Stargazing from Nowhere

By Marilyn Thomas and Isabel Thomas

Kristen Morgan's blog is about to get her into trouble. Deep trouble.

Online, she is known as "Stargazer" from the popular Stargazing from Nowhere blog, while in real life she is a regular fifteen-year-old high school student. This online anonymity is quite liberating, allowing her to be completely honest with her readers. Through a twist of fate, Rising Tide, the band she has bashed the most online, ends up in her small town, which sends Kristen into an excited panic.

To continue gathering fresh material for her blog, she poses as a Rising Tide fan. After sneaking into the band's private party, she comes face to face with the band's drummer, Michael Stevens, who happens to be even more gorgeous in person than she cares to admit. Something unexpected also happens to her when she meets him: she becomes giddy, nervous, and inarticulate, leading Kristen to realize that her interest in Michael has nothing to do with her blog, but everything to do with her heart.
As Kristen and Michael grow closer, does she have to make a choice between blog or boyfriend...Or is the choice made for her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marilyn Thomas
• Release date: Aug 20, 2013
• ISBN: 9780988044814

Book preview

STARGAZING FROM NOWHERE is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, organizations and incidents are either the products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Book Cover Design by Robin Ludwig Design, Inc.

Copyright © 2013

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without express written permission of the authors.

ISBN  978-0-9880448-0-7 (paper)

ISBN  978-0-9880448-1-4 (eBook)

Celebrity — Fiction

High Schools — Juvenile Fiction

Schools — Juvenile Fiction

Minnesota (State) —Fiction

Young Women — Fiction

Teen Romance — Fiction

Published by Do Art Publishing, Toronto, Canada

Smashwords Edition

To our mother, Fernanda, and to our grandmother, Lidia,

for their unwavering love, support and enthusiasm.

Contents

1. Minding My Own Blog

2. Taking Care of Business

3. V.I.P.

4. Day of Unrest

5. Reality Check

6. Backstage Pass

7. The Gift of Music

8. Fair Game

9. Special Ingredient

10. Just Desserts

11. Tick Tock

12. Who’s Watching Whom?

13. Rewind, Please

14. Facing the Music

15. Ghost Town

16. Counting My Blessings

17. A New Chapter

Visit Stargazing from Nowhere online

Acknowledgements

Coming soon! Wish Carefully

About the Authors

stargazingfromnowhere.com

Hey Stargazers,

I knew it, I knew it, and I knew it. Rising Tide is breaking up!

You know what a big fan of theirs I used to be, but after their pathetic second album came out, I realized that these guys were not legit musicians. They’ve let us down, and the worst part is they act like they haven’t, and they just keep going along with their grand and glamorous lifestyle, without any explanation as to why they sold us total junk, and they’re trying to do it to us again. I, like most of you, was hoping that Rising Tide’s second album would be as great as their first. I could even forgive the sophomore album curse, but this was an insult to anyone who bought it wasted their money on it. When the people we trust to inspire, understand and represent us, sell us out and treat us like we’re stupid, then we should stop supporting them.

As you know, they have been in the studio recording their third album, and one of those songs was leaked last week—it was total garbage. The worst they’ve ever sounded. It proves that they don’t know or care about their fans at all. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of those ancient guys in a suit wrote the entire song one day while out at lunch. Who do they think they’re fooling? They’re making zero effort with their music. Because their leaked song sucks, it most likely means that their new album was on its way to sucking too.

It’s about time that this band called it quits, and according to my source, that’s exactly what’s happening as I type this. My source, who’s very trusted, trust me , just informed me that their producer quit, and that their L.A. studio session for their new album has been canceled. CANCELED!!!

Stargazingly yours,

Stargazing from Nowhere

stargazingfromnowhere.com

Comments

lovesblues posted:

Stargazer, you are the best music blogger out there. Everyone else is a sell-out. You tell it like it is. You’re the kind of guy I’d hang out with.

dancingprincess posted:

UR too mean, Stargazer. Rising Tide is sooooo cute!

risingtide4evah posted:

You frustrated loser, leave the band alone and get a job.

skaterbeach posted:

What’s everyone getting all worked up for? Sorry, Stargazer, you got it wrong this time. My brother works at a restaurant near their recording studio, and overheard the band talking when they came in to grab some lunch. They were huddled in a booth talking strategy with their manager, and while it’s true that they got into an argument with someone at the studio, they’re not breaking up.

