Page 34 of With Stars in Her Eyes

Courtney

“So… I guess Thea left for Huntsville already?” Sam leaned on the counter at the bookstore next to where I was trying to do inventory in between bites of my sandwich. It was my first day back in the bookstore after a week in my old life.

“How’d you know?”

“Because you’ve been staring at your lunch sadly for about ten minutes. Is this just about Thea or was New York worse than you let on…”

“It’s not just Thea. I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“About the tour?”

“All of it.” I dug my fists into my forehead.

I tried to figure out what to say, or more specifically what not to say, and settled on the part of the truth that was the least likely to make Sam’s head explode.

“I don’t want to wreck the opportunity Demetrius gave me.

If I go back on the road too soon and it happens again…

Demetrius will look like an idiot for trusting me.

There are still so many people in the industry who think I was just on a bender. ”

“But you weren’t. ”

“Rumors are so loud, and the truth ends up being functionally silent. And beyond that, I don’t know if I can perform like I did before. I’ve never been this afraid to get onstage in my life. It’s why I initially told Demetrius no.” I sniffled and grabbed a tissue from the counter.

“Wait. You told Demetrius no? What about the contract?”

“The lawyer said I have enough of a medical exception that the label won’t have much of a case if they try to come at me for a breach of contract. It would just stir things up again.”

“What’d Demetrius say?”

“He said to give it another couple weeks to think about it.”

Sam shifted closer. “Is quitting or taking the break from it what you want? Really? Because I’ve seen you onstage and—”

“I just don’t think I can do it. This is the right decision because it’s the only decision.”

“You love it so much though.”

“Maybe I could love something else. I reached out to someone at the old studio I used to work for. I liked coproducing with Demetrius. I might be good at that, and I could also be an in-house musician.”

“The studio in New York with that skeezy owner where they paid you basically nothing?”

“I’d still get to do what I love, but I wouldn’t risk fucking up an entire show for someone and embarrassing the people who stood up for me.”

“Demetrius didn’t say you embarrassed him.”

“No, he didn’t. And he wouldn’t. But…”

“You’re scared.” Sam scrutinized me. “And the closer you get to all of this also might lead to more people here figuring out who you are. I think that’s on your mind too.”

“You’re right.” I flinched and my train of thought stalled.

Going back on the road wasn’t perfect. Demetrius’s life was changing so fast. People had started following him.

He had stalkers. He had security. He could barely go out in public now.

Whatever decision I made could affect Thea.

“But I don’t know… when I was just there at the hotel, I didn’t like how I felt.

I’ve never been like that before when I was in hotels or on the road. ”

“I’m confused. You didn’t like it because you missed being there, but you live here now?”

“ No . Because I couldn’t wait to leave and fly back here . That scares me too because if I’m not even cut out for a week in a hotel room… that’s pathetic. And then there’s the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“I met a girl I really like here, but she doesn’t know about how much of a disaster my life is.

And I like being here, but I think no matter what I do, I’m not going to be able to hide the fact that I’m Kestrel from anyone soon.

Demetrius’s new record is going to come out with my name on it, and that’s already done.

I can’t change that. It means people here might find out—they probably will find out…

which— Fuck, why does nothing feel right? ”

“So what you’re saying is you wish you could do the tour but feel like you can’t for a lot of reasons.

You’re scared and traumatized, which is fair.

And you feel like no matter what you decide, your life is about to change big time, and people might know who you are here, which might change what Kansas is to you. ”

“ Yes .” I exhaled. And my ex-husband’s also blackmailing me, but if I say that your head will explode.

“Also, you like a very smart, talented, pretty girl here and, honestly, you seem just as scared about that as anything else.”

“Probably accurate if not a little embarrassing.” I massaged my tense scalp. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

She patted my hand. “Maybe let’s wait until you hear what the lawyers have to say about the contracts. Give it a couple weeks like Demetrius asked you to. Maybe hold off on any rash decisions for the weekend and just get some rest, okay? Your week sounded crazy.”

“How do you always know what I should do?”

“It’s always easier to untangle the drama in someone else’s life. You were the same with me in the Abbott situation. Now I’m happily married to an expert in culinary legal puns and procrastination, and that’s all because you helped me get out of my own head about it.”

“I guess that’s true.” My arm went around her shoulders. “Kind of funny that you met your husband when he notarized my divorce papers.”

