Текст книги "Breaking Stars"
Автор книги: J. Sterling
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BREAKING STARS
by
J. Sterling
Breaking Stars
Copyright © 2015 by J. Sterling
All Rights Reserved
Edited by:
Pam Berehulke
www.BulletproofEditing.com
www.facebook.com/BulletproofEditing
Cover Design by:
Michelle Preast
www.MichellePreast.com
www.facebook.com/IndieBookCovers
Smashwords, License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return online and purchase your own copy. Please do not participate or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-1494467524
ISBN-10: 1494467526
This book is also available in print.
Please visit the author’s website
www.j-sterling.com
to find out where it may be purchased.
Table of Contents
Dedication
The Cheating Scandal
Thank God for Best Friends
Meeting of the Minds
Running Away
Is It Hot Out Here?
Meeting Mama
I’m Such a Dick
Reaching Out
She’s No Princess
Can’t Do Anything Right
No Rush to Leave
Swimming Hole
Field Parties Are a Bad Idea
Partying in the South
Ex-Girlfriends
A One-Bar Town
The Kiss That Erases All Others
I Feel Red
Reliving Old Memories
A New Kind of Trust
College Applications
Dinner with Mama
My Girl
It’s Time
Knew It Wouldn’t Last
Long Drive Home
Just a Fling
The Land of Spectacular Lies
Get the Girl
Find Somebody New
Who Cheated First
Stand Up for My Girl
Forgiveness
Epilogue
Coming Soon
About the Author
Also by J. Sterling
Dedication
Sometimes our lives feel like they no longer belong to us.
This story is for anyone who has ever felt like their life was not their own, for whatever reason or circumstance.
I hope you fight for yours.
The Cheating Scandal
Paige
When a text message pinged on my phone, I clicked on the link included without thinking. I didn’t bother reading the contents of the text or the link description; knowing it was from my best friend, Quinn, was enough of a reason to absentmindedly click for me. Usually she sent me links to things she thought I should see that involved our friends, coworkers, or her boyfriend. This link, however, had nothing to do with any of her usual subjects, and when I realized that, my heart stopped.
The video appeared grainy at first as the cell phone camera adjusted to the strobe lighting in the club. My boyfriend, Colin, suddenly appeared in the frame, a smile plastered on his face as his eyes focused on someone or something not in the picture. He raised a hand, waving someone over toward him, his grin growing more mischievous.
My brain screamed at me to stop watching. Something inside begged me to look away, turn it off, throw my smart phone across the room, but I couldn’t. It was obviously bad enough for Quinn to send to me, so I had to keep watching.
No matter how much it was going to hurt.
An overly busty blonde sauntered into view, showing more skin than clothes, dancing seductively as she made her way toward my boyfriend. He reached for her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him, her legs wrapping around his very private area in very plain sight.
Who does that?
The blonde’s skirt rode up, revealing her bare ass, and Colin’s hands were suddenly there, squeezing it, slapping it, lifting her skirt higher. As she leaned her head toward his face, I honestly thought for a second he’d come to his senses. Maybe he wouldn’t kiss her. Maybe he’d toss her off his lap, tell her to go to hell, and rush out of the club, humiliated. Then again, that type of thing only happened in the books I read and the movies I starred in. Most guys weren’t anywhere near as well-behaved as we women wanted them to be.
As if reading my mind, Colin fisted a handful of her hair, and I watched as he yanked her head back, causing the rest of her hair to spill provocatively behind her. His lips pressed against her neck as he licked his way up to her mouth. She laughed, and then he kissed her. It was a mess of tongues and body parts grinding, with hands roaming in places hands shouldn’t be roaming in public.
I’d seen more than enough, so I stopped the video and tried to remind myself how to breathe, my heart pounding as if I were on a treadmill. If anything came after that spectacle—no pun intended—I didn’t need to see it.
Pushing off from the couch, I walked to my window and glanced down toward the street, noticing the swarm of paparazzi already beginning to form.
They’re quick.
This wasn’t the first time claims of infidelity like this had been leveled against my pop-star boyfriend, Colin McGuire, but it was the first time pictures had accompanied the accusations. If a picture spoke a thousand words, this horrendous video and the photos that accompanied it screamed a million. Colin could never talk his way out of my seeing his tongue being buried in that woman’s throat, seeing him grab her ass and grinding on her for all to see.
