Chapter 2: Chap. 2
My eyebrows flew up. "Absolutely not!"
"Why not?"
"Because I have soccer mom. Everything I've ever wanted is falling into place right now. I can't just take off for the summer."
"Candace," my dad said, coming into the room where we were talking. "This conversation is going to have to wait. I'm on the phone with Ellen, and I need to cross reference with your schedule for Connor."
"I'm talking with Katelyn about going on the tour with us this summer," mom said, smiling at me. "Maybe this can wait?"
He sighed. "You go and speak with Ellen and I'll speak with Katelyn."
A smile blossomed across my mom's face. She loved it when my dad and I actually talked. "Alright."
Mom left, and my dad turned to face me.
"Where were you and mom in discussing the tour?" dad asked, sitting down across the room.
"I was telling her I didn't want to go because I have soccer," I explained, not really expecting him to understand.
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. This is a grand opportunity to tour the United States, your soccer things can wait."
"My soccer things? Dad, this is important to me, just like Connor's singing is important to him."
"I'm sure it's important to you Katelyn, but we have a real opportunity here."
"I have a real opportunity here too. I've been invited to the Nike Showcase and to play with the LSU Women's Soccer Team dad. I have a chance to play college soccer. That's what I've dreamed of my entire life."
"Katelyn," dad said. "Let's be realistic here. The odds of playing Division 1 college soccer are very slim."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"You know that the sport can be very competitive-"
"When Connor told you he wanted to become a pop star, you supported him. You left your entire life to support him. And when I tell you I already have the opportunity to play college soccer, you tell me to be realistic? Is this some kid of joke?"
"I'm just trying to see all options here."
"I can't wait until I get to move out of this God awful house." I ran out of the room as he called after me. I ran upstairs, slamming my bedroom door behind me.
"Is he serious?" I called out. "Be realistic?" I took the nearest object to me and whipped it across my room.
I picked up my phone and punched in Jenica's number.
"So?" she asked. "Are we going to the Nike Showcase or what?"
"I'm sorry," I spat, sarcastically. "I'm not being realistic with my goals."
"What?"
"College soccer is very competitive," I mocked. "There's a slim chance that I'll make it."
She was silent for a few moments. "They said that to you?"
"What about the great Connor Jackson?" I shouted. "Mr. I Wanna Be a Pop Star?" 3
A knock came on my door.
"I'll be as loud as I want to!" I yelled.
"Okay?" Connor's voice called through my door.
"I've got to go," I muttered to Jenica. "It's the great and mighty one himself." I hung up, tossing my phone on my bed.
"What do you want?" I called.
"To talk."
"Well I'm not interested."
There was a clicking noise, and then my door opened. Connor came in, shutting and locking the door behind him.
"I have some pizza," he said, holding up the plate for me to see. "It's my peace offering." He placed it on my bed, crossing my room and picking up the picture frame I'd hurled.
"What do you want?"
"To take you to a party."
"Yeah right," I scoffed. "You don't even have enough room in your schedule to pee."
"I weaseled my way out of a tux fitting," he said, plopping down on my couch. "Tomorrow you, me, and Jenica are going to a party."
"No thanks."
"Why not?"
"Because for some of us, tomorrow night is a school night."
He scoffed. "So skip school."
"Yeah Connor, because life is just that simple."
He frowned at me. "What's got your panties in a wad?"
I bit into my pizza. "I'm not being realistic enough."
"What?"
"Didn't dad tell you? Playing college soccer isn't a realistic goal."
He raised an eyebrow at me. "I feel like I've missed the most important part of the movie and now I'm lost."
"It's nothing. I'm not going to a party with you. I'm sure Jenica will go if you ask her. Goodbye."
He stood up, crossing my room to lay across my bed, his head even with mine.
"I promise I'm a good listener," he said, flashing me his pearly white teeth. "If you give me a chance."
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Come on," he said, taking a bite of my pizza. "Try me."
