you. But I hate him mostly because you're letting what he did take away your life. He's famous, yeah, there's nothing you can do about the fangirls except actually go into witness protection. But you can't let them keep you from having a social life. Now, you are going to go to this party if I have to drug you and hogtie you!”
“I am not. Any other party, anywhere else. It's just using good judgment not to go somewhere where he'll for sure ruin my night.”
She groaned again. “Before you say I'm taking his side or anything—I'm not. I want what's best for you. I want the old Harper back that I love, not this miserable one.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm saying,” she said, as if I was thick, “you need to make amends; not really make amends, but the real reason you won't forgive him or even let go of the whole thing: you're too stubborn to admit defeat.”
“Millions of people,” I whispered. “He mortified me in front of thousands of fans. Millions of people.”
“I know, and that sucks. And again, not taking his side, but your pigheadedness is what started the whole thing to begin with. You could have just left, but being you, you had to 'teach him a lesson' and pour a Coke over his head. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but did he not take a slice of your humble pie because he learned he was a jerk and freaking apologize at your house? Whatever. Don't let anything I said get through your massively thick skull. I'm your best friend though, Harper. I know the truth, or at least knew before he took it too far anyway.”
“What is that?” I whispered. I couldn't speak up.
“You like—well, liked—him. Had feelings for him. You enjoyed your little game, because it brought you closer. And you saw something in him—maybe what those 3 best friends of his see—that told you maybe he wasn't all that shallow, and you wanted to see if you could bring out that sweet side, but both of you are exactly the same and neither wanted to lose.”
“You're wrong. I never had feelings for James Diamond. I never even contemplated any of that bull crap you just said about trying to bring something out in him or whatever—“
“Maybe not consciously—“
“What, you're a psychic now, you can read my subconscious when I can't? Give it up, Rain. I hate him, I hate his type, stupid stuck up jocks that have the world handed to them on a platter. And FYI, I have admitted defeat, okay, I told him he won, and that was the end.”
“Harper, please.”
“Your persistence is annoying. But I'm not giving in. We can go clubbing again instead, even though I hate that.”
“Do I have to drag your butt to the Palm Woods so you can talk to him?”
“You wouldn't dare. You say you're trying to be my friend, but if you were you wouldn't be trying to hurt me like this.”
Just then the doorbell rang. I assumed it was Faith or something until she said, with a guilty lowering of her head, “Look, don't hate me.”
“What did you do?? YOU GAVE HIM YOUR ADDRESS??” She rushed off to the door. “No, come back here! Fine, I'm going out the back door.”
She grabbed my arm. “Harper! I'll be there the whole time so neither of you can try anything. Anyway. He contacted me, asking if there was anything he could do. He says he really wants to make it up to you, and I believe him, I don't believe he's all bad as you say.”
“He could never make it up to me, not in a million—“
She threw the door open and I stopped abruptly. “Hi, James,” she said with a weak smile. I was so close to ripping out her throat.
I would have gone at James too, except for the fact that he looked terrible—still gorgeous as ever, but dark bags under his eyes, bloodshot hazel eyes, and his hair didn't look as perfectly placed as usual.
“Yes, hi, James,” I repeated stiffly, mostly to throw him off. It worked; his mouth opened into a round O and he looked like my speaking to him was the shock of the century. I was honestly shocked myself.
I had control, and I was going to keep it. “Look, there's a party at the Palm Woods tomorrow night, and I'm going. I had better not see you, not even have any inkling that you're there—“
“I can't promise that,” he said with a smirk, but his eyes didn't sparkle like usual. He sobered up. “Kidding. Fine. You don't want me there, I won't be there. I really am sorry for everything, Harper. I even went to the press and told—“
I snorted. “That was totally staged. Who wrote your speech with all those SAT words, Logan?”
He didn't respond, and I sighed. “I can't forgive you. I can try, like now, to be civil if I happen to see you, but purposely crossing paths such as you showing up at a party you know I'll be at? Another story.”
“Maybe I already had my costume and everything for that party,” he quipped.
My mouth twitched. “Whatever. I'll try not to rip your throat out if I happen to see you. But don't come purposely looking for me, and if any of your fans so much as tries—“
“I'm trying to fix things with the fans.” He sighed. “I didn't want it to be like this, Harper.”