Falling back on the couch, I tried to unsee what I’d just watched. I couldn’t believe Colin was so blatant and stupid. Most celebrities knew if they were going to cheat, they should do it where people couldn’t watch them or take photos for proof. Apparently the VIP section of a club in London was not that place. Maybe he wanted to get caught? But why not just break up with me first?
Staring down at my cell phone, my eyes stinging from humiliation and the tears that now slid down my cheeks, I scanned the various tabloid headlines being sent to me nonstop via text message and e-mail from what seemed like every person I’d ever crossed paths with in my entire life. My breath caught in my throat and I nearly choked, unable to believe this was actually happening.
Colin Cheats on America’s Sweetheart with Stripper!
Colin McGuire Caught in Cheating Scandal with not One, but Three Buxom Blondes!
Not the First Time Colin has Cheated on Paige – See the Proof Inside!
Paige, Embarrassed and Ashamed, Won’t Be Seen in Public!
Heartbroken Paige in Hiding! Where Has She Gone?
I swiped at the moisture on my cheeks before looking around at the brightly decorated walls of my apartment. Since when had sitting in the living room of my own home been considered hiding? Although I had to admit—the thought of crawling into a hole somewhere secluded sounded more appealing with each minute that passed.
Any breakup sucked, but going through one when you were a celebrity was ten times worse. Imagine every single incident in your life magnified, scrutinized, and published all over the world, usually portrayed in the most unflattering light and rarely accurate. The more scandalous the subject matter, the more the story took off. Over time I’d learned that people didn’t care if what was being reported was true or not; they simply enjoyed observing the chaos and carnage from the safety of their own mundane lives. For whatever reason, the public enjoyed watching celebrities suffer, and it reminded me just how out of touch with one another we truly were.
Ridding my head of those thoughts, I wondered how many times in the past Colin had cheated, and just how much of a fool I’d been. We’d dated for almost a year, and I thought we understood each other’s lifestyle, never being too possessive or jealous, never questioning each other’s actions. Both of us were in the entertainment industry, and while groupies tossed their dignity at him every night, I suppose I was naive enough to think he’d never take them up on their offers.
I suddenly had the urge to slap my own stupid face and freaking kill him. Right after I picked up the pieces of my shattered pride and aching heart.
Startling me, my phone vibrated against the coffee table. I watched as it danced, shaking all the tabletop items around it like they were in a bouncy house. It had been doing that almost nonstop since the news broke, and I let it.
I glanced down to see my manager’s name, Corryn, flashing on the screen. I pressed Ignore only to have the phone start vibrating again within seconds. My agent, Jayson, was apparently next in line on the check-on-Paige train. Pushing Ignore again, I wondered when they’d all get the hint to leave me alone. My publicist had called five times already and I probably should have answered her call, but honestly, this was Colin’s screw-up, not mine. If anyone should be talking to their publicist about saving face, it was him, not me.
My mother always warned me that people in this business were not as good-hearted as I tended to be. This industry was vicious and brutal, but it was also amazing, life-changing, and spectacular. I loved my job, and up until about thirty minutes ago, I thought I’d loved Colin too.
Mom also constantly reminded me that I was far too trusting, but I didn’t know how to be any other way. Being a Southern California native who spent most of my years living a normal childhood helped keep me grounded. My parents had normal lives, had worked normal jobs, and I had never planned on becoming an actress.
Fighting the urge to call my mom, I picked up the phone to dial my best friend, Quinn, instead. When the phone suddenly vibrated in my hand I almost dropped it, but quickly answered when I noticed Quinn’s name on the display.
“I was just going to call you,” I breathed out.
“Liar,” she scoffed, and I almost huffed out a laugh. Almost.
“I swear.”
“Verdict?”
I knew exactly what she meant. “There’s no way that video’s faked.”
“I thought the same thing,” she said, agreeing way too quickly.
“The other pictures too. They don’t look Photoshopped to you, do they?” There were also pictures taken of Colin with other women. Apparently the blonde had friends, and she didn’t mind sharing.
She sighed before admitting, “No.”
“Me either.”
