"Do you want your guests to think they've stumbled into a high school dance?" she asked me. I made a face at her.
"No, mom, you don't get it. It wouldn't be like that!" I insisted, exasperated. She sat back in her chair with her arms folded in front of her, staring at me.
"You're going to embarrass yourself, Megan, and our family. Not to mention Taylor. What will he think? He's marrying a teeny-bopper!" she stated. I clenched my teeth.
"Mom, Tay knows that I want a DJ and he's fine with it. He doesn't think anything less of me," I informed her curtly. "Do you say that just to piss me off?"
"Megan Rose!" my mother gasped. I rolled my eyes and pushed my chair away from the table.
"Don't act all surprised, mother. You've heard me cuss before," I commented. I went upstairs into my room and picked up my telephone, then dialed. The phone rang a few times before the other end was picked up.
"Hello?" A male voice answered. I was a little startled, knowing for sure that Willow had two female roommates.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I think I might have the wrong number. Is this Willow Carter's dorm room?" I asked.
"Yes. Who is calling?" the man asked shortly.
"This is her friend Megan in Tulsa," I told him, trying to sound friendly although his rudeness was starting to get on my nerves.
"Oh, well, she can not talk to you right now. Can I take a message?"
A startled look crossed my face as I asked the man to tell her that I'd called, and then he hung up. I looked at the receiver for a moment before replacing the phone on its base.
"Some girl," he mumbled, flipping through a magazine. I stopped drying my hair and gave him a stern look.
"Marc…"
"Okay, okay. It was… Marie or Megan or something. Some girl from Tulsa," he told me, annoyed. Confusion clouded my gaze.
"Megan. Why didn't you come get me? I needed to talk to her," I told him.
"Because. You were busy."
"Busy? I was drying my hair! Marc, seriously…"
"Jesus, I didn't know it was that important, okay? If I knew you would bitch me out, I would never have answered the phone!" Marc yelled, anger rising in his voice. I flinched a little at his tone, and gazed down at the carpet beneath my bare feet.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you angry," I said softly.
"Like hell you didn't. You always do this! Do you never tire of acting like a stupid child?" he snapped at me, standing up and walking over to me. I was unaware that I was backing away from him until I was pressed up against the wall. I dropped the towel that I had been using when Marc grabbed my wrists roughly. "Because I really do get tired of hearing you whine and complain."
"I'm sorry, I-"
"Yes, yes, you're sorry. You are always sorry. But sorry doesn't excuse what you do," he said coldly, his grip increasing on my wrists and pushing me harder against the wall. I avoided his eyes.
"Ow, Marc, please! You're hurting me," I told him, trying to keep my voice low. Marc looked down at our hands and squeezed tighter, then let go suddenly. He looked back up at me and his eyes went wide.
"Oh, darling, forgive me. I did not realize, I… You just make me so angry sometimes! I do no mean to hurt you. Come here." He pulled me into his arms and hugged me, murmuring excuses over the top of my head as he stroked my wet hair, all the while never apologizing to me. "Let me fix it."
"No, it's okay. Just let me-"
"No, I must fix it! You know I love you, right? I would never hurt you, Willow, you know that right?" he asked in almost a panic. He put his hand under my chin and pulled my head up, forcing me to look up into his face. I nodded a little, to try and get him to just leave me alone. Instead, my positive answer only encouraged him further and he crushed my lips with his in a forceful kiss. I tried to protest and pull away from him, but he only held me tighter. I managed to get my hands up between us and pushed him away from me.
"Don't, Marc. Look, my wrists are okay, see? I'm fine," I insisted, showing him that I was okay, although my wrists were turning a slight shade of red from the grip he'd had on me. Marc took my hands and attempted to drag me back over to the couch.
"No, let me make it right. Let me make it up to you. I love you, Willow. I need you…" I struggled against him, but he was stronger than I was. "Why do you never tell me that? Do you love me?"
