“I’ve got none of these problems,” Paul said, talking around a toothpick. “You pretty boys deserve every piece of shit you go through.”
Dylan punched him on the arm, and Paul pretended to fall back. “Police, police,” he called out weakly. “I’m gonna sue!”
Dylan huffed out a rueful laugh. “I think half my money goes to lawyers.”
“But you can still eat at normal places like this?” I asked. I was sort of surprised that only those girls had noticed him. One of his songs was in the Top 40 right now.
“Sure,” he said. “It’s funny how many people really don’t pay attention, or don’t believe it’s me. Generally I’m golden until somebody gets crazy. Then everybody else figures they’ve got to get in on it.”
I thought about Jenny and that kiss she’d given me. Obviously it was staged. I didn’t know why she went through with the rest of it, the beach and all. Hell, maybe I was in a porn movie now and didn’t even know it.
But that was the anger talking. Jenny wasn’t that sort of girl. I could tell that. And we’d had an honest-to-God connection out there. Maybe she regretted the pictures. Who knows? It wasn’t like I’d ever see her again.
“He’s mooning over the pink dreads girl again,” Paul said.
My head snapped up. Dylan and Paul were watching me, amused.
“He’s a goner,” Dylan said. “I know that look.”
“Ain’t nobody gonna tie down this hunk of man-meat,” Paul said. He lifted his rail-thin arms and pretended to flex his muscles.
“There’s girls who are into guys like you,” Dylan said.
“Pass them over,” Paul said. “Cuz all I know is that when Tennessee got up onstage, I was a stinking pile of dog shit.”
“But you guys got the gig in the first place,” I said. “I’ve never played for more than twenty people at a time before.”
“Dylan here got the gig,” Paul said. “He’s nice to the little people.”
“We’re all little people,” Dylan said, picking up his coffee. “Just some people don’t know it.”
My phone buzzed in my jeans, startling me. It had been months since I had used it. After I refused to answer or respond to anybody back home the first few weeks, interest in what had happened to me tapered off. My mom tried every now and again, but eventually I blocked her. Pretty much the only person I’d even pay attention to was Charlie, and her only because she worked at the care center where my sister was.
I tugged the phone out and glanced down to make sure the message wasn’t anything about her. The number was unfamiliar. Probably random. I was about to tuck it away again when a text came through. The first few words showed in the preview pane, and when I saw “naked,” I clicked through in a hurry.
What were you doing naked on that California beach?
“Shit,” I mumbled.
“What’s gettin’ you, Tennessee?” Paul asked.
“Why does anybody know I was naked on a beach last night?”
“You were what?” Paul exclaimed.
Dylan leaned forward. “Did a photographer follow you from that party?”
“I don’t know,” I said. Surely Jenny hadn’t sold the story somewhere.
Or maybe I was starring in a porn movie.
“Wait,” Paul said. He shook his hands next to his head. “Let me get this straight. You took off with pink dreadlocks and went streaking on the beach?”
“Among other things,” I mumbled, wondering now what all was out there.
“Who was this girl exactly?” Dylan asked.
I set down the phone, trying to cool my jets. My head felt about ready to pop off from anger. “I just met her at the party. She said the movie director guy was her boss. She felt out of place.”
“And you nailed her on the beach?” Paul’s face was full of shock.
“Did she act strange in any way?” Dylan asked.
“She kissed me unexpectedly at the party,” I said. “Some photographer took a picture.”
“Then she took you to the beach?” Dylan’s face was etched with concern.
“Yeah. But that was my idea. Not hers.” I pictured her again, curled up against me between the rocks.
Dylan slid his phone closer to his plate and began tapping. I stared out the window at the broken asphalt of the parking lot. People walked by, going about their day. I wanted to be one of them now, not having unknown numbers telling me my own private business.
“Well, you’ve hit the big time,” Dylan said. “I searched the news for ‘naked beach musician’ and I’m getting a lot of uploads of a segment from an entertainment news show. There’s footage of you and a girl skinny-dipping.”
“No shit,” Paul said, grabbing the phone. “My country boy here is in a real live LA scandal on his first day?”
He angled the phone so we could all see it. I didn’t really want to look. But seeing Jenny’s bare backside made me lean in to the phone.
“A whole segment,” Paul said. “Who’da thunk it?”