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Chapter Three

"So walk me through a day in the life of Brooke Carter," Nate said later in the day. He was fiddling with a video camera that looked like something from outer space.

"A day in my life?" I asked. He looked up with a grin.

"Is there another Brooke Carter around here somewhere that I should know about?" he asked. I made a face.

"Point taken. Follow me."

We hopped off the stage and made our way to the busses. I opened the door to mine and climbed up. Nate was right behind me. When I turned around he had the camera pointed at me.

"Is that on?" I asked.

"Maaaybe," he said. "Walk me through your day," he reminded me.

"Okay. My day," I said. I ran my sweaty palms along my thighs as if I was preparing for a marathon. I turned around and headed down the hall.

"My day starts here," I said. I opened the door to my bedroom. "I never have a set time that I get to go to sleep so my wake up time always changes," I explained. I was glad that I had made my bed this morning, even though I noticed a few pathetic lumps as I stood there.

"What's sleeping on a bus like?" Nate asked.

"At first it was horrible. I woke up with every single bump. But now it doesn't bother me. You get used to it."

"That's good to know," Nate said softly. I forced myself not to look at his eyes. It was almost like he was a male Medusa. What would you even call that? Men-usa?

"So what happens when Sleeping Beauty wakes up?" he asked.

"Trust me, I'm not Sleeping Beauty," I said with a laugh. I brushed by him being careful not to get an extreme close-up on the camera. I walked back into the hall and opened the door to the bathroom.

"After I wake up, I spend a long time in here. The shower is always cold, but it works and that's what matters. I brush my teeth and get ready for the day."

"Where's all your makeup?"

Nate looked like he was expecting a stack of large boxes with various weapons of mass beaut-struction.

"I usually don't wear much makeup when I'm on the bus or even when we stop to eat," I explained. "I get slathered in enough of it for the concert."

I saw Nate's finger run along the top of the camera. A second later, he lowered it.

"You wore makeup this morning," he said with a smile. "You're wearing it now."

I blushed. "Well, yeah, but I was, er...that was for um..."

His eyes sparkled. Damn! Why did I look at the eyes!

"Moving on," he said lightly. He lifted the camera back up and pressed the button.

"So what do you do to pass the time on the bus?" he asked. We both stepped out of the bathroom.

"Well, my dad's with me," I said. I tapped his bunk and headed into the living area. "We usually play video games or I start going over new music. Of course, in a week, my tutor will arrive. I'll have a four hour school session each morning and then two hours of independent study."

"Do you like having a tutor better or do you prefer the traditional high school experience?"

I sat down on the couch. Nate sat down on the coffee table. Our knees were touching.

"What was the question?" I asked dumbly.

"I asked if you like having a tutor better or if you prefer the traditional high school experience."

"Oh. Let's see..."

I licked my lips and silently cursed myself. I had just devoured the last of my lipgloss.

"I like both of them for different reasons. I like my tutor because I learn at my own pace. When I went back to school in the spring, I was actually ahead of my classes," I said. "But, high school is nice because like you said, it's just the experience of it."

Nate grinned. "Will you be going back for your senior year?"

I smiled. "I'll go back in March when the tour is over. My parents double-checked before I left and the school guaranteed me that I could walk at graduation as long as I pass their graduation exam in April with the rest of my classmates."

"You're the oldest in your family right?"

"Yeah. Dad's totally excited. He always told me his biggest wish was to see us in our cap and gown. He never got to do it himself so it makes it even more exciting for me to be the first one to get to do that for him."

Nate paused the camera and put it down beside him. I suddenly felt dissected. But in a good way.

"That's really sweet. No wonder all those magazines call you the American Honey of music."

I laughed. "You can't believe half the stuff magazines say," I pointed out.

"You're right, but something tells me all the good things they say about you are true."

"Well, I--"

"What's going on?"

Nate's head swiveled. I looked up. Dad was standing on the top bus step. The door was open behind him.

"Nate's filming what I do every day," I explained.

"The camera's not on," dad pointed out.

"We're taking a break."

Dad ran a hand through his hair and smiled.

"Well it's a beautiful day. It's not nearly as hot here as it was in North Carolina. I'm thinking two young kids need fresh air. C'mon out of that musty bus."

Dad started waving at us like he was directing plane traffic. Nate looked at me and winked before turning back to dad.

"You're right," Nate said. "Brooke and I can continue this later."

"What else do you have left to film?" dad asked suspiciously.

"Just what she does before a show."

"Her dressing room is off limits," dad said casually. He made a big show of studying his nails.

"That's okay," Nate said breezily. It was like he was wearing an invisible dad shield. "I think the fans can figure out what happens in a dressing room."

Dad nodded. "Of course. Because that's all that happens in my daughter's dressing room. She gets dressed."

My eyes widened in horror. I watched Nate walk up to dad. Dad stepped aside so Nate could head down. He turned and smiled at me.

"See ya later Brooke. Thanks for the tour."

I couldn't say anything. He disappeared. I looked up at dad.

"Seriously?" I asked. Dad held up his hands.

"I'm being helpful!"

I snorted. "You're being nosy."

Dad smiled. He came over and sat beside me. I put my feet up on the coffee table while he grabbed our video game controllers.

"You're right," he admitted after a couple seconds. "I am being nosy. But you really can't blame me. I dreaded you turning sixteen. It's like someone flipped a switch and made you a babe magnet."

I groaned. "I'm not a babe magnet."

Dad turned on the TV. House of 1,000 Corpses flashed onto the screen. We both held our guns aloft and clicked to start the game.

"Believe what you want, BooBoo," dad said as he killed the first zombie. "But these guys are flocking to you like bees to honey."

"I know you mean well dad," I said. I watched a zombie head fall to the ground. "But Nate's just doing his job."

Dad sighed. "I know, but it's hard. Your mom was only doing her job and look what happened."

I laughed. "I'm not going to fall for my techie, dad."

"That's not what it looked like when I walked in," he said. A woman screamed on the screen as dad just barely missed her to get to a rabid vampire bat.

I ran out of ammo. A claw came out of nowhere and attacked me. Dad flicked me some extra bullets. I started the hunt back up.

"He does have gorgeous eyes," I said softly.

"You do realize that's not helping your case, right?" dad asked.

My character jumped in front of dad's and saved him from being eaten.

"I'm going to keep it strictly professional," I said. Dad let out a noise that sounded like a half grunt, half snort.

"Just remember what I said. Your dressing room is off limits."

"I guess we'll just do it under the stage then," I said lightly.

Dad dropped the gun on the coffee table.

"BROOKLYN!"

I paused the game and rolled over on the couch. I pressed my bare feet up on his shoulder and kicked playfully.

"I'm kidding!" I said. Dad grabbed my foot and started tickling the undersides like he used to when I was little. I let out a squeal. After a minute, he let me go. I grabbed my gun and we both turned towards the TV.

"Ready?" dad asked.

I lifted the gun up to my eyes and put on my game face.

"Ready."