"Y-yes," I stammered, fear creeping into the far reaches of my mind.
"Tell me. Say it to me. Tell me you love me," he insisted, pulling me closer and forcing me down onto the couch.
"Marc, please-"
"Say it!" he demanded loudly. I took a shaky breath and looked up into his face, panic taking over me. He didn't look like the same person suddenly, and I knew that I had to get away from him.
"Get off of me," I told him in a surprisingly calm voice.
"Tell me, Willow. I know you love me. Just tell me," he pleaded, his eyes boring into mine, taunting and daring me to defy him. I struggled against him and he moved his leg to kneel over me.
"I'll tell you, just let me go," I negotiated. Marc let go of my left wrist and reached up to brush his fingers down the side of my face.
"So young, so beautiful. You can have everything you ever dreamed of. Money, power, fame. Just tell me you love me, and we can get married. You want that? You will be my pretty little wife," he said softly. I felt tears prickling my cheeks and hadn't realized that I'd been crying.
"No, I don't want that. I want you to let me go. Just please, let me go right now, and I'll forget all about this," I told him. Marc continued to look at me dreamily for a few moments before his face scrunched up and his hand snuck around to grab the back of my head. I winced.
"No? No! How dare you? I offer you the best life there can be, and you say no?" He pulled hard on my hair and I arched my back to try to let up on the pain. "You do not want to marry me because there is another man, yes?"
"No! There is only you. I swear it!" I argued. He seemed to be thinking my words over, and I took this as a sign of him letting down. "Please don't do this. Please let me go."
"How do I not know you are lying to me?" he asked suddenly. He looked down into my eyes, then smiled vilely. I turned away from him. "If you are truthful, and there is no other man, then you will still be a virgin."
He reached for the knot that held my robe together and I pushed him away, panicking. "No, stop it. You're scaring me Marc, just stop."
"You are hiding something. You are a liar!" he shrieked, grabbing both of my wrists and pinning them down against me.
"No, I wouldn't lie to you," I insisted.
"Then do not struggle…" he leered, giving me a cold look. "And do not scream."
We had just gotten back from a string of magazine interviews in Miami, and my father was checking our messages at the hotel's front desk, when we were mobbed. You'd think that teenyboppers would calm down as they got older, but no. A group of about 15 screaming girls rushed at Ike, Tay, and me. What followed was a mad chase until we eventually ducked into a janitorial closet that had been accidentally left opened. Ike was the last one in, and he pulled the door closed behind us.
"Oh man, that was nuts," Tay commented, catching his breath. I grinned.
"And whose idea was it that we didn't need security at the hotel this time?" I teased him. Taylor made a nasty face at me.
"Excuse me for misjudging our Miami fans," he quipped. We both looked at Isaac, who was fumbling with the door.
"Uh… Houston? We have a problem," he announced. Feeling in a goofy mood, I grinned.
"Houston? Ike, I don't know where you are, but we're in Miami," I cracked, giggling. Ike turned to me with an annoyed look.
"Duh, Zac, I know where we are. Haven't you ever seen Apollo 13? You know, that line where…"
"Ike, Ike, chill. I was just giving you a hard time," I told him, putting my hand on his shoulder. Tay pushed between us to the door.
"What's wrong?"
"Um… well, see, I didn't really notice it before because we were in such a rush, and it didn't really click that the door was left open for a reason, and-"
"Any day now, Ike!" I exclaimed.
"We're locked in," he summed up. All three of us were silent for a second, looking at each other, before I burst out laughing. Ike and Tay shot annoyed looks in my direction as I grabbed my sides. "Zac, shut up, it isn't funny."
"Yeah! Yeah it is!" I gasped. "Oh man, I wish we'd gotten this on video tape! We could put it in our documentary: Hanson: Escapades in A Hotel!"
