"So I'm forbidden to even think about dating him?"

"No. You're required to use your own judgment."

"But I have historically bad judgment."

"Not as of the last year."

"Come on. That's nothing. That's...you can't just hold that against me."

"I'm sorry. Your father's decision's final and I support him in it. We will trust you, we will let you take this job after we look into it a little, and you will have to decide for yourself if you want to tour Europe with the hot boy band." She holds up her hands as if to say this is not her problem.

"This is so not fair."

"This is life, sweetie. Deal with it."

I GO to bed that night undecided and wake up the next morning to my phone ringing. "h.e.l.lo?" I answer, my voice a croak.

"Kyra?" A voice I'd know anywhere.

"Zach?" Great. He's heard me first thing in the morning.

"Listen, I've got a stopover in Albuquerque later on today."

"Oh... uh-huh?" My insides quake. I definitely won't be going back to sleep now. The prospect of Zach within ten miles of me is enough to give me a good jolt of adrenalin.

"You want to go grab coffee or something?"

No. I don't. I want him to decide he hates me already and leave me alone. And one picture of us together would give the media a field day. "Um..."

"Or just, I don't know..."

"Well, uh, I mean..." I'm so articulate at this hour.

"I'd like to see you," he says. "Please. I want to talk to you about Aidan's job offer."

"Should I not take it?"

"I want to talk about it, and not over the phone."

Why not? I think. He and I text each other fifty times a day. I roll onto my back. "Yeah," I say, "we can talk. I just really don't want there to be any pictures of me in the media."

"Okay. I land at ten. You want to meet somewhere?"

"I'll come pick you up." Because that's my life apparently. I do this kind of stuff.

I DRINK my coffee, brush my teeth, spend over an hour on my makeup, and dash out the door, but not before telling Jen I'm going to go meet "a friend," which is as good as lying. I note this about myself. The road back to the person I was begins with a single step. Was that it? Not telling the whole truth to Jen?

Yeah, I'm having major issues right now.

I drive Libby to the airport and hope and pray no paparazzi have followed Zach here. I know the way to the private terminal thanks to the few rare occasions I travelled with Jason, so I show up just after ten, feeling like a wreck. All that time I spent painstakingly applying eyeliner has left me looking like a racc.o.o.n, I just know it. And I'm sure my hair has frizzed out in every direction. The private terminal is a boxy, utilitarian building situated with the hangars at the far end of the runway, and there's not much of a parking lot; I pull up to the curb.

Through a gap in the buildings I see a jet taxi past and I feel like I'm going to throw up or faint-or both. I wonder if I should get out of my car and go into the terminal or what. I don't want anyone who works at the airport to see me with Zach. With my luck, it'll be one of my high school cla.s.smates or something. Then again, it seems way rude to just text Zach to come on out to my car. Talk about presumptuous.

Zach... I'm about to see Zach again. The whole world does a definite tilt to the left, and I rest my forehead on my steering wheel. I can't do this.

Kyra: I'm in my car. Red Jeep Liberty. Should I go into the terminal?

The reply is immediate.

Zach: I'll come find you.

Okay, so it isn't presumptuous if it is his idea, right? The terminal door opens and a blond man steps out. I want to hide under the dashboard. That was fast. Did he get off the plane and run or something? And if so, why? What would that mean?

The closer he gets, the more undeniably Zach Wechsler he becomes. I am definitely going to puke.

He glances to the left and right before grasping the pa.s.senger side door handle only to find it locked.

Smooth, Kyra.

He smiles at me as I unlock it, and then the door pops open and I have Zach Wechsler in my car. "Hey," he says like this is normal. "Sorry to just show up like this. Did I disrupt your day at all?"

How is this a serious question? Those gray blue eyes are as intense as ever, and his hair may not have been styled today, but he still looks every inch the rock star.

"I mean..." He looks me in the eye. "Did you have work or anything?"

"Oh... no. Nothing like that, no. So, um...hi." I really miss my brain. I'm sure it's lying around here somewhere.

"Hi." He tugs the seatbelt loose and pulls it across his chest.

Which I guess means we're going somewhere. Don't ask me where. Just keeping the car between the lines on the road is going to be a challenge. I start the engine and drive out of the airport complex. The day has gone from confused to surreal. It's as if I'm dreaming now; reality is fuzzy.

IT'S A hot day so Libby's air conditioner is blasting and the sun beats down on us through the windshield.

"Okay," says Zach. "So I know Aidan offered you a job."

"Do you not want me to take it?"

"I want to talk to you about that."

The world grays out a little more so I'm relieved when we reach a stoplight. "Okay."

"Kyra, you're the best friend I've ever had."

No, I think. I'm not your friend. Friends don't think the kind of raunchy thoughts I think about you. I feel like I'm going to pa.s.s out. The light turns green and I accelerate with more force than necessary before I turn down a side street and pull over in front of a row of houses with leafy trees in their front yards. It's very idyllic and suburban. I shift into park, take my foot off the brake, and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. "Um... I..."

