Playing For Keeps by Dani Weston Page B

the way Jimmy Keats made my head spin. That part, she got. She just was Bea: awesome and excited and supportive.
    “Okay, so first of all, I love you, stupid girl. Second, I’m excited about this chance. Duncan called me. He sounded…encouraging. Third…” she hesitated. I could hear her nibbling on her nails through the phone. “I’m not too sure what to say about number three. Do you even like Jimmy Keats?”
    “How could I like him? I don’t know him. I sort of despise everything he’s done in his career.”
    “Riiiight, but you connected over your upbringings. And he did say he wants to move in a new direction, stylistically. There’s a real human behind all the hype…which is something I had to figure out, you know? My celeb crush was stupid--.”
    “No, it wasn’t.”
    “Well, it wasn’t real. Just like how your opinion of their music being worthless wasn’t real. I mean, maybe he did what he had to do in order to make it to a place where he could do what he wants to do. I think…sometimes…that people call other people sellouts because they’re jealous. Because they can’t make it, themselves. But if it’s a means to an end, who cares?”
    “That makes sense. I don’t know if I was ever jealous like that…or maybe that was part of it. That, and being scared to make this leap.”
    “All that doesn’t matter now. The question now is: what are we going to do? What are you going to do?”
    “About Jimmy Keats?”
    “Yeah, about Jimmy Keats . You crack me up, Court. I’m pretty sure you won’t use just his first name because you think his last name gives you distance.”
    I thought about every time I’d said his name. His real name. The one even Bea didn’t call him by. Was it wrong not to tell her about it? Was I keeping a secret for Jimmy Keats, or was I keeping a secret from my best friend?
    How much, really, did I like knowing that little tidbit about him when everyone else knew something else?
    A lot.
    “Maybe,” I admitted. “But so?”
    Bea clucked her tongue. “So, it means you haven’t decided what you want to do about him. Because if you were sure it’s going to stay completely professional, you wouldn’t feel threatened by calling him Jimmy.”
    “Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy,” I said, mockingly. But Bea was right. I had to force each syllable out to keep his name from sticking in my throat. And when I thought his real name? It was music in my mind. Kevin . It was his fault for being so gorgeous. For exuding wave upon wave of confidence. Of making me feel things I’d never felt before.
    My head began to throb. I pressed my palm to it.
    “Let’s figure out one thing at a time, okay? We need to get Ladies in Waiting together to discuss this. Then we need to call Duncan Prospect and give them our answer.”

7.
     
     
    We met with Kaitlin. While it didn’t take long for everyone to agree we should call Duncan Prospect and see where this takes us, there was an air of cautious optimism when we disbanded again. I asked Bea to call for the appointment, because I still wasn’t sure what to do about the way Jimmy Keats made me feel.
    I was definitely sure, though, that I wasn’t going to let him, or any man, get in the way of either my friendships or my band. Besides, Bea had always been our traditional mouthpiece. I wrote the songs and sang, Kaitlin held down the beat—the boss on stage—so Bea needed her own special role. I realized I’d taken that away from her a little bit when Jimmy Keats approached me, not her.
    “Do you think we should go shopping before we get there or something?” Bea flopped on my bed, scattering my class notes. I pressed my hands over my ears to drown out her question because if I was going to keep up with my classes and this band, and still be a decent sorority sister and all that, I needed to work every possible moment. But my hands couldn’t keep out her excited laughter.
    “Let’s go shopping!” she yelled in my direction.
    I narrowed my