"Come on, dude. Stop laughing," Taylor prompted. I started to calm myself, and resorted to just little snorts and giggles at our situation. Ike stepped back and started to look around the tiny little closet, which just barely fit the three of us in it. He looked up at the ceiling the see if there was a vent, which there was. Taylor, on the other hand, decided to take matters into his own hands. Err, feet, rather.
"Help!" he shrieked, starting to kick and pound on the door. "Let me out of here!"
This just caused me to laugh harder, so I huddled in the corner while my brothers attempted to get us out of the janitorial "prison." After about 10 minutes, they gave up in hopes that a janitor would stumble upon us soon enough.
"Hey, well, at least those girls can't find us," I piped in, trying to lighten the mood. "And it isn't that bad. We have a light."
I motioned up at the bare light bulb that was hanging in the center of the room. All three of us looked up, and the light bulb flickered, then went out. I heard someone sigh.
"That is so typical," Taylor commented dryly. Ike snorted lightly, then laughed harder. I grinned, trying not to laugh. "Yeah, Ike. Keep laughing, buddy. Because this is just so damn hysterical."
"It is!" Isaac insisted. He eventually calmed down, and we sat in the dark for a few more minutes before we heard voices in the hall outside. We all perked up at the sound of keys jingling in the lock, and then the door swung open. A janitor, the hotel manager, and our father all peered in at us. We all smiled innocently.
"Uh, hi," I greeted. "Anyone else up for a game of Sardines?"
"I miss you too, babe," I replied. Reagan laughed.
"Don't call me that," she chided. I smiled.
"Okay, sorry. So, how has life in Tulsa been without me there to make it interesting?" I asked, sitting on the floor with my back against one of the beds. Ike and Tay each had one of the twin beds in the room, leaving me with a cot.
"Lonely…" Reagan said. "When are you coming back again?"
"In 6 days. Not that long, I promise. We're just going up north to Boston from here, and then to NYC for a couple of days, then on to home. We'll be back together in no time, I promise."
"Good. My aunt and uncle and cousins are coming here next week to visit for a while, and my mother wants to show them all around. She's got their days packed with things to do, and I don't have to go, so I'll be all alone…" she trailed off, and I could tell she was smiling.
"Aww, you poor baby. Won't your father be there to keep you company?" I asked.
"No, he couldn't get time off from work that week," she told me. "So that leaves just me… and an empty house…"
"Do I sense an invitation for another party coming up?" I asked, smiling. Reagan laughed.
"Sure, if that's what you want to call it," she agreed.
"You throw the best parties, you know," I joked. Reagan laughed. We talked for a little while longer before I had to go get ready for dinner. We said our good-byes, and I lingered on the phone for a moment.
"Reagan?"
"Yes?"
"I really do miss you, and I'll see you soon. I love you."
"Yeah?" a voice greeted.
"Um, hi. I'm looking for Willow Carter," I spoke into the speaker.
"Yeah, okay. Come on up." There was a loud buzzing noise, and I opened the door. There was a short, shapely girl waiting in the doorway for me when I reached Will's dorm number. She smiled at me. "Hey there. You must be Isaac. I'm Mandy."
"Hi," I said, shaking her hand. She moved out of the way to let me into the apartment.
"Willow is in her room, that one," she told me, pointing to a door across the living room/kitchen area. I went over and knocked lightly and, not getting an answer, opened the door. Willow was sitting Indian style on her bed, a thick textbook and a notebook in her lap. She looked up, startled, when I entered the room.
"Isaac, hey," she said, putting the books aside and standing up. She came over and gave me a warm hug. "I'm so glad you're here."
"Me too. You sounded a little stressed out on the phone. Is everything okay?" I asked, sitting beside her on her bed. She nodded and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah, everything is fine. I just needed… someone. An old friend, a familiar face, you know?" she told me. I nodded, clutching my hands together on my lap. I looked around the room awkwardly, and everything just seemed so different than I'd thought. I felt like I was treading on foreign territory, knowing that all of these things were affected by Marc Conroy, opposed to her room in Chandler, OK where he had no influence at all. Will cleared her throat a little. "So, what are you up to? Sick of promos yet?"
