Page 161 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
My stomach flips so hard it might turn inside out.
He might get me out of here, but I still need to descend those stairs. Those people are still corralled around the stairs.
Holy cow.
Ouch! My stomach.
I wipe away the new layer of sweat.
Dang it. Maybe I should’ve just flown home. I’ve gone right into the Circle 8 hub. The homeland of the celebrity kids and their superfans. I’m spending a few hours here. I don’t know how my nervous system will remain functioning.
The security guard snaps his fingers at me. “Okay, look alive. We’re going down these stairs and straight to the car. Are you with me?”
Despite everything in front of me having a red haze, I nod. Claire’s voice is garbled as she bids me farewell. My feet vibrate as I take my first step off the plane. Hot blood pumps thick in my veins as the deafening cheers hit me harder outside the plane.
The security guard keeps a hand on my back as he walks every step down with me. Wishing I’d swiped Portia’s blackout sunglasses, I blink hard against the morning sun mixed with the camera flashes
Now, I hear her demure giggle break through the crowd noise. I gulp for air as a weight presses heavier against my chest. Through my blurry vision, I spy Wyatt and Portia, mingling with the crowd as Lexy controls when and who they speak with. I spy a marker in Wyatt’s hand and he scribbles his name against posters, T-shirts, and fan’s flesh.
I’m almost steady until a group of girls spot me, pointing and yelling in my direction.
When the words, “The girl from the video,” are hurled my way, I’m ready to topple over. Thank goodness, the security guard still has a hand anchored behind me. He keeps me moving and soon I’m out of view of the crowd. I pant, feeling dehydrated after the sweat drained from my pores.
“This is your car,” the security guard says, and I lean against it with alack of energy.
I shiver my understanding, knees knocking so hard I’m sure to have bruises.
He opens the car door, encouraging me to take a seat inside. Embarrassingly, he has to help me into the car, as my coordination has left my body.
He closes the door on me, and thankfully, the outside noises are muffled.
Left with my own thoughts, my knees jerk a little less, and I remember how I left things with Wyatt.
I shoved him.
I shoved my boyfriend, who is finally walking without an aide.
I shoved the boy I love, who was only acting concerned for me.
How could I shove him?
Drowning in my thoughts, it feels like an eternity until the door finally opens.
“Hey, Josie,” Wyatt says, getting into the car beside me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry!” I rush. “I never meant to push you. I would never want to hurt you.”
“I’m okay,” he coos, brushing back my hair. “Are you okay?”
I swallow hard, but a retch breaks through. “I was selfish. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”
“No, you weren’t. I could see you were terrified. I only left with Portia so we could get out of there sooner. I knew if the crowd saw me, then you’d be safe from anyone looking at you. I know masses like that scare you.”
I exhale slowly, chilled by every small bump sprouting on my limbs.
“Oh crap,” he murmurs as the car hums to life. “You’re shivering like crazy. Come here.”
He hugs his arms around me, but I don’t deserve his comfort.