“I can’t believe this shit,” Quinn bit out. “No. Scratch that. Actually I can, and I’ll kill his scrawny ass the next time I see him. Pack some clothes and get over here. You’re staying with me tonight.” She paused briefly, seeming to consider before asking, “Unless you want me to come there and stay with you? Is that what you want? I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll totally come to you. I’m an idiot—”
I forced my hazy brain to make a decision, then I cut her off. “No. Your place sounds perfect. I’d love to get away from here. It’s already a madhouse outside. Thanks, Quinn.”
“Of course. I love you. Drive safe.”
Quinn and I had bonded instantly on the set of my first movie when I was fourteen. She was a pro, had been acting since she was a little kid, and I’d been so nervous that I felt sick to my stomach when I arrived that afternoon. She had shared her french fries with me, reminding me that eating something was better than eating nothing when you were nervous and had to work until who knew when. I decided right then and there that any girl who would share her fries with a stranger was a keeper.
Plus, she was incredibly kind to me, and I envied the way she spoke her mind, no matter who she was talking to. Quinn Johnson never seemed afraid of anyone or anything, and I wanted to be more like her.
When production on our film wrapped, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see Quinn again, but to my surprise we became virtually inseparable. She was the one person in the world who really understood what I was going through. We shared experiences that other people couldn’t begin to relate to, and I was so happy to have her in my corner.
Tossing some comfortable clothes into an overnight bag, I wandered into my bathroom and gathered up my necessities as my phone rang yet again from my bedroom. I should have turned it off hours ago, but it wasn’t in my DNA to be rebellious and unreachable. The fact that I’d ignored most calls today was pretty out of character for me. Ever the obedient one, Paige Lockwood had always played by the rules.
I walked over to where my phone lay on my bed and checked the caller ID to see Colin’s name flashing across the screen. My stomach instantly churned and my heart seized. Willing my numb fingers to move, I pressed Ignore, half-tempted to throw the damn thing against the wall and watch it splinter into tiny pieces like my heart. Taking some calming breaths, I focused on each inhale and exaggerated exhale as he continued to call my phone, the calls finally stopping as my text message notification beeped.
It’s not what it looks like.
And then beeped again.
You know it’s fake. Those girls just want money.
Just talk to me, baby.
Please.
Baby? Lord give me strength if another man ever calls me “baby” again.
I rolled my eyes at his texts and wondered if he’d ever told me the truth in the last ten months. Thankful he was in another country and couldn’t show up here unannounced, I gathered what was left of my wits and my things, and headed out my front door. I made my way downstairs, knowing all too well what I’d be faced with once I was down there.
The dreaded paparazzi.
Thank God I’d had the foresight to choose a place in LA with a doorman, private parking, and twenty-four-hour concierge service. My parents suggested the concierge, and I’d been convinced that no such thing existed in Southern California. I’d never been happier than in this moment to be proven wrong by that simple fact. I loved the security and privacy that living here afforded me.
Lowering my sunglasses over my face, I stepped into the lobby and was immediately greeted by Sam, the concierge, his salt-and-pepper hair falling into his eyes. He quickly brushed the stray hairs away and walked with me toward the building’s exit.
“Good afternoon, Miss Lockwood.” His thick Latino accent filled the space between us and I marveled at how beautiful it sounded. I always did this around Sam, acted as if I were studying the very fabric of the language for a part or upcoming role. I never was, but he humored me anyway, talking purely for my enjoyment.
“The paparazzi are across the street. Right over there.” He gestured in the direction of a small crowd and I nodded in response, offering a tight-lipped smile as he continued. “They tried to come in, but I threatened to call the cops and have them all arrested for trespassing.”
“I really wish they’d pass some laws against this type of thing,” I said with a sigh.
“I know, Miss Lockwood. It makes me very nervous when you drive off and they chase you. Very nervous.” He nodded his head and looked up into the air as if offering a silent prayer.
I leaned toward him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “It makes me nervous too.”
His body tensed. “I’ll have the valet get your car,” he said, his tone defeated. “Please tell me you’re going to Miss Johnson’s? Or home to your parents?”
Sam loved Quinn. Everyone loved her, but Sam especially enjoyed her take-no-shit attitude and told her so every time she came to visit. I constantly spotted the two of them discussing Quinn’s latest shenanigans whenever she came around. She loved embellishing her stories for Sam, and he loved hearing her tales.