I smiled. "You have no idea," I said. "We're going home on Friday, and I can't wait to just sleep in my own bed and see all my friends again. And my family… agh, you know I love them, but traveling with 8 other people 24/7 is just making me crazy."
Willow smiled. "Woe is you, living the life of a rock star."
"Oh yes, I know. Pity me, pity me," I joked, grinning. My pager went off at that moment, and I checked it. It was my dad; we were scheduled to make an appearance on some entertainment segment for the news that afternoon. I looked at Willow ruefully. "It's dad… I gotta go."
"Oh, well, duty calls. Thank you for coming to visit me," Willow said, standing up with me. She smiled. "I'll see you at the wedding in a couple months, I guess."
"Yeah. You'd better be there," I joked, leaning down to give her a hug. I went to pull away, but Will held me tighter.
"Don't go just yet," she whispered. I nodded and closed my eyes, holding her. A second later, the bedroom door flew open and I broke away from Willow, startled. A man with a familiar face stood in the doorway, staring wide eyed at us. Will stepped away from me, then reached up and gently twisted a strand of her hair. "Marc… you're here early."
"I thought that I would surprise you. The surprise is on me, however," he said in a low voice. I cleared my throat a little, and offered my hand to him.
"Hey there," I greeted. He looked at me with cold eyes.
"Marc, you remember Isaac Hanson. You stayed with his aunt and uncle in Tulsa-" Willow started.
"Yes, I remember you," Marc said. I awkwardly dropped my hand and looked over at Willow.
"Well, I better go. I'll see you in a few weeks," I told her.
"Let me walk you out," Will insisted, stepping forward. March grabbed her arm to stop her.
"It is a small apartment, he can find his own way out," he said. Will just looked at me, and I nodded, before turning and leaving the room. Once I was out of the building and back on the street, I paused and looked up at the third floor where the apartment was. Something about the way he treated her just now made me wonder, but the shrill beeping of my pager once again made me turn away and hurry back towards my hotel.
"Tay, have you seen my car keys? I can't find my keys!" Megan shrieked, flying past me in the hallway. I had been watching her scramble around the house all morning, frantically trying to make sure everything was set and in order. I sighed a little.
"Meg, check the key rack in the front hall," I called to her.
"I did already! They aren't there!" she replied. I went into the front hall and peered at the key rack. Her keys were dangling there, and I picked them up. Meg was in the sunroom, tearing the couch apart looking for them, and I dangled the prize in front of her. Meg grinned at me. "Oh, great! Where did you find them?"
"On the key rack," I informed her. Meg blushed a little and took her keys.
"Oh. I guess I was in a little bit of a panic," she said. I put my arms around her and smiled down at her.
"Megan, we're getting married in two weeks. You can't stress out, that's against the rules," I informed her gently. Meg smiled a little and nodded.
"Okay, I'll relax," she promised. Then she pulled away. "After I go run a few errands…"
"Nope, no errands," I insisted, reaching over and snatching the keys out of her hands again. "Mom!"
"Taylor!" my mother called back from the kitchen. She poked her head into the sunroom. "You screamed?"
"Will you please take Megan out somewhere and help her relax? I'm afraid she's gonna have a nuclear meltdown and, well, to be honest I just don't have time to clean up a mess like that," I teased, giving Meg a comedic smile. She scowled at me playfully. Mom laughed.
"Well, okay. I know this great masseuse…" she trailed off, leading Megan away for an afternoon of relaxation. I smiled and sighed, then fell back onto the couch. A second later, Zac came tearing through the room and into the kitchen.
"I'm going to Reagan's, bye!" he called. I jumped up and ran after him.
"Wait, Zac, don't you think that you and Reagan are spending a little too much time together?" I asked, catching up with him at the kitchen door. He turned to me with a funny look on his face.
"No, why?" he replied. I shrugged.