“Definitely a life-goes-in-cycles type moment.” Sam laughed, and she picked a book up off a table nearby that had a cover with two women on it with stage lights, clearly a famous trope. “So… does Thea know you’re, like, almost famous .”

My laugh sounded more real this time even if it did end with a sniffle. “We’ve mostly talked about books. But she knows I’m in a band and tour and play cello abroad and stuff.”

“She doesn’t know anything about Kestrel?”

I winced. “Kestrel is a little niche. I’m sure she’s heard of Demetrius because who hasn’t these days?

But…” I squinted at the cover Sam had been holding up.

“What am I supposed to say? Hey. Just so you know, I’m Kestrel.

She’ll say, um the smallest bird of prey?

And I’ll say no, it’s just my stage name.

Then she’ll ask if I’m actually in the band I play with, and I’ll have to say no, and then she’ll ask why and that’s complicated.

She’ll probably just be like uh—cool or that’s weird?

Then if I explain more, I’ll seem like I’m trying to show off or something.

Like I’m saying Hey, why don’t you google me? I’m like low-key a big deal, I swear. ”

“She’s not going to think that.” Sam laughed. “Gosh, you really did double down on the bird thing, didn’t you?”

“And yes, Demetrius has given me no end of mocking about the bird thing.”

“Sorry.” Sam snorted.

“What if I try and can’t? Seriously, if that happens, I might melt into a puddle.”

“You did that prerecorded live thing while you were in New York? It seemed like that went okay, right?”

“That was different. It didn’t feel the same as getting on the stage for a big show.

The next tour is arenas . A-re-nas.” I dug my fingertips into my furrowed forehead lines.

“How am I supposed to know if I can do that? What if I choke? My PTSD is so bad from that one fucking night that the idea of standing in front of another audience makes me want to throw up even when I don’t have a migraine flare. ”

“You’re spiraling, Courtney.”

“I’m well aware.” I swallowed and then coughed as if I’d choked on my thoughts.

Sam rubbed the space between my shoulder blades. “And I might have one idea for the acute PTSD thing, but it’s a little unconventional.”

“Unconventional, how exactly?”

The front concrete stoop of my rental house wasn’t exactly a comfortable spot to be lying on, but something about the rough surface appealed to my anxious masochism.

I looked again at the small baggie that Sam had brought by earlier.

There were two capsules in it. And I wasn’t sure what to do with them.

Apparently, both Jeannie and Marshall’s father, a former pharmacist, had been researching some botanical pharmaceuticals as part of a research study with the university. A very interesting and slightly shocking side gig.

My phone was in time-out inside the house.

Ignoring Demetrius’s calls was getting harder and harder.

Since Thea was out of town there wasn’t really anyone I wanted to talk to.

Since Sam and Abbott were trying to get pregnant, Sam wasn’t going to be able to take a dose with me.

I had spent the day doing research on how they worked for PTSD and depression and reading personal accounts of people who had tried them.

There was even a recent study showing a reduction of migraine attacks.

But as much as I thought I had put enough time and distance between who I was now and the pathologically people-pleasing, black-and-white-thinking church girl, I was hesitating.

Any time I made a choice like this, I ended up with days of some kind of existential dread.

Like I was waiting for the retaliatory supernatural punishment.

I pushed the bag into my pocket.

Birds were singing and the breeze was mild for June. It was so bright I wore my backup stage glasses. I wished I could nap. I hadn’t really slept in days. I sighed melodramatically and put my arms beneath me as a makeshift pillow.

“Hi, Courtney.”

My eyes popped open. Maybe I had fallen asleep, because I felt strangely disoriented as I stood, but maybe I was just weak at the knees.

Because Thea Quinn stood on the sidewalk looking stunning with all five dimples on display, her brown eyes full of mischievous heat.

“What happened with the wedding shower thing?”

Thea whistled low. “Salacious scandal. Bride walked in on some major shenanigans between the groom and her mother last night. The mother, by the way, is my mother’s friend in addition to almost having been my brother’s law partner’s almost mother-in-law.

” She paused as if rethinking the sentence and making sure she had gotten all those words right, then gave a tiny nod.

“This is a country club scandal the likes of which I have never heard of before. Called the whole thing off. The bride sent me a big online payment of cash from her mom as an apology for me driving halfway back for no reason, and I turned around.”

“ Whoa .”

“So I have a couple of free days, and an unexpected windfall. Want to go on a field trip?”

“Oh, fuck yes.”

“Good with being out late?” She extended her hand.

I grabbed it and pulled her into a hug. “Always.”