“I’m staying with Quinn for a few days. I don’t want to bring this to my parents’ house. They have to work, and my sister would be beyond annoyed if it interfered with her senior year. They don’t need this on their doorstep.”
“Miss Johnson will take care of you. I suppose Mr. Miller will be there as well?” he asked hopefully.
I nodded my head and chuckled at his overprotective nature. “Yes, Dad number two, both Quinn and Ryson will be there.”
He pressed his lips together in a cautious smile and shrugged. “I just worry.”
“I know, Sam. Thank you. I’ll be fine. But hey,” I said as a thought occurred to me. “Will you please remove Colin’s name from my access list? I don’t want him coming up unannounced anytime soon.”
Sam’s face reddened, telling me he’d heard the news. “Of course. Hopefully he knows better than to show up during my shift.”
I smiled, and it felt good after all the tears I’d shed today. Offering Sam a quick squeeze, I said good-bye and headed toward my waiting BMW as the paparazzi jumped into action at the sight of me.
Thank God for Best Friends
Paige
I weaved in and out of traffic on the Pacific Coast Highway in Malibu, driving recklessly and way too fast. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I noted at least ten cars had followed me, all trying to maneuver as close as possible. No matter how I drove, I couldn’t shake them. They’d been tailing me since we left my apartment on Wilshire Boulevard, and I was convinced they knew exactly where I was headed.
My anxiety level escalated as one car shot ahead, closing the space between us, the driver with a camera in one hand and gripping the steering wheel with the other. This was so dangerous, and I never understood why the police seemed to allow it. One of these days someone was going to get killed, and I silently prayed it wouldn’t be me or anyone I loved. A quick turn off the main highway and into what Malibu considered a neighborhood with a view, I slowed my reckless pace and attempted to regain some self-control.
The chase cars screeched to a stop as I pulled up to Quinn’s privacy gates. A group of men jumped out quickly to get to me before I could escape inside. I leaned out my window to quickly punch the pass code into the keypad, and breathed out in relief as the gates swung open before any of them could reach me.
My heart thumped as I maneuvered my car into the driveway and shut down the engine. As I stepped outside, the camera-wielding madmen lined up outside the iron gates of my best friend’s house, shouting random questions at me as they shoved their equipment between the bars and snapped the shutters repeatedly.
“Paige, have you seen Colin?”
“Is it true?”
“We’re sorry, honey. He’s a jerk!”
“Has he cheated on you before?”
“How many times has it happened?”
“What about the woman in Vegas? Is it true she’s pregnant with his baby?”
I paused for a millisecond at the pregnancy bit, but forced myself not to interact with them as I bit down on the inside of my cheek while I rushed to the front door. The paparazzi were rarely ever cruel to me, but then again I didn’t normally give them anything to talk about. I stayed out of trouble, didn’t get sloppy drunk in bars, and never put myself in a position where I might be photographed getting into—or out of—a car without wearing my underwear.
They called me America’s Sweetheart for a reason, and to be honest, I liked being thought of that way. It suited me far better than something like America’s Next Addict or Super-Slut. But I’d seen on more than one occasion how cruel and unforgiving the paparazzi could be, and the thought of being the target for their gossip terrified me.
Quinn sprinted through the front door, her blond hair swaying with her haste. She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a pained look as she bit down on her bottom lip.
“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that,” I begged, squeezing my sunglass-covered eyes closed briefly before reopening them.
“Do what?” Her eyebrows pinched together.
“Don’t look at me with pity like that. I’ll break down right here on your front lawn if you look at me like that again,” I warned.
She sucked in a quick breath. “Fine. I’ll just project my feelings somewhere else.” A sly grin spread across her lips before she narrowed her gaze and turned to face the firing squad of reporters. Quinn hooked her hands on her hips and her voice rose to a near shout as the shutter clicks and questions died down.
“Leave her the hell alone. Don’t you have anything better to do? Give the girl a damn minute to deal with her life before you all do your best to make it worse for her. Why can’t you focus on all the good things Paige does instead of trying to kick her while she’s down? Go harass that asshole ex-boyfriend instead. He’s the one that deserves this shit storm. Not Paige.”
I tugged at her arm as my comfort level shrank to virtually nothing. “You don’t have to do that,” I whispered before she cut me off.
