“We were here first,” Dani counters. “Go somewhere else.”
The girl hauls back and seriously is about to punch Dani. I pull Dani away just in time and the chick misses, hitting Tina instead.
“What the fuck!” Tina says, rubbing her arm. She reaches out and yanks the girl’s hair. “Skank.”
Oh crap. This is totally not happening right now. It’s going to erupt into an all-out girl-fight in a second. Spotting a guy over near the speakers with a bunch of Hula Hoops on both arms, I drag Tina away. “Come on,” I tell everyone. “Let’s see what’s going on over here.”
Tina and the chick yell insults at each other as we make our way out of the crowd.
It just so happens that the guy is O-Twist’s tour manager and he’s doing some kind of contest. “The girls who can Hula Hoop the longest can go backstage to meet the band,” he says.
Sweet! We all grab one from him. Turns out, I’m the world’s worst Hula Hooper. I can’t even get it to go around my waist once before it slips down. Tina isn’t much better, but I think she’s too drunk anyway. Dani and Sara are the big winners, both managing to keep going for a full two minutes.
“Impressive,” the man says, collecting the hoops from us and looping them back onto his arms. Kind of pudgy, with a round face and bulbous nose, he’d look just like Santa if he had a white beard. A creepy Santa, I decide, as I catch him staring at Tina’s boobs.
“I’ll tell you what,” he says. “Since you ladies are all together, why don’t you all come?” He produces five O-Twist T-shirts and hands them to us. “Put these on.” After telling us when and where to go, he disappears into the crowd.
“Oh my God, can you believe it?” Sara says, pulling the shirt over her head. “We actually get to meet Angus Oliver. He’s sooo hot.”
Dani scowls. “Hot? The dude’s old enough to be your dad.”
Sara rolls her eyes. “Who cares? He’s in great shape. And really, really famous.”
After I put on my shirt, I fire off a quick text to Jon. Maybe if he’s feeling better, he can come join us. He’d love this.
A half hour later, after O-Twist is done and the next band is setting up, we’re standing in front of the crowd barrier at the north side of the stage.
“Any idea how long we’ll be back there?” Tina’s eyelids are half-closed and she’s slurring her words. She looks like crap. “I’ve got to leave pretty soon. I have to work in the morning. Oh…shit… I think I’m going to get sick.” And she does.
I turn around to see her taking off her O-Twist T-shirt and wiping her mouth.
Before any of us can answer her, we hear shouting coming from backstage. Probably another person trying to break through the security, I’m guessing.
“Oh my God,” Dani says.
I glance over to see what she’s looking at and that’s when I spot Jon. Backstage. With two beefy-looking security guys on either side of him.
What the hell is going on? Without thinking, I rush past the security barricade and sprint toward him.
“Hey,” yells the guard. “Get back here.”
“That’s my boyfriend,” I yell without slowing. I can hear my friends behind me.
When I reach Jon, I can’t decide what shocks me the most—seeing Angus Oliver up close and nursing a bloody lip, or Jon looking half-crazed and rubbing his fist.
chapter twenty-three
I want every girl that ever lived. I fuck everything that moves.
Jon
I glare at Angus Oliver, the international superstar and total douche bag who happens to be my sperm donor. “You stay the fuck away from her.”
Angus holds up his hands. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Some of my friends, including my girlfriend, were invited backstage. We both know perfectly well what happens after that. I’m not going to let you fuck up their lives, too.”
“Listen, Jon,” he says. I grimace at the fact that he uses my name.
After I punched him in the face, he looked at me for a long moment before the realization of who I was dawned in his expression. “You’re taller than I thought you’d be,” was the first thing he said.
He dabs the blood from his lip with a tissue that someone gave him. “Relax. Phil didn’t know who they were when he invited them back.”
“Hell,” says a fat guy. “I didn’t know one of your kids was this old.”
A sour pit forms in my stomach. So I do have half-siblings out there somewhere.
“I’m not planning to fuck your girls, so chill the fuck out, okay?” Angus scratches his upper leg. He’s wearing a huge skull ring on one finger and a huge sideways cross on another.
“You don’t exactly have the track record to back up that statement.”
Angus exhales loudly, then he smiles at someone behind me. I turn to see Ivy and her friends. It literally makes my blood boil as I imagine every sick thought running through his head.
“Jon, are you okay?” Ivy tries to come closer, but a security guard steps in front of her.
“You the girlfriend?” Angus asks, letting his gaze roam up and down her body.
I try to jerk away from the guys holding me, but they’re too strong. My fist is itching to connect with Angus’s face again. Multiple times, if possible.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” he continues. “What have I ever done to you?”
Is he fucking serious? A million possible responses are clogging my brain right now.
“I know I haven’t been the best father, but that doesn’t give you the right to come backstage and get violent.”
A hush goes through the small crowd around us as his words sink in. Yes, I am Angus Oliver’s son. One of the most famous rockstars on the planet is my father.
About fifteen to twenty people are watching us, and a few of them have their camera phones out. Fuck. It’ll only be a matter of time before all of PSU hears this. I’ve tried so hard to keep that fact to myself. I don’t want to be known as Angus Oliver’s son. I want to be known for being me.
That’s when I notice that everyone except Tina is wearing matching shirts. Matching O-Twist shirts. Including Ivy. Anger doesn’t begin to describe what it feels like to see my father’s face on my girlfriend’s chest. I want to rip it off of her and burn it.
“Angus Oliver is your dad?” Sara asks, her eyes wide. “Oh my God. I want both of your autographs on my shirt. Father and son. It’ll totally be a collector’s item.” Angus produces a black Sharpie from somewhere—probably from Phil’s pocket—and motions her over. She pulls the hem of the shirt down, making the fabric go tight across her chest.
“Sign right here,” she says. “Right above my heart.”
Angus gives her an I-want-to-get-into-your-pants smile as he signs it.
Then she looks at me.
I shake my head slowly. Don’t even fucking try.
I hear her say to someone, “That’s okay. I’ll just get his autograph back at PSU. He’s my tutor.”
“How’s your mom doing?” Angus asks, putting the cap back on the pen and handing it to Phil. “Still cutting hair?”
I grind my teeth at his conversational tone. “For your information, she died several years ago. Cancer. She tried to get in touch with you to let you know what was going on, but she never heard back. Imagine that.” Despite my protests, she wanted to see if I could go live with him. To make sure I was taken care of after she was gone.
Angus gets a hurt look on his face. “She died? Wow. That’s too bad. I always liked her.”
Liked? He liked her? An uncontrollable rush of anger hits me like a truck, and I lunge at him again. “You bastard. You fucking ruined her life.”