Rod made an odd sound with his throat while he stood in the doorway, fidgeting like a child who needed to pee.
“What?” I asked, clearly annoyed.
“Well, who are you bringing?”
I drew a blank. Who could I take with me that wouldn’t make it into more than it actually was? A giant promo stunt. I had no one in mind. I used to have girls on backu
p for things like this, just like Jackson and Finn, but then I had to go off and actually get a “girlfriend,” so all my plus-ones were long gone.
“I have no one,” I mumbled.
Brooklyn snickered, and I whipped my head over to her, raising an eyebrow. “Somethin’ funny over there?”
She smashed her lips together and looked down at the notebook in her lap, hiding her attempt at smiling.
Rod clapped his hands together excitedly. “Perfect! Bring Brooklyn.”
She and I both pulled back instantly.
“What?!” Brooklyn shot to her feet. “I’m not going to an event with him! I’m… I’m his music teacher!”
Rod ignored her and looked at me. “It’ll be perfect. You know we can’t find someone who isn’t nuts over you or that’d draw too much attention to being your date in the amount of time we have.”
He wasn’t wrong, but something made me uneasy about the entire situation.
“So, what am I going to say when I introduce her at the event? That she’s my music teacher because I can’t write a fucking song?”
Brooklyn huffed. “You can write a song, Reid. Quit being so negative about it.”
I glared at her and then turned to Rod. He was looking at me with raised eyebrows and so much hope in his eyes that I wanted to gouge them out.
“Fine,” I finally said, my chest burning. I had no clue why the idea of taking Brooklyn as my date made me feel so edgy inside, but it did.
Brooklyn gasped dramatically, placing her hands on her hips. “I can’t go! I have plans.”
I laughed out loud at her attempted lie. “You have plans? What plans?”
She pouted, pulling her hair to one side. “My friend Jane is meeting up with me tomorrow night.”
Rod asked, “Who’s Jane?”
I answered for Brooklyn. “Her friend that works at Teen Entertainment.”
Rod looked apologetic, but he didn’t budge. “Sorry, Brooklyn. We need you on this one.”
Brooklyn looked over at me with a smidge of hopefulness in her eyes, like she wanted me to save her from Rod’s suggestion. Part of me wanted to, because her puppy-dog look was enough to bring me to my knees, but then I thought about her with her friend Jane at some club in Atlanta, and my entire body burned with a raging dose of jealousy.
“I think it’s a great idea, Rod. I’ll bring Brooklyn.”
She squealed, “No!”
“Finally, you agree with me on something!” Rod exclaimed, throwing his hands up.
Brooklyn looked like she wanted to either punch me or cry—maybe even both at the same time—so I hurriedly blurted, “If you go with me, I’ll write a song. It may be shitty, but I’ll put actual pen on paper and write a fucking song. For you.”
Brooklyn’s eyes shifted to me, the fire inside of them still there, but I could see the embers dying down. She bit her lip, hands still placed on her hips. “I have nothing to wear.”
I rolled my eyes and looked at Rod. “Have Carissa send a dress to the hotel for Brooklyn.”