“Yeah, well, it is like this. Maybe both of us are to blame, but you had no right involving the whole world, and I will never see you as anything but a jerk.”
He snorted this time. "Fine with me. See you 'round."
"You won't," I retorted.
He smiled, not a real smile but an evil grin I was so used to. "I wouldn't bet on that, Harp."
Chapter 12: Big Time Surprise
“I'm not going. I'm not going. Have fun crashing the party without me. I'll just, I don't know, sit at home crying while watching Keith and secretly fawning over Jesse McCartney's hotness in that movie, okay?”
“Listen to you!” Rain cried, grabbing my arm and pulling me to sit down on her bed. I had jumped up and was about to race out the door the second the words The Palm Woods came out of Faith's mouth.
“Don't be a party pooper, Harper,” Faith agreed, and I thought maybe Rain had possessed her party because that was totally unlike Faith. She was normally always neutral about these things, Rain was the pushy one.
“Seriously? How can you two not even take my side? You know I had to shut down my twitter, facebook, and even tumblr because of all the hate mail I get? Why would I go to a party at his house?!”
“Harper!” Rain cried. “It's a masquerade ball! He won't even recognize you. Come on, we'll get you one of those intricate masks, with like, feathers going all the way down or something. And anyway, he's not even invited to the party.”
“And we were?” I shot back, and that shut her up because she realized what I was saying, but I vocalized it anyway. “That's not stopping us from crashing; what's to stop a girl crazy guy like that from crashing? Why do you think those girls paid big bucks to have their party at the Palm Woods anyway? They knew there would be famous people there and that was exactly what they wanted!”
“Okay, point proven,” Rain said. “But I still think you're just being stubborn. There is no way he will recognize you.”
“He will,” I said, “trust me.”
“I mean,” Rain continued as if I'd said nothing, “look at that movie Rags. The guy is hot as hell, he's her best friend, and she still didn't recognize him at the party thing. Even though, you know, it was obviously his voice and stuff, and even when he kissed her—“
“Rain! That's a movie. No one is that stupid in real life! Well, he-who-shall-not-be-named might be that stupid when it comes to almost everything, but even he would recognize me, especially after everything. Anyway, I can't show my face—even masked—there again, Bitters will throw me out.” Yeah, totally viable excuse Harper.
Rain snorted at that last bit, then sighed. “You're not gonna budge, are you?”
“Nope.” I folded my arms over my chest. “You two have fun. And if you do by chance see James, pour another coke over his head for me. It's the least he deserves.”
“Better yet, I'll smash his face in the punch bowl,” Rain grinned.
I smiled half-heartedly. “Please and thank you.” I didn't miss Rain's conspiratorial glance at Faith though, as if one way or another they were going to drag me to the Palm Woods. Over my dead body. I'd kill them both first.
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It was the day before the party at the Palm Woods, and Rain was trying to torture me by twirling around in her dress, getting me to help with her mask, etc. I knew what she was doing: she was trying to manipulate me into going by showing me how fun it would be. Too. Bad.
She was right in the middle of putting on another pair of shoes to see if it matched her dress when she abruptly stopped and groaned. “That is IT! I have had it with this boo-hoo pity party you've got going on! What happened to the Recovery Plan, hmm? You're not even trying. You're still letting this stupid idiot ruin your life. It's over. He apologized on live TV, and even if he didn't really mean that, he tried to apologize to you. What are you gonna do, spend the rest of your life in front of the computer having no fun in witness protection program?”
“I have loads of fun on the computer,” I mumbled.
“Oh my God,” she said with a shake of her head. “I know you hate him. I hate him too for what he did to you. But I hate him mostly because you're letting what he did take away your life. He's famous, yeah, there's nothing you can do about the fangirls except actually go into witness protection. But you can't let them keep you from having a social life. Now, you are going to go to this party if I have to drug you and hogtie you!”
“I am not. Any other party, anywhere else. It's just using good judgment not to go somewhere where he'll for sure ruin my night.”
She groaned again. “Before you say I'm taking his side or anything—I'm not. I want what's best for you. I want the old Harper back that I love, not this miserable one.”