1. Minding My Own Blog

NO SURFING THE INTERNET, KRISTEN, Ms. Lane said, sounding unusually impatient as she stood over me, peering down at my computer screen. Despite my irritation, I flushed with embarrassment. I couldn’t blame her for invading my privacy, as it was her second warning to me this period. My English class was using the computer lab to work on a media assignment, but instead of focusing on it, I was intent on reading the comments on my blog from yesterday’s post. And since cell phones in class were strictly forbidden, I had no other choice. This wasn’t the wisest thing to do now, but I had no time to waste. I had been ultra careful about not getting caught, but Ms. Lane was one of those teachers who seemed to have eyes at the back of her head. I wasn’t going to make the situation worse by getting a third warning from her, so I practiced some self-restraint, closed the page, and counted down the remaining minutes of class. It’s not that I didn’t like school, it’s more that the wait for breaking news about Rising Tide’s future as a band made me unable to concentrate on anything else. I was simply eager to get to the bottom of it. Lately, between doing homework and helping out at Mom’s store, Ruthie’s Boutique, I hadn’t uncovered as much as I would’ve liked.

You see, I was an anonymous blogger with my very own blog, who told the truth about what teens like me thought about music, movies, and anything else that might catch my attention. Online people knew me only as Stargazer from the pretty popular blog, Stargazing from Nowhere. Readers had no idea that Stargazer was me, Kristen Morgan, a fifteen-year-old high school student, who lived a regular and somewhat boring existence offline.

At first, my blog had begun as a way for me to connect with people outside of my hometown, because I had always had this yearning to know what it was like to live somewhere else. It was kind of like walking by someone’s house, and peering in to see it all cozy and comfortable, to the point that you could imagine yourself walking up to the front door, out of the cold, and know that all you had to do was ring the doorbell, and you’d be welcomed in for a cup of hot chocolate. Having my blog was like that for me. I got to meet people from different parts of the world, and they let me into their lives by sharing their cultural tastes and opinions with me, and me with them.

My blog helped me to feel like I was already living outside of this place. Even if my real name was top secret, it was still me they were talking to. It surprised me that in just under two years, I found myself having a pretty loyal following, which also completely thrilled me.

I knew I ran the risk of having my online identity revealed by signing into my blog at school, but I hadn’t been able to resist the urge to do some investigating. After all, desperate times require desperate measures. If my popularity as a popular culture blogger was to continue growing as it had been, then I had no choice. At the moment, I was far from knowing the full story, thanks to Ms. Lane and her ultra strict rules regarding technology. Rising Tide, my former favorite band, was rumored to be splitting up, but the more I searched, the more conflicting information I found. Aside from my most trusted source, I had several others, some anonymous, some not, who routinely informed me of some pretty important stuff. How else would I be so in the loop? News did not travel fast to my hometown of Spencerville, Minnesota, population under 10,000, but in the blogosphere, there were no excuses, so to remain relevant, I had to be in the know. This was a job that was too big to research on my phone: I needed to be at my computer, and fast.

Two twenty in the afternoon couldn’t come fast enough. As soon as the bell rang, I flew out of class. It had actually been an interesting lesson, but I knew if I were to linger after class, I’d feel compelled to stay, and speak to Ms. Lane about it because she was one of those teachers who really loved to sneak in teaching students at every opportunity, and she could go on forever. She had also started a really cool weekly book club, which was her pride and joy, and I sometimes liked to stay after school for it. There was a very small part of me that would have enjoyed staying today since the book club’s current choice was Jane Austen’s Emma, which admittedly, I had devoured. But today, I just couldn’t sit still long enough to stay and discuss it. Besides, I wasn’t in the mood to talk about a girl who meddled and gossiped about others. I had a blog to get to!

• • •

I HEADED HOME FROM SPENCERVILLE HIGH, my pink scarf wrapped around my neck as I pedaled my bike as fast as I could, hoping to get there faster than the usual twenty minutes it normally took me. Spencerville is the kind of town you see in movies sometimes: white picket fences, sprawling yards strewn with skateboards and bikes, with people always ready to engage in small talk. Even the most disagreeable teenager had to show good manners or their family would hear about how they’d offended Mr. or Mrs. So and So by not asking about their gardening or their current ailment. It was the type of place that made teenagers feel old, and the elderly feel young.