“Yes, I do. Screw them. They’re vultures. They love to see any one of us in pain. Especially someone as good as you who never does anything wrong. It makes me sick and I can’t stand it.” She reached for my hand, pulling me into her house, then slammed the front door, shielding us from prying eyes.
“What would I do without you?” I breathed out.
Quinn grinned. “Be way too nice to everyone in your life, including all the assholes outside who don’t care about you and only want to make money. You know, the usual.” Then she grabbed my bag from my shoulder.
“I can carry my stuff,” I started to complain, knowing it was futile. Quinn was hardheaded and strong-minded, two things I absolutely admired about her. They were also the two qualities I believed I lacked the most, which was why we probably bonded so quickly as teenagers. We balanced each other out. She was definitely the yin to my yang, and our opposite natures only made me love her more.
“So can I. Come on.” She headed down her naturally lit hallway toward one of two guest rooms. Quinn had them professionally decorated in themes: the Jungle Room and the Goddess Quarters. I wasn’t allowed to stay in the Jungle Room, even though I loved the rich greens and dark wood that dominated it. She always said, “The Jungle Room is for boys, Paige, and you’re not a boy.”
The decor of my gender-appropriate room was gorgeous, however. Filled with rare and collectible Disneyland art, its classic symmetry and beauty was modeled after one of the suites at the theme park’s hotel. A stunning four-poster bed was the focal point of the room, its heavy silver curtains tied off on all sides, revealing crisp white bedding and oversized pillows. Silver and blue accents swirled throughout the room and into the private bath, where Italian hand-crafted marble and a fairy-tale theme combined to create a heavenly escape. Whenever I stayed here, it was like being in a dream. Everything down to the knobs on the dresser had been carefully chosen for maximum effect.
Quinn tossed my bag onto the bed and then turned to face me. “Do you want to be alone, or are you hungry or anything?”
“If I wanted to be alone, I wouldn’t be here,” I responded with mock snarkiness, and she snarled back at me.
“Don’t try to sass me. It doesn’t work on you.” Her upper lip curled as she shook her head, and I held back a grin.
“Where’s Ryson?” I asked, assuming her live-in boyfriend had to be around here somewhere.
Her eyes lit up. “He’s in the office on a conference call. The boy never stops working, I swear. He has so many things he wants to do, Paige. It’s so hot.”
Quinn always swooned as she talked about her boyfriend of the last four years. They met on the set of a movie where they each played the lead, and sparks instantly flew both on and off camera.
Ryson had a rough past, though, and Quinn had resisted dating him at first because of it. But he wore her down eventually after proving he was worthy and insisting that his reformed bad-boy ways were now all in fun. He liked to go out with the guys, get pissed drunk, and get into fights. That hadn’t changed, and as far as I knew, Quinn never cared about those types of things. As long as he wasn’t cheating on her, she not-so-secretly liked that bad-boy side of him.
“He wants to start directing, doesn’t he?” I asked.
She waved her hand to shut me up. “Among other things. He’s written a couple of movie scripts, and he has an idea for a reality show. I don’t know how he has the time to do everything he does, but he’s a maniac.” She laughed. “Anyway, let’s go grab some food and sit out back by the pool.”
I sucked in a deep breath, wishing it would help the ache in my heart. “Sounds good.”
We walked back down the hallway and into the kitchen where Quinn opened the door to her fridge. She grabbed a smorgasbord of food and slapped it all down onto a large tray.
“Okay, I grabbed us some ice cream, and I made brownies and chocolate chip cookie dough.”
“You made brownies and cookies already?” I asked in disbelief.
“You know how I am in the kitchen!” she said, glaring at me.
Quinn couldn’t cook at all, and I knew it quite well. “A disaster?”
She swatted my shoulder. “Fine! You know how I am with baking.”
“A master,” I said with a slight grin.
Quinn solved problems with junk food. If she couldn’t bake it, she’d order it or buy it. She always said there wasn’t an issue that couldn’t be fixed with sweets and treats.
She shrugged. “I figured ice cream, cookie dough, and brownies were good breakup food.”
I nodded instead of responding. My brain stuck on the word breakup and as if on cue, the video started replaying in my mind’s eye.
Quinn placed a hand on my arm, pulling my focus back to her. “I’m sorry, Paige. I’m being insensitive. I don’t mean to be so harsh with my words.”