"I know we only just met, but you've really helped me deal with...everything. I don't know how I'd have gotten through the last few weeks without you."

I lift my head and look at him. He's got one elbow propped against the door and the other braced against the back of his seat. Just like when we were at dinner together, he gives me both s.p.a.ce and his full attention. That hyper-confidence of his, the way he looks me straight in the eye, is terrifying in a situation like this.

I have no idea what to say.

"Kyra, listen. I know it's selfish, but I really want you to come on tour with us. Europe with the way things are between me and Ben and Logan right now, and the whole stress of the concert movie. I need someone I can trust."

My mouth is dry and my tongue feels like it has the flexibility and mobility of a brick.

"If you come on tour with us," he goes on, "I might actually look forward to it. Lately I've been dreading every concert, and...yeah...I dunno." He shakes his head.

I lick my lips and look down at my hands, which grip the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles are white. It hurts to relax them, but I do. I pry my hands loose and push my hair back from my forehead. Say something, I scold myself. I swallow hard then force the words out. "Sorry. This whole job offer and getting to know you, it's all kinda sudden."

His expression relaxes into a smile. "Yeah, but in a good way, right? I feel like I can talk to you about anything."

Except how I really feel about you. One hint of that and he'd run for the hills.

Which is what I want, isn't it? It'd end this torture. I am so confused right now. Focus, I think.

I shut my eyes and command my head to stop spinning. Jen's comments about me having to be a responsible adult come to mind. I know what the right thing to do is. "I...don't know if I can take the job."

His face falls. "Oh...okay. You have a summer job?"

I muster every shred of acting talent I have and paste a smile on my face. "Yeah, and I'm not sure if I can get out of it." Total lie. My summer job is covering shifts at Jen's restaurant, and she already said I was off the hook.

I expect Zach to be let down a little, but I don't expect the sudden look of despair in his gaze. "Okay...well..."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. Here I am begging you."

He's begging me?

"You don't deserve to have me dump all of my problems on you anyway." He leans back and shuts his eyes. From the set of his shoulders and jaw, it's quite obvious he hasn't dumped his problems anywhere. They ride squarely on his shoulders.

And as awful as it is to be this close to him, fully clothed, with no chance of any action, I feel bad for him. "Let's go get coffee," I say. "We can talk and stuff."

"I don't want to impose-"

"It's all good," I say with false conviction.

But when I see his shoulders relax and the light return to his eyes, I melt inside. I put Libby into gear and do a U-turn.

"There a Starbucks or somewhere we can drive through?"

I snort. "I'm thinking real coffee, so that would be Napoli. They don't have a drive-through. I'll go in and get our order."

"What's Napoli?"

"The best coffee shop in Albuquerque."

TWENTY MINUTES later, as we enjoy our lattes in Libby, parked in a discreet corner of the parking lot, Zach has to agree. "This place is awesome."

I nod. "And the people there are cool. If you walked in there, they'd be chill about it. They mock Jason to his face and write 'Gladius' on his cup." That was the name of his character in the cheesy New Light series of movies.

Zach gives me another winning smile that is downright painful to see. My heart gives a lurch. "Thank you," he says. "It's been a rough day. This is exactly what I needed."

"What's been happening?"

"Ben wants to s.e.x up our image. Logan wants to cancel the European leg of our tour. All we do these days is fight. At least when my mom was in charge, we had a common enemy. Okay, I shouldn't say that about my own mother."

I shrug.

"But back then we could all talk about how much we hated everything about the band and stuff, but it was just talk. I was bluffing. Turns out Logan and Ben weren't."

"It's hard enough to transition on your own out of child stardom," I say. "I imagine it's even harder to do with two other people."

He nods. "See, you get it."

"Intellectually," I say. "Not really. Never been famous."

He glances at his watch.

"You need to go?"

"Unfortunately. Got a photo shoot in LA."

I turn the key in the ignition.

"I probably won't see you again before Europe," he says.

I say a silent prayer of thanks for that.

"But I'll still text, and you can call me anytime, all right?"

"Sure," I say, with false brightness.

"I hope whoever Aidan gets for an intern is cool."

Those words. .h.i.t like a sledgehammer to the chest, and the green-eyed monster rears its ugly head. I feel like the Hulk, about to lose it. "Right," I choke out.

But Zach doesn't notice. He's in a much better mood than when he arrived, and when I drop him off at the airport, he leans over to give me a hug. A hug. He presses that perfect body of his to mine. It doesn't matter that only our arms, chests, and shoulders touch. It's enough to make me want to rip all of his clothes off right then and there. But he grins at me, oblivious, and gets out of the car.

Finally, I tell myself. I'm glad that's all over.

"h.e.l.lO?" AIDAN answers his phone that evening.

"Yeah, hi. It's Kyra."

"h.e.l.lo, Kyra! Do you have an answer for me?"

"Yeah."