Although it wasn’t a big deal, the town did have one claim to fame, and that was solely due to its notable geographical location. We were situated on the 45th parallel, which meant that latitude-wise, we were exactly halfway between the equator and the North Pole. Although we weren’t the only town in the country to claim this, we sure acted like it, going as far as having, at the entrance to town, a gigantic globe-shaped dome and accompanying sign to commemorate  this.

Not much changed in Spencerville. The changing seasons, however, served as a gentle reminder that life did move forward, and that change was inevitable. Summer felt like summer, and winter felt like winter. And September was by far my favorite month.

By the time September rolled around here, the sun’s rays seemed to gently hang back, allowing for a cool breeze to seep through, as if to remind us that summer was reluctantly leaving, and in its place, a fabulous and crisp fall was energetically ready to step in. Ever since I can remember, I have always felt the promise of beautiful fall days ahead at the start of each and every September. It has always been my favorite month because everything seems new and promising, so much more than even the start of a new year in January. Not only were there new books, new courses, and new teachers, but it also meant that I was one year closer to freedom. This was my junior year and I was excited about being even one step closer to graduating. For the most part, I liked Spencerville High, but I was getting antsy about the future. Inasmuch as I was looking forward to my life outside of this place, I had no idea where it would take me, but I thought college might be a good starting point, even though I had no idea at all which college I wanted to attend, or what I was interested in pursuing. All I knew for certain was that I wanted something different and exciting once I graduated from high school.

Although I would never completely leave Spencerville, or Mom, the way that my older sister, Belinda, had, I yearned for something more from life. I wasn’t sure what exactly, but as I made my way through Main Street with its neat, quaint stores and quiet tree-lined streets, I felt the familiar twinge of longing for something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was a feeling I couldn’t shake. The feeling that something else, something bigger, something better, was waiting for me. I had felt this way as long as I could remember. I just knew that one day my life could be glamorous, unpredictable and exciting. Maybe I’d even be famous one day.

Just not today.

The two worlds, mine (ordinary high school student/blogger) and theirs (famous people like movie stars, rock stars and the super rich), were markedly separate.

Maybe I had always dreamt of what it would be like to be successful and famous because of my uncle Jack, one of the few people in town who had ventured out to find great success. He’s my mother’s slightly younger brother, and he’s pretty successful in his field, and was for sure, the closest to a famous person that I had ever known, although he wasn’t really famous himself. He was a behind-the-scenes kind of person, working with famous and established musicians as a music producer. He had left the hustle and bustle of the crazy business, as he liked to say, to enjoy reading a book once in a while, and to watch the ducks swim in the lake from his backyard. This had never made a lot of sense to me since I thought he could read anywhere, and beautiful as the view from his backyard was, I thought it was all actually kind of sad. He had built this huge, beautiful mansion, complete with a state of the art recording studio because he was going to get married and be spending a lot more downtime there, but a month before the wedding, the bride-to-be backed out.

That’s when Uncle Jack decided to take some time off from living on the west coast, and the music business altogether. That was four years ago, and he’s lived in Spencerville full-time ever since. He didn’t seem depressed about it or anything like that. In fact, I’d never seen him happier. I think he actually forgot about his other life. It’s too bad that he had his heart broken, because honestly, he’s the nicest, kindest person you will ever meet, and he has really been there for us.

Okay, I admit it, he was also the main source of gossip for my blog, only he didn’t know it. He still had friends in the industry with whom he had kept in frequent contact with, and they often called and visited, stopping by for a weekend here and there. He would even bring them over to our house for dinner, and of course, he always had his door open for us, so I’d go over whenever, and hang out. It’s amazing what you can pick up when people around you go about their lives, and don’t think they have to watch what they say around you. Nobody, including him, thought that they had to censor themselves around me. They didn’t think I was paying attention while they talked shop, a.k.a. gossiped. But was I ever! I was surprised at how easy it was to get information about famous people, and also by how much adults can gossip. They made the girls in my school look tame by comparison.

Before I knew it, I was turning the corner into my street, Pottery Hill Road. Mrs. Davis, who’d been seeing me come home from school most of my life, paused from raking her leaves to throw me a wave as I rang my bell in greeting. She was a great neighbor who sometimes baked us apple cinnamon cookies, and on occasion she would invite Mom over for coffee, mercifully taking her off my hands for an afternoon of peace and nag-free quiet.