Shaking my head, I said, “No, you’re not. It’s the truth. I just…it’s not that I can’t believe we’ve broken up. I just can’t believe the way it’s happened.”
“He’s a loser. And a disgusting pig. He doesn’t deserve you, obviously. But mostly, you don’t deserve any of this.”
“I’m too shocked, stunned, and numb to process that he’s a complete waste of oxygen, but I’m sure I’ll get there. Eventually.”
“We’ll get there together. I’ll put all this together, and you get outside and get some vitamin D. Drinks are in the outdoor fridge,” she instructed with a nod of her head, and I realized my staying inside was not up for discussion.
After grabbing a lemon water and a diet soda, I plopped down on one of her oversized lounge chairs next to the pool. The sun immediately started soaking into my pores as I tipped my head back and sucked in a long cleansing breath. Closing my eyes, I silently thanked God for the eighty-degree warmth. It didn’t seem right to feel so broken during such a beautiful day, as if my mood and the weather were a complete contradiction. I decided that if the sun had the ability to heal my broken heart, I wished it would hurry up and do it already.
Quinn maneuvered herself onto the chair next to mine and placed the tray of food between us on a small table. “Eat,” she ordered, turning it in my direction so I could view the selection.
I grabbed some crackers and cheese, and made a show of nibbling at them. My appetite had disappeared somewhere between the time the news broke and Colin’s pathetic attempts at reaching out to me.
“Has he tried to call you?”
I nodded, wishing we could avoid all things Colin, but knowing the reality of that would never happen. Sometimes I wished my life had a fast-forward button and I could skip ahead to the time when this was all in my past. But life didn’t work that way.
“You didn’t answer?”
I shrugged my shoulders and nodded my head again.
“You’re my hero,” she practically sang in response. “Remind me to take lessons from you if Ryson ever breaks my heart. I don’t think I could stop myself from answering. That’s some serious willpower.”
I pushed up, folding my legs in a yoga pose as I turned to face her. Searching for the right words, I said nothing as the tears started to fall.
Quinn noticed what was happening and jumped to my side immediately, then wrapped her arms around me. “He doesn’t deserve your tears—” she started to say, but stopped. “But I know you’re hurting. And I’m so sorry for that.”
I sniffed. “Me too. I feel so stupid.”
“He should feel stupid,” she snapped.
I leaned my head against her shoulder. “He made me look stupid, Quinn. It’s one thing when your boyfriend is cheating on you and all your friends know. I mean, that’s embarrassing enough, but he made a fool of me in front of the whole damn world. It’s mortifying on top of everything else I’m feeling.”
“No.” She leaned away from me and grabbed my shoulders to square them. “He made a fool of himself. He made himself look like a complete douche bag asshole. He didn’t make you look like anything.”
My pride longed to believe her. But it wouldn’t. Or couldn’t. I knew in my heart that no matter what Colin had done, or how badly it looked, he had included me in his actions. No one would ever think about his indiscretion without attaching my name to it. I didn’t want to be associated with this, and I hated the way it made my stomach ache.
“He made me look like a fool, Quinn. People will look at me with pity in their eyes. With sadness. It’s embarrassing. I’m mortified that I look like a stupid, weak, and pathetic girl who didn’t know her pop-star boyfriend was cheating on her with silicone-injected strippers. I’m like a walking cliché.”
“No, you’re not.” Quinn’s voice was firm. “I know you don’t believe this because right now you’re hurting, but you’re not a damn cliché, Paige. If anyone in this scenario is a cliché, it’s him. Oh, you’re a singer and you cheated on your perfect girlfriend with strippers?” She snorted. “How shocking. He’s too stupid to even get creative about it.”
“If he’s so stupid, what does that make me?”
“Damn it, Paige! That’s what I’m trying to get through that skull of yours. He is not you. His actions do not define you. They define him. HIM!” she shouted at me, her frustration rolling from her in waves. “They make statements about his character, not yours. How you handle yourself and how you react to all of this shit will speak volumes about you.”
The glass door behind us slid open and Ryson called out across the yard as he walked toward us. “My two favorite ladies.”
“I’m sorry,” Quinn whispered. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I know you’re hurting right now, but I just really hate him and I want to kick him in the balls for being such an asshole.”