“What are you saying?”
“I'm saying,” she said, as if I was thick, “you need to make amends; not really make amends, but the real reason you won't forgive him or even let go of the whole thing: you're too stubborn to admit defeat.”
“Millions of people,” I whispered. “He mortified me in front of thousands of fans. Millions of people.”
“I know, and that sucks. And again, not taking his side, but your pigheadedness is what started the whole thing to begin with. You could have just left, but being you, you had to 'teach him a lesson' and pour a Coke over his head. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but did he not take a slice of your humble pie because he learned he was a jerk and freaking apologize at your house? Whatever. Don't let anything I said get through your massively thick skull. I'm your best friend though, Harper. I know the truth, or at least knew before he took it too far anyway.”
“What is that?” I whispered. I couldn't speak up.
“You like—well, liked—him. Had feelings for him. You enjoyed your little game, because it brought you closer. And you saw something in him—maybe what those 3 best friends of his see—that told you maybe he wasn't all that shallow, and you wanted to see if you could bring out that sweet side, but both of you are exactly the same and neither wanted to lose.”
“You're wrong. I never had feelings for James Diamond. I never even contemplated any of that bull crap you just said about trying to bring something out in him or whatever—“
“Maybe not consciously—“
“What, you're a psychic now, you can read my subconscious when I can't? Give it up, Rain. I hate him, I hate his type, stupid stuck up jocks that have the world handed to them on a platter. And FYI, I have admitted defeat, okay, I told him he won, and that was the end.”
“Harper, please.”
“Your persistence is annoying. But I'm not giving in. We can go clubbing again instead, even though I hate that.”
“Do I have to drag your butt to the Palm Woods so you can talk to him?”
“You wouldn't dare. You say you're trying to be my friend, but if you were you wouldn't be trying to hurt me like this.”
Just then the doorbell rang. I assumed it was Faith or something until she said, with a guilty lowering of her head, “Look, don't hate me.”
“What did you do?? YOU GAVE HIM YOUR ADDRESS??” She rushed off to the door. “No, come back here! Fine, I'm going out the back door.”
She grabbed my arm. “Harper! I'll be there the whole time so neither of you can try anything. Anyway. He contacted me, asking if there was anything he could do. He says he really wants to make it up to you, and I believe him, I don't believe he's all bad as you say.”
“He could never make it up to me, not in a million—“
She threw the door open and I stopped abruptly. “Hi, James,” she said with a weak smile. I was so close to ripping out her throat.
I would have gone at James too, except for the fact that he looked terrible—still gorgeous as ever, but dark bags under his eyes, bloodshot hazel eyes, and his hair didn't look as perfectly placed as usual.
“Yes, hi, James,” I repeated stiffly, mostly to throw him off. It worked; his mouth opened into a round O and he looked like my speaking to him was the shock of the century. I was honestly shocked myself.
I had control, and I was going to keep it. “Look, there's a party at the Palm Woods tomorrow night, and I'm going. I had better not see you, not even have any inkling that you're there—“
“I can't promise that,” he said with a smirk, but his eyes didn't sparkle like usual. He sobered up. “Kidding. Fine. You don't want me there, I won't be there. I really am sorry for everything, Harper. I even went to the press and told—“
I snorted. “That was totally staged. Who wrote your speech with all those SAT words, Logan?”
He didn't respond, and I sighed. “I can't forgive you. I can try, like now, to be civil if I happen to see you, but purposely crossing paths such as you showing up at a party you know I'll be at? Another story.”
“Maybe I already had my costume and everything for that party,” he quipped.
My mouth twitched. “Whatever. I'll try not to rip your throat out if I happen to see you. But don't come purposely looking for me, and if any of your fans so much as tries—“
“I'm trying to fix things with the fans.” He sighed. “I didn't want it to be like this, Harper.”
“Yeah, well, it is like this. Maybe both of us are to blame, but you had no right involving the whole world, and I will never see you as anything but a jerk.”
He snorted this time. "Fine with me. See you 'round."
"You won't," I retorted.
He smiled, not a real smile but an evil grin I was so used to. "I wouldn't bet on that, Harp."