Seventy-two Pottery Hill Road is where I’ve always lived. Our house is nothing extraordinary, but it has always been cozy, comfortable and filled with countless good memories, many of them including Dad. I had found living here immediately after my dad’s fatal car accident really hard because everywhere I’d turn, I’d remember something about him. It was especially difficult for both me and Mom to deal with (my sister had already left Spencerville by then), so much so that I honestly thought she for sure was going to sell the house to start fresh in a different part of town. But then both of us had agreed that maybe it would be okay to stay put once we acknowledged that, although it was hard to be surrounded by memories of Dad with him gone, staying in the house we had shared as a family would always make us feel close to him, and that was a good thing. Besides, those same memories of him would be with us wherever we went, so it was better to stay in the family home that we loved rather than to move, and try pretending that we didn’t truly miss him.

Now, two years later, I still miss him everyday, and although his loss still hurts, it’s been better with time. Besides, living in our family home has actually provided me with a sense of comfort. It’s reminded me of how much he loved his life with us. And it’s made me feel better to honor him by keeping some things the way he liked them: the garden was still filled with everything Dad had planted, the repainted garage was done in his favorite deep green color, and we continued keeping the wicker chairs out on our porch year-round because Mom and Dad had enjoyed sitting out there to get some fresh air while catching up on each other’s day. Aside from the good memories, the two-story house was pretty nice on its own. It had three bedrooms, a wide wraparound porch, and a yellow exterior with deep green shutters. It was not a bad place to grow up in at all.

Two thirty-five. Perfect timing. Mom was sitting on the porch with a couple of her friends, drinking lemonade and laughing. She always enjoyed Fridays. That was the one day when she actually allowed someone outside of the family to take over the store. Ever since I could remember, Connie Kontos, Mom’s old high school friend, would work Fridays, closing up the store by 7:00 p.m. This way, Mom reasoned, her day off would leave her fresh for her busiest day, which was Saturday, and she’d enjoy one evening on the weekend to get in some much needed girl time, as she liked to call it. Sometimes, it was just the two of us, maybe watching a movie or going out for ice cream, but at other times, she’d hang out with her friends.

On my way in, I pecked her on the cheek, engaged in small talk with her friends, then climbed upstairs to my bedroom, and shut my door.

Free to blog at last.

• • •

I STARED AT MY COMPUTER SCREEN, but I couldn’t make sense of anything. What was going on? This particular source (not my Uncle Jack this time) never got anything wrong. I searched the blogosphere for answers, but all I got was more of the same: contradiction upon contradiction. Were Rising Tide breaking up or not? I had said they were, so now I had a vested interest in being right. A good blogger usually was, and if they weren’t, then people would lose interest in their blog.

I continued my search. What was with all the mystery? And then an online post caught my eye. I couldn’t believe it. Not only were they NOT breaking up, they were also—

I have great news, Mom yelled up the stairs, interrupting my reading.

Just a second, please, I shouted back, my eyes frantically scanning my computer screen.

It couldn’t be true, yet there were too many Tweets to be ignored, all springing to life with new information, many saying the same thing. Rising Tide was going to be continuing to work on their album, but with a brand new, unnamed producer. Apparently, they were also going to be doing this in a quiet, serene location, far away from any distractions or excitement…

My dry throat tightened.

Mom came up the stairs. Kristen, are you listening?

I couldn’t even swallow. What was going on here?

Kristen?

I ran my trembling hands through my hair as I read more Tweets.

Hey, Mom said, gently knocking on my bedroom door.

Hey, I replied, unable to keep the trace of panic out of my voice.

Everything okay, honey? she asked, slowly opening my door.

Everything was very far from being okay, yet I glanced over at Mom, and forced a smile. Sure. I just have a lot of homework.

I won’t keep you, but I wanted to tell you something.

She didn’t have to say any more. I already knew, but I also knew that it would give her so much pleasure to break what she thought would be good news to me, but was actually anything but. Tell me what?

You’ll never guess who’s coming to town! she teased.

I didn’t have to, but I played along. No idea. Who?

She paused for effect, then blurted out, "The band you used to be obsessed with, you know, Rising Tide!"

I gave her my best fake-surprised look. I didn’t want her to have any indication that I was already in the loop. It made keeping a secret blog easier that way. Wow. Here?

Yes, here. Can you believe it?!