"I don't know. It just seems like you're always going over there, or she's coming over here. Don't you have any other friends?"
"Well, yeah. But I just like hanging out with Reagan more than I do with them. Is that a problem? I didn't know it was such a concern to you, Taylor," he said.
"Do you like spending more time with her now because of the whole sex issue?" I asked bluntly. Zac stared at me with wide eyes.
"No! No, that has nothing to do with this! Taylor, don't even think you can begin to understand my relationship with Reagan…"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. I'm not trying to pick a fight with you, Zac. I was just concerned, that's all," I explained gently. Zac just shook his head.
"I don't know why you are. I'm fine. Me and Reagan are fine. Save your concern for someone who needs it," he said curtly, then walked away. I started after him, surprised by his attitude towards me. I shook my head and headed towards my father's den to make a few more phone calls.
"I'm so glad you decided to come early, Willow. I think I'd have gone mad if I had to spend the next few days without a friend nearby," I told Willow as I drove out of the airport parking lot. She smiled at me from the passenger seat.
"It's really no problem, I'm happy to be back," she replied. I glanced into the rearview mirror at the passenger in the back seat.
"So, Mr. Conroy, are you down here on business?" I asked him. Willow's boyfriend, Marc, nodded his answer.
"Yeah, he's got some accounts to go over with Diana's brother," Will explained with more detail. I smiled weakly, feeling awkward suddenly at the tension between Will and Marc.
"Oh," was all I said. The rest of the car ride was mostly in silence. We dropped Marc off at Willow's house in Chandler, then she and I headed into Tulsa to pick up our dresses for the wedding. When we got to the store, the lady behind the counter disappeared into the back room to get our dresses. I leaned against the counter and smiled at Willow. "I really appreciate you helping me out with this last minute stuff, Will. Not having any siblings, especially sisters, makes me appreciate the help of good friends even more."
"I know what you mean. I only have Brad, but he's great. And Olivia is like a sister to me. When she started out as my tutor, I got kind of jealous of her because she was so nice and friendly and everyone liked her. And when I got to know her better we just kind of clicked. Now that she's married to Brad, I guess she is really my sister," Will said.
"I'm so excited to be gaining such a big family. I mean, I'm going from having no brothers and sisters to having six!" I exclaimed, grinning. Will laughed.
"Yeah, but you can't ask for better siblings than the Hansons." I nodded my agreement, and we stood quietly for a few moments before Will turned to look at me. "Meg, are you nervous about the wedding?"
I hesitated a moment before bringing myself to return her look and answer. "Well, kind of. I think so. I'm just worried that everything will change."
"It will change. It will all get better," Will stated.
"Well, I'm afraid that it will get worse. That I will screw up or something. I mean, marrying into the life of a famous rock star isn't as easy just marrying some Ordinary Joe," I explained.
"I don't think you have anything to be afraid of, Meg. Taylor loves you. It shows every time you two are together, and even when you aren't. He looks at you the same way that Walker looks at Diana, with love and affection and admiration."
"The same way Isaac looks at you?" I asked quietly.
Will looked startled by my words. A thoughtful, lost look crossed her face for a second before she replied. "No, not the way Isaac looks at me. He and I are just friends. That's all."
"Are you sure?" I blurted without even thinking. I mean, as happy at Will and Marc said they were together, I always thought that Willow and Isaac were something special, something that would never be torn apart. "Don't you love him?"
"Well yes, in a way I do," Will told me, choosing her words carefully. "He's the best friend I've ever had, and I will always love him for that."
"No, I mean, do you love him? You know, that heart-pounding, breath-taking, gut-wrenching, light-headed kind of love?" I asked, intrigued by her reaction. Will avoided my eyes and shrugged a little.
"I don't know," she mumbled. Just then the lady came back carrying the boxes with our dresses, and the subject was dropped at that.
<--- Back
<--<--- Home
<--- Installment Eight
---> Installment Ten