I spent the next five minutes telling him about my tournament, about the LSU coach, about the Nike Showcase, and about dad's reaction.
"Well I already knew about the tour thing," he mused. "You'll probably hate me for this, but it was my idea. I can't imagine living in a tour bus with mom and dad for the entire summer." He shuddered. "The horror."
"I'm not even really upset about the tour."
"Dad's answer was definitely uncalled for. But he's under a lot of pressure right now, trying to organize a tour."
"Are you sticking up for him?"
"I'm just trying to make peace. Isn't that what I do best?"
"I don't want you to make peace. I want you to march down there and tell him it was wrong of him to try and crush my dreams just so I'd go along with yours."
He stood up, smiling at me. "How about we let things cool down for tonight, and we talk things over tomorrow?"
I let out a groan, but nodded in agreement.
He bent over and kissed my forehead. "I'd suggest taking a shower. You smell terrible."
"Gee thanks."
He laughed his way out of my room, and I could still hear him laughing down the hallway.
~*~
"Your driver is here to take you to school," Bethany's voice called through the intercom.
I headed downstairs, grimacing with each step. My sore body ached, and I considered just giving up and crawling back into bed.
Sitting in the kitchen was a Chick-Fil-A bag, a single sticky note attached to it and signed by my mom.
I smiled as I sipped on the lemonade, grabbing the bag to go.
Next to the bag was my Nike Showcase paperwork, completed and signed by dad. There was a personal check sitting next to it, signed by Connor.
I took the paperwork to go as well, sliding into the backseat of the car.
"Good morning Ms. Jackson," Richard said, sliding into the driver's seat.
"Good morning Richard," I answered, as I put the paperwork in my backpack. I immediately texted Jenica to let her know I was on my way while munching on my Chick-Fil-A.
"What time did Connor leave this morning?" I asked, as I buckled my seatbelt.
"4 AM," he answered. "He had a radio interview at 4:30."
I knew for a fact that Connor was up until 1 AM, because that's the time I got up to pee and he was on the phone with his fake supermodel girlfriend, arguing over the publicity stunt she'd pulled over in Paris.
I don't understand why he had to have a fake girlfriend. He hated her, and I'm pretty sure she hated him. They always argued, and she was always getting caught with other guys, especially when she was over in Europe. But my dad thought it was a good idea, so they continued to stay together.
My phone rang as we were around the corner from school, Connor's face popping up onto my screen.
"Hey," I said, answering the phone.
"Hey baby sis," he said, cheerfully.
"What's up?"
"How about you come down to the studio afterschool? I wrap up rehearsals around 4 and then we can go out for an early dinner."
I'd never come down to meet him at the studio before. There were too many paparazzi there, and my parents weren't too keen on me being in the spotlight.
"Don't worry about mom and dad, I'll deal with them. Please sis?"
I couldn't help but smile. "Maybe we'll get the early bird special."
He laughed. "I'll see you at 4." The line clicked dead.
"Have a good day Ms. Jackson," Richard said, as we pulled into school.
"Thanks," I said, hopping out of the car.
"Good morning Katelyn," Delaney said, sidling up next to me.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Good morning Delaney."
"You look cute today."
I looked down at my tournament t-shirt and sweats. "Thanks?"
"Wow Katelyn," Jessica said, joining Delaney and I, "I love what you did with your hair."
I reached up to touch my wet, messy bun.
These girls are pathetic.
"Beat it," Jenica said to the girls, grabbing my arm and pulling me away.
"Not so fast," I complained.
"Are you sore?" she teased, slowing down once we'd put some distance between us and them.
"Don't even play."
"Oh I know, I'm so sore I almost didn't get out of bed this morning."
"I'm so sore I didn't go on my daily run."
Her jaw dropped. "Katelyn Jackson didn't go on her daily run? What is this?"
"I know, it's shocking." I sat down on the fields with a groan.
"So any more news on the Showcase?" Jenica asked.