That’s very…surprising.

And exciting, Mom said, bobbing her head up and down, looking totally uncool. Don’t you think?

I shrugged dismissively. I’m not into them anymore.

Still, it’s not everyday that celebrities come to town. She smiled, obviously pleased with herself. See? Your mom’s not totally out of it. I heard the news before you did.

Thanks, Mom, I said, not having the heart to tell her otherwise. How did you hear about this anyway?

I heard it from Linda, who’d heard it from Miss Maple over at the inn. She booked their rooms. They’re arriving tomorrow morning.

My heart raced, which surprised me. Already?

It’s catching us all by surprise.

Tell me about it, I thought. So, they’re here to see Uncle Jack, right?

I doubt it. He hasn’t said anything about it, and if they were, then I’m sure he would have mentioned it to us.

Yeah, I guess. Unless he’d caught onto my using him as a source. That might explain why we hadn’t heard anything about it from him.

But if they weren’t coming here to work with Uncle Jack, then what else could they possibly want with the most boring town on earth?

They couldn’t know or even care about my blog, could they? At the very least, they couldn’t know that my blog was coming from Spencerville. Or could they?

Was I in trouble? Was that why the band had decided to come to Spencerville, Minnesota, of all places?

Besides, who cares why? What’s important is that they’re coming! A little excitement never hurt anyone, right? But let’s hope they don’t cause too much trouble, Mom said, unable to resist adding, They are musicians, after all, so trouble follows them.

I nodded and smiled weakly, trying to appear nonchalant, but I was feeling anything but. She gave me the most uncool thumbs up signal before turning to go.

Could they have found me out? Did they know that I was Stargazer from Stargazing from Nowhere? I was their most severe critic, so naturally that would make me their most hated blogger, so if they found out where I was, or who I was, that would be very bad for me.

Because I had obviously been wrong on my blog about Rising Tide breaking up, I wanted to wait until I had further information before jumping back online again with another post. Although I wasn’t proud to have made a mistake, there were other things I needed to focus on now that didn’t include berating myself for having made an honest error. I did need to expand my network of reliable sources, but even the best ones made mistakes sometimes, and I didn’t see how I could be doing any better considering my current location and situation.

Was Uncle Jack hiding something from me? It wasn’t his style to be sneaky. That was more Mom’s style, so probably not. I started to feel a little sick to my stomach. If Uncle Jack ever found out that I had been secretly using him as a major source, and leaking the information I’d received from him on my blog for the whole world to see, I would be in seriously deep trouble. If he ever found out that I had spilled the beans on what he and his friends had said to me or within earshot of me, he’d kill me. If I was lucky, he would kill me before Mom found out about anything. Otherwise, I would be tortured for the rest of my life, right after she’d force me to shut down my blog, and probably my Twitter account too. Mom thought the internet was filled with all kinds of awful people, but I thought differently. I looked at interactions online as being somewhat the same as they were in real life: a world filled with good and bad, and you just needed to use caution when dealing with anyone online, the same as you would in real life.

Yet, if Mom and Uncle Jack ever found out about my online identity, I couldn’t really blame them if they were to get upset. After all, with me, what you saw wasn’t necessarily what you got. If the truth were to be revealed, it would be ugly, so I was saving us all from a terrible, terrible confrontation.

At that moment, I had to force myself not to feel bad about that. I mean if people couldn’t see beyond the plain, shy, responsible, and obedient girl that I seemed to be (and usually was), then that was their problem. But it was beginning to look like it might be becoming my problem too. Now that the band was coming to town, keeping my two identities separate might prove to be a little bit challenging because of the secrecy involved, and the fact that Uncle Jack was an important source. He didn’t personally know Rising Tide, but he had on occasion said a thing or two about them, and about their producers whom he did know, which of course, I had blogged about. I had never been this close to trouble before, so I wasn’t too sure how best to deal with it.

I paced back and forth, searching for a reasonable explanation as to why the band would be heading to my hometown. Of course they must have heard of Uncle Jack, a.k.a. Jack Hughes, music producer extraordinaire, but he was pretty much retired these days. Yet, there was nothing around here that related to music on any level except for him, and even he hadn’t produced a hit nor tried to in over four years, and of course there was my blog, where Rising Tide was a central topic.

