Page 38 of Broken Chords
I look down at my body, taking advantage of her stunned silence. “You know where I’d be? About a size eight.”
Another gasp of horror greets that. I was a size four when I was on tour, thanks to a near starvation diet, engineered by my mother, grueling workouts, and performances three nights a week, minimum.
“You have to start this diet immediately. If you’re a size six for the photos, that might be okay.”
“Actually, it doesn’t even matter. For one thing, even as a size four they photoshop the shit out of it and make me look thinner. You know this as well as I do. But the real reason it doesn’t matter is because I’m not doing it. I’m not doing New Year’s Rockin’ Eve. I’m not doing the interviews. I’m not doing any of it. If you call and badger me about anything like this again, I will block your number.”
“But, Charlotte.” She’s pleading with me now. I think this is a first. Brow beating, bullying, and steamrolling are her usual MO. But that’s not working on me this time. Interesting that pleading is the next step.
“Charlotte, the speculation. Haven’t you seen what they’re saying about you?”
I swallow hard. “No. I haven’t. I’ve deliberately avoided all entertainment news outlets because I don’t want to know.” Lauren and I made a deal when we agreed to move in together that if she followed any of that stuff, she’d do it when I’m not around. And not tell me about any of it.
Mom sputters incoherently, and it’s my turn to heave a sigh. “Look, Mom. I know you think you’re looking out for me, but I need this time away. If you want to call and catch up and see how I’m doing, that’s fine. But if you’re going to call and tell me I have to do a performance or an interview or anything else related to my career, then I’m hanging up on you. Because it’smycareer.” I stab my finger into my own chest in emphasis, even though she can’t see me. “Mine. If I want to torpedo it beyond all chance of recovery, that’s my business. This is your last chance.”
I wait a beat, but she still hasn’t come up with anything to say.
“I’m hanging up now. I have class in twenty minutes, and I need to go. Goodbye.”
With that I pull the phone away from my face and push the red end button. Relief swamps me, and my tears start falling in earnest. I sit down on the floor, still barely beyond the square of parquet flooring that makes up our entry. Shudders rack my body as I cry into my hands.
Arms wrapping around my shoulders makes my head jerk up. Lauren gives me a squeeze and rubs my back. “Everything okay?”
I nod, wiping my nose on the back of my hand then scrubbing at my cheeks. “Yeah. Yeah. I think it’s actually better than it’s been in a long time.”
“I heard you telling off your mom.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Lauren. You were probably sleeping. I’m a shitty roommate. I should’ve gone into my room at least.”
She smiles. “It’s fine. But you’re okay? Wanna talk about it?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean yes, I’m fine. No, I don’t really want to talk about it. You’ve already overheard my half of the conversation, I’m sure you can probably piece together the rest. It’s nothing you don’t already know anyway.”
Her smile is sympathetic as she nods again. “Yeah. Good for you for standing up for yourself though.”
“Thanks.” My smile is still watery, but getting steadier.
She looks me over and then glances at the clock on the wall. “Are you sure you’re up for theory this morning? You’re still wearing your clothes from yesterday, you just got home, told your mom off, and your class starts in fifteen minutes. Even if you left right now, you’d barely make it on time.”
“And I still have to pee!”
Lauren jumps up and pulls me to my feet. “Go. Use the bathroom. Take a shower. We’ll go out for breakfast and you can fill me in on where you’ve been all night.” She grins at me and bounces her eyebrows up and down as she pushes me toward my room.
But I stop and give her a quick hug. “Thanks, Lauren. You’re the best.”
“I know.” She blows on her bent fingers and polishes them on her chest. “Not everyone can be as awesome as me. You all have to keep trying, though. What’s life without goals?”
Laughing, I head for my room. A good laugh with Lauren is exactly what I need after all this drama. Skipping class in favor of breakfast out—the opposite of my mom’s suggested juice fast starting immediately—sounds like exactly what I need.
