She shot me an icy glare. “Are you implying he was crying because I was just sitting on his lap? You think I hurt him? You think I’m fat?”
Her appearance was one of Apple’s main hang-ups. Fat was what she saw in the mirror every day and the conclusion she always jumped to when things didn’t go right in her life. And, I’m certain, it was also the reason she chose Rupert P.—out of all the Ruperts—to love the most. I have this theory that choosing which boy to love in a boy band says a lot about a person. I think Erin loved Rupert X. because she believed she was hot enough to love such an attractive person. I think Isabel loved Rupert L. because she felt she was tough enough to love someone with muscles so big. I think I loved Rupert K., deep down, because he was the most approachable one in the bunch. And I think Apple loved Rupert P. because she couldn’t even envision herself being loved by one of the cute boys. She loved him because he was the only one who she thought could possibly love her back.
I think that boy bands don’t worry about having a snaggletooth of an ugly member in their otherwise perfect row of teeth—boys—because they know that there are girls like Apple out there. Girls who really don’t like themselves enough to aim higher.
Honestly, if I thought about it too much, it broke my heart.
But it was just a theory I had.
“No, Apple, I’m not saying you’re fat. I’m implying he was crying because he’s being kidnapped.”
“We’re not kidnapping him,” Apple insisted.
I waited for her to explain just what exactly we were doing, but she didn’t add anything more.
“Did any of you see any of Rupert L.’s tweets recently?” Isabel said. She didn’t wait for us to answer and proceeded to read off her phone: “To the girls outside of the hotel please be careful. It is not safe to stand beneath the scaffolding by the entrance.”
Isabel read it nicely enough, but I still imagined his tweet with all the spelling errors and grammar mistakes it probably contained.
“This is from half an hour later: We’ve just been informed cops are having trouble with crowd control outside of the hotel. Be safe.”
The four of us stared at one another for a moment, then ran to the windows at the same time. There were two windows in the room, and Erin and I took one while Isabel and Apple took the other. The wind was too loud when we opened the windows, but even so, I could hear all of our gasps. The crowd outside was even bigger than it was when we came in only an hour ago. Girls flooded the cobblestone streets. There were even girls across the street, as if they’d even be able to see the boys from there. It didn’t seem right, this many people on what was heretofore a quiet city block. It was like they were stretching the narrow street, forcing small SoHo to conform to their overindulgent size. I could make out a few figures in dark blue, officers making sure there was a walkway and that cars could pass, but there weren’t enough to come between a stampede of teen girls and their favorite boys.
“That isn’t safe,” Isabel said. “It won’t end well.”
A normal person would’ve maybe been concerned while saying those things, and they certainly wouldn’t have a demented smile on their face, but then this was Isabel we were talking about. “Best,” she whispered.
I tried to pretend she didn’t just secretly wish for a full-on Strepur revolt.
Erin stepped back from the window. “Isabel, what else is Twitter saying?” she asked.
Isabel turned away from the window too, her phone her main focus once again. “The Strepurs outside say they haven’t seen any of the boys yet, but supposedly Rupert K. left really early in the morning and he’s not back yet.”
Classic. The only reason I was here was to see Rupert K. and he wasn’t even in the hotel.
“We have to find out where their room is before they all head out,” Erin said. “Hey, Rupert, what room are the rest of the boys staying in?”
He shook his head. Obviously, with the tights in his mouth he couldn’t answer, but it was clear that he also wouldn’t answer.
“I’m not sure if you realize this, but you’re the one who’s tied up,” Erin said. “You’re at our mercy.”
He stayed silent for a minute but then nodded his head. Erin pulled the tights off his mouth so they were ringed around his neck but left the blindfold on. “I’m not telling you anything until you untie me. Bitch.”
“We’re not untying you until you tell us something.”
“Guess it’s a Mexican standoff, then, innit?”