I had to get to the bottom of this. If they weren’t here for Uncle Jack, then why? For them to be heading here without my knowing ahead of time meant one of either two terrible things: one of my sources had turned on me (knowingly or unknowingly—both unacceptable) or Rising Tide was onto me (wholeheartedly terrible and terrifying—also unacceptable). Did they already know who I was? Was their main purpose in coming here to torture me, and to pay me back for all the nasty things I had said about them? Or had I just watched too many spy movies lately? Whatever the reason, it was hardly great news.

Part of my growing popularity and success online were due to how edgy and honest I could be. Because I was anonymous, I found tremendous freedom in feeling that I didn’t have to answer to anybody, which I had fully taken advantage of. It was the only place in my life where I could be totally uncensored. But now things were shifting, and I felt the tremors of an earthquake heading my way. I wasn’t ready to stop blogging, nor was I ready to let anyone aside from my best friend, Maggie Reynolds, who I had already told, know that I was the one doing the stargazing from the middle of nowhere. Since we were very close, trusting each other with everything, I had confided only in her about my blog, because I was certain beyond any doubt that my secret identity as Stargazer was safe with her. Up until now, it had seemed as if nowhere, a.k.a. Spencerville, was a safe distance from any real action, but now I felt that this was about to change, and it was unsettling.

But maybe I wasn’t in trouble after all. Famous people are too busy to torture you face to face; they send lawyers and papers and things. Don’t they? Maybe Rising Tide wasn’t even staying here, but were simply passing through on their way to someplace more exciting, while generating a lot of hype, and some much needed publicity along the way. Besides, I was far from being the only online person who disliked them. There was still a possibility that they might not even know that Stargazing from Nowhere even existed, and even less of a possibility that they knew where I lived because I had been pretty careful about protecting my identity. Not only did I want to remain anonymous, I needed to. I had done everything I could to ensure this, never mentioning where I lived or anything else about me, including my gender, age, etc. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had covered my tracks, so I really needed to stop overthinking and overreacting.

Now that they were coming to town, I figured I had three options: first, lying low and laying off reporting on the band; second, continuing the blog as I had been, but pretending that the band wasn’t in my own backyard; third, doing the one thing that scared me the most because it meant I would have to challenge myself, and use the hometown advantage of having better access to the band, and to the people around them, allowing me to get an accurate depiction of a band struggling against the inevitable tide of failure.

If I went with the last option, I would be like a real reporter. I’d gain credibility, a wider audience, and viable experience for admission to a good college (I wasn’t planning on being anonymous forever). Hopefully, I’d also add to the money I’d already been saving thanks to the earnings I’d made through online advertising. This would all go towards my tuition and living expenses when I finally left this place.

Since I desperately wanted to leave Spencerville one day, the choice was obvious. I determined to go with option three: I was going to go undercover and find a way to get close to the band and report everything back on my blog.

I reasoned that even Anderson Cooper must have started somewhere humble, even if he was a Vanderbilt. Anonymity had its benefits; having your identity mercilessly exposed would eliminate every single one, so I would have to be smart about this.

Mom came back up, and as usual, knocked on the open door, and entered without waiting for a reply. I can’t believe that you’re still holed up in here.

I was relieved when I saw Maggie emerge from behind her.

Yeah, it’s a beautiful day out, Maggie said, and winked, while going over to plop herself on my bean bag chair, her favorite spot in my room.

Just doing some school work, I said, trying to sound as if everything were normal.

In that case, don’t socialize for too long, Mom said. "Even though I’m sure you have plenty to talk about in regards to Rising Tide’s visit."

I shrugged.

Oh come on, I know you’re excited. Heck, I’m even a little excited. Nothing like that ever happens around here, she said, rummaging through the pile of rolled up posters on my bookcase, left over from the days when I had been a Rising Tide fan.

Kristen, who’s your favorite, again?

Michael Stevens, Maggie answered too quickly.

He is not, I said. I don’t have a favorite.

Mom smiled, not believing me. What had gotten into her? Was she getting to be a little star crazy?

What about you, Maggie? she asked, playfully.

None. I prefer regular guys.

That’s good. At least you two won’t fight over the same guy, she said, rolling open a poster. Now, which one is Michael?

The drummer, Maggie said.

Mom’s eyes narrowed in on his picture. Hmm. He is cute for you. Good taste, Kristen.

I so do not like him, I said, quietly adding, Anymore.

Maggie and Mom