"You won't believe this," I said, as she sat down next to me. "Connor got my dad to sign the papers, and Connor paid the money."
"You have the best brother."
I couldn't help but smile. "Sometimes, but that's not all that happened last night."
"Uh-oh, what else happened?"
"My parents want me to tour with Connor this summer."
Jenica's jaw dropped. "But what about the team?"
"What about soccer in general?" I asked, with a groan. "But it's not really a choice. They've pretty much made up their minds and expect me to go along with it."
"Why is it so depressing over here?" Carla asked, stretching out across the field. "I mean, I know we're all incredibly sore, but at least we won the tournament!"
I laughed, and then groaned. "It hurts to laugh."
"It hurts to do everything," Lacey said, joining us. "My legs feel like they're going to fall off."
"Did you know that Marci's mom let her stay home?" Carla asked. "What a bitch."
"So did Kaley's mom," Jenica said. "And Taylor."
"I hate them all," Lacey said, shaking her head. "If I ever asked my mom to stay home because I was sore from soccer, she'd laugh at me."
"I've never asked," I said, with a shrug. "But I'm sure they wouldn't notice."
"You're lucky," Carla said.
"That's not lucky, that's called being the younger sister to the great Connor Jackson," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Speaking of the great Connor Jackson," Lacey said, wiggling her eyebrows at me.
"What?" I asked, laughing.
"That interview last night! Is he seriously thinking about a worldwide tour?"
"Yeah right," I huffed. "We're barely pulling together the US one."
"So where are you staying while your brother goes on tour?" Carla asked, flipping through her phone.
"I'm not."
Her eyes flickered over to me, her jaw dropping. "What do you mean you're not?"
"I'm going on tour with him this summer."
"You're leaving the team?" Lacey asked, her eyes wide. "You're our starting sweeper!"
"Trust me, it's not my decision," I said, with a sigh.
"We're going to miss you," Carla said, with a frown. "You're my favorite Captain."
"I won't tell Monica," I said, laughing.
The bell rang, and I slowly picked myself up off the ground, my body aching.
"What are you doing afterschool?" Jenica asked, as we headed to school.
"I'm going to Connor's rehearsals," I said, as we reached our lockers. "And then we're going out for dinner."
"He's playing nice," Jenica said, wiggling her eyebrows.
"I think he's getting antsy with all of the rehearsals and interviews and he needs a break."
"That would make sense."
"Oh!" I reached into my backpack and produced her VIP pass for this summer's show here in-town. "Here's your pass. This will get you into the show and backstage to hang with me."
She laughed. "Thanks Kate."
"Don't lose that; it's one of a kind."
"You mean like the last tour?"
We both laughed, linking arms as we headed to our Homeroom class.
~*~
"Thanks Richard," I called, hopping out of the car.
"My pleasure Ms. Jackson," he said, tipping his hat at me.
I headed inside the studio and upstairs to Connor's rehearsal space.
I could hear his song Shades before I even went in.
He and his choreographer, Christopher Kline, were blocking it.
Connor smiled and waved at me, and then managed to fall off the chair he was standing on.
"Sorry Chris," I said, laughing.
"It's fine, it was time to take 5 anyways," Christopher said, laughing as he helped Connor up.
"Isn't a little late in the game to still be blocking?" I asked, as Connor took a swig of Gatorade.
"Shades is the hardest and most intricate choreographed number," Connor explained, flipping his sweaty hair out of his face. "And it involves that damn chair."
"How many times have you fallen off of it?"
"6," Connor said, his cheeks turning red.
"6?"
"Just today."
"You're going to break your leg on that chair and dad's going to take your head off."
Connor laughed and took another swig of Gatorade. "I'd live for the day that dad tried to interfere with Chris's choreography."
"Let's get back to work!" Christopher said, with a smile.
"Is there any way I can Velcro myself to that chair?" Connor asked, as Chris turned on the music.
"I wish."
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