Under the Lights

I rub the sleep out of my eyes and pull the phone away to check the number again. What the hell is happening right now? “Josh?”

“I’m at the Burbank PD. They made me sleep in the fucking drunk tank. Can you get me?”

“The drunk tank? Are you kidding me?”

He sighs exasperatedly, like I’m the one who stuck an IV of tequila into his veins. “I don’t get a lot of time here, K-drama. One call, and Ronen’s got the day off for his sister’s wedding, so I made you it. Will you come or not?”

As if I’m not in hot enough water with everyone imaginable, I don’t even know what would happen if I showed up at a freaking police station to gather Josh. It’s only by the grace of my parents visiting my aunt this week that I’ve managed to avoid their wrath after all that publicity. “I can’t, Josh. I’m screwed enough as it is. But I’ll call Liam—”

“Do not call Liam. Trust me — he’s not up for doing me any favors right now.”

“And you think I am?”

“Hey, I think I did pretty good by you in that stupid fucking interview, didn’t I?” I hear someone yelling in the background, and then Josh says, “I gotta go. Stop making excuses and come get me.” He hangs up.

I stare at the phone for a full minute, trying to decide how much I care that Josh needs me. Of course he’d put this on me without a second thought, and of course he just assumes I’ll do whatever he wants. I’m sort of dying to teach him a lesson by ignoring him and going back to sleep. Plus, I’m just dying for more sleep, period.

But I know I won’t screw him over like that, no matter how badly I want to. If I really was his one call… It’s not like I want to call his parents — even if I knew how to reach them — and he made it pretty clear Liam wasn’t an option. I don’t know how to contact Holly on a weekend, and ugh, Ally, how could you leave me alone with this idiot?

Groaning, I pull myself out of bed and drag my butt into the shower, but even washing off the grime of last night doesn’t make me feel better about this whole thing. I can’t just roll up to a freaking police station, and definitely not to pick up the guy who’s already the center of a billion rumors about me now.

I throw on an incognito outfit of jeans, a plaid shirt, and sunglasses, but I still can’t make myself move out the door. I can’t do this alone, and I can only think of one person who might help me. Much as she might hate me right now, there’s no one else I can call. I take a deep breath and dial Bri.

The phone rings three times, and I’m sure she’s screening my call. But just as I’m about to hang up, I hear the tail end of a weary sigh and then, “Hey.”

“I need to ask you a favor,” I blurt, hating myself for even saying the words.

“Vanessa—”

“As my publicist,” I add quickly, even though what I really need is hand-holding more than anything else. I quickly fill her in on my current predicament. “You know the shit will hit the fan even worse if I go myself. Plus, I just…I can’t.”

“This is really messed up, you know that?”

“I do know that. I promise, if I had anyone else to ask, I would.”

She sighs again. “Lemme shower and get dressed, and I’ll come pick you up.”

“Thank you, Bri. Seriously. I owe you.”

But she hangs up before the words are even out of my mouth.

I spend the time while I wait for her studying my lines, but I can’t go more than a couple of minutes without glancing at my phone or out the front picture window. Finally, her Jeep pulls up, and I go out to meet her with all the anticipation I usually reserve for a full leg wax.

The ride to the police department is almost completely silent, minus the music blasting from the speakers, which her iPod identifies as Rage Against the Machine. I don’t know any of the songs, and she doesn’t so much as absently tap her fingers along to any.

By the time we pull up to the Burbank PD, I’m actually excited to walk into jail, if it means getting out of the cold prison cell that is Bri’s car.

Inside, the process of waiting for Josh to deal with his paperwork and hand over the fine he swears he’ll pay back seems to take for-freaking-ever, especially with Bri ignoring me the entire time. She doesn’t even stand with me as I deal with everything, opting instead to sit in the waiting area with a dog-eared copy of a creepy-looking book that says The Secret History on it in black block letters.

When Josh finally emerges, he looks like complete and total crap, and I’m curious just how much he partied the night before. After years of living like this, he’s got sky-high tolerance, so it must’ve been pretty epic. But judging by the scowl on his face, along with his muttered “Thanks, K-drama,” I’m guessing he doesn’t wanna talk about it. And he only gets more sour-looking when he spots Bri, who looks up from her book and sighs as she folds back her page and slowly stands to join us.

“What’s Mini-Jade doing here?”