Keeping Secrets

After

PEYTON

In hindsight, I should've worried about that picture of me and Beau, because it got a lot more attention than I ever thought it would. And I had been worried about it initially, but Mandi told me it wasn't that big of a deal, and talked me down like usual.

"People forget, Peyton," she'd said. "And I bet most of the people you know were drunk last night. They might not even have seen the picture."

I'd wanted to believe she was right, but she wasn't. A lot of people had seen that photo. Even Amanda, who was usually pretty dismissive of this kind of thing, was more sympathetic after it blew up.

The gossiping started shortly after the photo was posted, but it didn't get bad until later that afternoon, when we were already back home. The first person to reach out to me directly was a girl me and Amanda had known since grade school. Her text said, "OMG! U and Beau???" And then the messages just continued from there.

I heard from people I hadn't talked to since high school, people who hadn't bothered to reach out since graduation, and even a few girls from the grade above me who'd barely acknowledged me back then. But now, thanks to that one picture from New Year's Eve, everyone wanted to "check in" and see "how I was doing."

Yeah right. Because it had nothing to do with the famous rock star next to me in that picture.

"I know, P," Amanda said when I complained. She understood what it was like to be associated with a famous musician and all the unwanted attention that came with it.

A couple of girls from my dorm texted me as well, but they wanted the actual story, not truly believing what the media put out there. That made me feel a bit better, even if I wasn't willing to share the full truth with them. And, honestly, it wasn't like the media was completely wrong...

Lin and Becca set up a group call and hounded me for over an hour, desperate for all the details. I shared a few things with them—like the fact that I knew the Trudge Lite members and that Justin was Amanda's cousin. I even sent them a picture of all of us from the fall concert.

"What the hell?" Becca groaned. "How could you keep that from us all this time?"

"We had a game during the concert," Lin said, coming to my defense.

"True, but still. Freaking Trudge Lite!" Becca complained."That's insane!"

"I think it's very cool," Lin agreed.

"Yeah..." I knew it was, which was exactly why I'd kept my mouth shut.

"We'll see them next time, Bec," Lin suggested, once again calming Becca down a notch.

"For sure." Becca agreed. "And Peyton, you better tell us the next time you're going so we can come along," she demanded, and I promised I would.

Then she asked, "What does Max say about everything?"

And that was a very good question.

I rolled over on the bed, groaned and buried my head into the pillow.

"What?" Becca laughed.

"I haven't told him yet, but I will," I admitted.

"Oh, man," Becca sighed and Lin giggled. "You didn't tell him yet? And he hasn't called you?"

Freaking Becca.

"He has... I just haven't had time to respond yet."

"Sure," she said, rolling her eyes at me. "I can't wait to hear all about that call."

Of course she couldn't.

The last thing I heard before I hung up was her laugh.

My parents, however, were not impressed about seeing my picture in the news. My mom had a bit of a meltdown, and she didn't even know the whole truth. I couldn't imagine what she'd do if she knew what had actually happened between me and Beau after that picture was taken.

As for my dad, he sat me down for a long lecture about the dangers of "dating rock stars"—like he had any idea what that was like. And it wasn't like we were dating...

When I finally texted Max back, he asked about the picture too, although he was just curious and not judgmental like some of the others had been. Given our whole "fake relationship" situation, I understood why he'd want to know where we stood. The problem was, I didn't exactly know what to say.

My response to everyone had been that Beau and I were friends, because in reality that was truly all we were, even if part of me wanted more. I just had a very difficult time convincing myself of that. Amanda was the only one who knew the truth about what had really happened on New Year's Eve. Except for me and Beau, of course.

A few gossip sites had also posted about the photo, and there was an interview with Beau where he got asked who the "New Year's Eve girl" was. His only response was, "a friend." With a shoulder shrug and cocky smile, he was so convincing it hurt my feelings at first, until I realized he was using the same excuse I was.

And in reality, that was all we were. Friends.

It had been one amazing night—one I'd gladly repeat if I got the chance—but I wasn't under some illusion that we were dating or something like that. Whether I wanted to, well, that was a whole different story.

Amanda kept giving me gave me sympathetic looks, and I knew she thought we were in the same situation—that we'd both had a one-night stand with a famous musician. But there was one big difference between me and Beau, and her and Dane. Beau stayed in touch.

The band was recording in LA, and from what I'd heard, they barely had time for anything besides playing in the studio and crashing. Every minute they could spare went into recording. So when I heard from him, it felt special—and even more so when he called me "babe" or "beautiful" and told me he missed me.

I missed him, too. Especially at night, when the house was quiet. And it was those little things that made me wonder if there was a possibility of it becoming something more between us.

And then I wondered if I was being stupid.

For once, I didn't mind that I had to help my mom around the house. I didn't really want to face all the people around town and answer questions that were nobody else's business but my own. A couple of quick trips to the grocery store was all I managed. But hanging around the house with my mom got old too, and I couldn't wait to get back to school.

At dinner time we were back to listening to my dad re-telling us every second of every game Eli had ever played, while also lecturing me on the importance of self respect. What he meant was that he didn't approve of the "groupie lifestyle" he imagined I was living. He had no idea what my life was really like, but there was no use to get into with him. And it wasn't like I was going to tell him the truth, anyway.

I was counting down the days till I'd see Lynn, Becca, and Max again.