Follow Me Back (complete first draft of the published book)

Chapter 38: Not Fangirling

Chapter 38: Not Fangirling

Eric raised a hand to his cheek, stung more from the shock than from the pain of the blow.

"Tessa, what the hell?"

But Tessa wasn't looking at him anymore. She cast her eyes wildly about the room, searching for answers to the questions rushing through her head. Did he really mean it? Was he telling her the truth? Had it all just been a big game, all this time? She hadn't been talking to a real guy, after all? A guy who wanted to be with her? Just a pop star who liked to amuse himself by playing tricks on unsuspecting fans?

"So that's all this was, then," she said at last. "Just some kind of ego boost for you."

"No!" Eric's irrepressible smile was wiped away now, a distant memory, at the bitterness he heard in her voice.

"That's nice, Eric. That's really great. Glad I could be of service. How many other fan girls do you have this going on with?"

"No, no, no!" he protested. "It wasn't like that. Not at all!"

She didn't answer. She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands.

"Tessa, listen to me." Eric let go of his own cheek and touched her lightly on the shoulder, but she remained slumped over the interrogation table beside him.

Her reply came out low and muffled. He had to strain to understand. "Go away," she moaned into her hands.

"What?" he answered. "No. Wait. Tessa, let me explain. Listen. I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have laughed before. Tessa. . . ."

Eric's voice trailed off. She didn't seem to be registering a word he said. Her forehead remained resting on her arms on the surface of the table. He could see her shoulders trembling, but she didn't make a sound. Shivering? From the cold? Some kind of trauma reaction? Had the shock of seeing him just pushed her over the edge?

"Tessa," he tried again. "Talk to me. You're scaring me. Are you OK?"

He could hear her mumbling into her arms again, and he bent closer to make out what she said. Her words didn't seem to be addressed to him, or to anyone in particular.

"I want the real Taylor. Where's the real Taylor?" Her shoulders began to shake even harder. "There was supposed to be a real Taylor!"

"I'm here!" he exclaimed. "Listen to me. I'm right here!"

"There was supposed to be a real Taylor!" she kept repeating. "They told me. They said so. They said there was a real Taylor."

Eric put a tentative arm around both of her shoulders. He tried to pull her toward him, but Tessa turned in her chair and pushed violently against his chest. "Don't touch me!"

"Sorry!" He let go and held up his hands. "I'm sorry. Are you OK? Should I get someone?"

She looked back at him at last, with eyes so full of disappointment, it made him want to crawl inside a deep, dark hole. "There's no real Taylor, is there?" she whispered.

"Tessa," he said softly. "I should have told you sooner. I just-I wanted to tell you face-to-face. That's all. That's why I'm here. I scheduled this whole extra show just to come here and meet you." He scooted out of his chair and squatted down beside her, forcing her to maintain eye contact when she tried to look away. "It's me," he said. "I'm real. I'm the real Taylor. Tessa, you've been talking to me for months."

"It was all just a big lie?"

"No!"

"Oh God," she said, not even trying to hide her heartbreak. "Oh God, you can't be serious."