“I’ve been following your success since the show.”

Something about this man was unsettling. He looked at me like he knew me well. Like we were acquainted, had a history.

We had never discussed what we would do if someone creepy came to one of these tour stops. I wished there was a code word I could pass down the line, so that mall security could materialize out of thin air and whisk Jerry away. Instead, I signed “Cass,” slid the photo away from me, and looked at him dumbly. He pointed at my flowers. Still in a soft voice, one now laced with rage, he said, “I used my miles just to see you again. You inconsiderate bitch.”

Had he shouted, or spoken harshly, I’m sure the other girls or people in the line would have snapped to attention, but his voice was so low that it probably seemed like Jerry and I were having a normal conversation. Someone next in line jostled him, and Jerry ignored the other Gloss girls, almost running into the news cameraman in his rush to leave. I wondered how else that could have played out when I heard a shriek nearby.

Merry was standing and ripping up a photo in front of the teenager who’d preceded Jerry. Tiny pieces rained down onto the table like confetti. “Get out of my face,” she said, loud enough that I could hear her in the din.

Rose was trying to shush her while Yumi hastily scraped the confetti pieces into a pile with her hands, away from any curious eyes. In the crowd, the cameraman squinted into the eyepiece, aiming the lens. Merry shook out her hands, smoothed her clothes, and sat down again. Baffled, I followed suit, and soon the easy chatter resumed in the food court.

I flicked my smile back on as the next fan demanded my attention. The Sharpie felt greasy in my fingers. “What’s your name?” I asked.

When we got back to the bus, my body was shaking so hard our driver, Gus, had to help me climb the steep steps. “You okay, dear?” he asked, dark eyes warm with concern. I gave a half-smile and nod, but rather than congregate in the back with the other girls to discuss what had happened with Merry, I lay down in my narrow bed, took off my shoes, and covered my eyes with the pillow. I listened to my heart beating in my ears and breathed in and out slowly.

I hid in my bunk until my hands stopped quaking; the bus quieted down as people dropped off to sleep. I cracked the blackout curtain on the window, and the night scene rotated a repeat of the same visual: streak of a street lamp, painted white lines on the black road, dark clumps of trees on the other side of the divider. We were going to zip through the night on a seven-hour cruise and get to the next stop.

The tiny reading light clipped to my bunk illuminated a circle about as wide as a coffee cup. I slipped my journal out of the Velcro pouch on the wall and uncapped a ballpoint pen. No sooner had I written one sentence than my phone buzzed: Alex.

“Where next?” St. Louis.

“So close 2me!” Chicago isn’t close.

“Closer than L.A.” That was true, I conceded in my head.

I realized then that I really needed to talk to him about the signing today. I was still so shaken up, and a friendly voice would soothe me.

He answered on the first ring. “Cass? You okay? You never call.” There was tinny laughter in the background, but it cut out when he waited for me to speak.

“It’s been a weird day. I thought I could use some friend therapy. Are you busy?”

“Nah, just watching Leno.”

“Thinking about L.A.?” I teased.

“Imagining the beach and sunny weather. It’s kind of cold and damp today.”

“Oh.” I dragged a thumbnail across the page I’d been writing on.

“What’s up?”

“Just . . . weirdness. I know I should be grateful for what’s going on right now—for me, for the group—but it just boggles my mind how people can be so in-your-face, you know? I feel a little bit like a zoo animal. People expecting so much from me, people I’ve never met. Some guy today told me that he followed me since Sing It.”

A guffaw on the other end of the line: “Well, that’s good, right?”

“No, Alex. Listen to me. Like, he was acting so focused and so intense. I’d never even seen the guy before.” Deep breath. “It genuinely scared me.”

“You tell anyone?”

“I’m telling you.”

“He sounds like a creep. You should’ve had security throw him out.”

“I wasn’t thinking. I mean, I was, but it happened so fast, and then Merry started shouting at a guy—a different one—and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I hate to say this, Cass, but this is going to keep happening. Your star is going to get bigger and more weirdos are going to fall in love with you. I wish I could protect you.”

My eyes were open in the darkness. The cubicle was so small and narrow, but it didn’t feel small and narrow because I couldn’t see the edges. Rolled up in my little cocoon, with the vibration of the diesel engine and bouncing tires beneath me, I imagined being in a warm, safe space with Alex, the one friend who still made time for me despite our new lives. “I wish you were here with me.”

And I meant it. Alex gave a laugh I’d never heard before, like he’d breathed from low in his throat into the mouthpiece of the phone. “Yeah,” he whispered.

There was a twinge. A small, short one, at the base of my spine. I didn’t know if I missed my friend or if I missed Alex, specifically.

“Yeah,” I whispered, smiling, puzzled but pleased.

After we’d hung up, I unfolded the privacy curtain from my bed to brush my teeth. I jostled my way down the narrow aisle as the bus rumbled along.

Rose bumped into me at the sink, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, and leaned against the attached cabinets as she sipped and watched me brush.

“Who were you talking to?”

I gave her a quick glance but didn’t answer.

“My bunk is right under yours. I usually can’t hear anything with all the bus noise going on, but I couldn’t fall asleep, I felt so grimy. And I heard your voice yammering on. So who was it?” She crept closer and wiggled her eyebrows at me mischievously. “Could it have been . . . a certain . . . Monsieur St. James?”

Her remark landed flatly; it felt more personal than a probe into my romantic interests, but I didn’t know why she would care. I rolled my eyes and pointed at the toothbrush in my mouth.

“Look, chicas, you’re on the local news,” Veronica, our sound technician, called from the back of the bus. She and Yumi sat cross-legged on the bench facing the mounted TV. Rose and I stepped to the side and watched as the screen switched from the establishing outdoor shot of the mall we’d left earlier that day to one of the food court where we’d set up our stage. A quick pan of the tween audience, cheering; a few seconds of us dancing our choreography; a shot of Rose smiling wide at a young fan at the signing. A teenager’s face showed on the screen, her smiling mouth full of braces: I made my dad drive me and my sister.

The closed-captioning read: Not every Gloss girl was on her best behavior tonight. The cameraman had been filming down from an elevated spot, so he caught Merry’s outburst. There was the back of Nick’s head; he gave an 8 x 10 piece of paper to Merry to sign, and her face changed from smiling to hostile as soon as she saw it. That’s when she stood and shredded it. But for the most part, it was a big success. A man’s face, eyes highlighted with round-rimmed glasses, and my heart jumped: Jerry. I came in from out of town to meet them. I know I’m a little old but I know talent when I hear it.