“That Rupert P. quit the band?” Erin said. I had to stop jumping to the dead thing so quickly. “How is he doing?”
I couldn’t believe she’d asked that, but I knew what Erin was trying to do. Just like the last time we’d spoken to Michelle Hornsbury, Erin was gauging the situation, seeing where Michelle Hornsbury fell into the grand scheme of things. Trying to catch her in a lie.
“Girls, I have something to confess.”
That she was Rupert P.’s knowing beard? That the rumors were true—she really did use cotton candy and the tears of Rupert P. fans as perfume? Both of us leaned forward.
“The truth is, I don’t know how Rupie is doing,” Michelle Hornsbury said. “He hasn’t called me, and I haven’t been able to reach him on his mobile. I can’t find him anywhere.”
Honesty. It was refreshing.
“It’s so unlike him,” Michelle Hornsbury said, laughing, obviously trying to pass the whole my-boyfriend-is-ignoring-me thing off as a funny anecdote. He’s not ignoring you, Michelle Hornsbury. Rupie’s dead. Sorry.
“I’m beginning to get a little bit worried, actually,” she said. “But I’m sure he’s just clearing his head at the moment and needs some space.”
“Right,” Erin said.
“Totally,” I said.
“The thing is—and this is why I’m so glad I ran into you both—I’m going to need a place to stay. I was wondering if you two wouldn’t mind helping a fellow Strepur girl out?”
I was confused. Michelle Hornsbury had just referred to herself as a Strepur. “Don’t you have a room already?”
“I did,” Michelle said. She nodded vehemently, like the more she did it the more we’d believe her or something. “I had a room with Rupie, of course.” A lie. Rupert P. was staying at the boys’ suite when he wasn’t staying in Griffin’s room. “But you see, he’s run off and taken the room key.”
“Can’t you just get another one from the front desk?” Erin asked.
She and I knew that she couldn’t. They didn’t give you keys for imaginary rooms. But for some reason we still wanted to catch her in the lie. Clearly, Rupert P. hadn’t planned on spending any time with Michelle Hornsbury on this trip. It now made sense why she’d been hanging out in the bar earlier. Was that her shtick? Make an appearance for the cameras walking in and out of various hotels all over the world, holding Rupert P.’s hand for all to see, but then what? Did she just sneak away in the middle of the night when no one was outside? Damn, Rupert P. couldn’t even get his fake girlfriend her own hotel room? That was low, even for Rupert P. Mayherestinpeace.
Michelle smiled brightly and blinked. “You know, I tried that, but since the reservation was made under Rupert’s name, they can’t give a key to anyone but him. You know how it is, with crazy fangirls running amok. No offense, of course.”
It seemed like she was waiting for a “none taken,” but none came.
“So, what do you say?” Michelle Hornsbury went on. “Will you help a girl out? We can make a slumber party out of it! Oooh, I could tell you loads of stories about the boys. Things you’ve all surely been absolutely dying to know.” She leaned forward, raised her eyebrows, and whispered, “Penis sizes?” She said it conspiratorially, like she was selling fake Louis Vuitton purses on a Chinatown street corner and was hoping we’d be in the market for them. Penis sizes, anyone?
“Michelle,” I began, “we’ve got a pretty small room and two other friends staying there with us—”
“No problem at all!” Michelle Hornsbury said. She pressed her palms flat against her tummy and said, “I’m so small I could easily squeeze between two people on a bed. Blessing and a curse, really.”
“Uh, can’t you stay with the boys?”
She cleared her throat. “The boys and I don’t really … We’ve all mutually agreed we prefer to spend time apart from each other whenever we can, you know, because we spend so much of it together as it is.”
“Huh?”
“How can I put this in terms you might understand?” she said. “I love those boys like brothers whom I hate.”
“Uh, look, Michelle—”
“Please,” she said. The smile was still there, but her eyes were dimming. “This will probably sound absolutely absurd, and it’s truly rather embarrassing, but you must believe me when I tell you that I’ve got no money, no friends here, and nowhere to go.”
Erin and I looked at each other. I wish I knew what she was thinking, that we could communicate telepathically like twins or preternaturally close best friends, but I had no idea what she thought. All I knew was we had to get rid of Michelle Hornsbury.
“Okay,” Erin said.
Are you fucking kidding me?
“Splendid!” Michelle Hornsbury said.
“Erin, we should talk about this,” I said through gritted teeth. “Make the decision as a group.”