Chap. 1

"Excuse me?" a young girl said, a bright smile on her face.

"Yes?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at her.

"Can you take our picture?"

I looked up to see a life-sized cutout of Connor Jackson and a group of teenage girls eagerly waiting for me to take their picture next to him.

"Sure."

She handed me her iPhone, the newest edition of course, and went to pose next to the cutout alongside her friends.

I snapped a couple of different pictures before handing the phone back to her.

"Thank you," she gushed, her eyes bright with excitement.

"What's your favorite song?" I asked, unable to hide my smile.

"Shades!" All of the other girls giggled and nodded.

I held back the urge to roll my eyes. "Really?"

She nodded excitedly. "Do you listen to Connor Jackson?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Only every day."

"Katelyn, we're going to be late!" Jenica called, running up to me. She grabbed my arm and began to pull me to the exit of the store.

"It was nice meeting you!" I called over my shoulder, as I was being pulled out of the store.

"Who were those girls?" Jenica asked, as we climbed into the back of her mom's minivan.

"Connor Jackson fans."

"Too cute," she said, with a laugh.

"A couple of those girls fawning over that cutout were our age Jen."

"And I'd be one of them," Jenica said, with a dreamy smile.

"Gross!" I called, throwing one of my soccer cleats at her.

"Oh come on, even you have to admit he has a nice bod."

"You're disgusting."

She smirked at me and tossed my soccer cleat back.

"You girls stink," Mrs. Larkin said, shaking her head.

"We played two games this morning," Jenica said, laughing. "What do you expect us to smell like?"

"I didn't realize how terrible it was," she said, rolling down the windows and opening up the sunroof. "Luckily this is the last game."

"I really hope we win," I said, as we pulled into the parking lot. "I can't handle making it to the championship game and then losing."

"I can't handle being this incredibly sore for nothing," Jenica said, as we hopped out of the car.

"Where did you guys go?" Leslie asked, as we joined the team for pre-game warm-ups.

"The mall," I answered, stretching out my sore muscles.

"Did anybody smell you?" Coach Jefferson teased, as he walked by our stretching circle.

"I sure hope so," I answered, with a smirk.

We finished stretching, and the girls begin to pair off for passing and trapping drills.

Jenica came with me over to my soccer bag, juggling the soccer ball.

"Do I look burnt?" I asked, as I applied sunscreen to my face.

She inspected my face while I sprayed it on the rest of my body.

"You just look tan," she said, after a few moments.

"I really hope I don't have tan lines." I took the soccer ball from her and dribbled it back out to the field.

"You probably do have tan lines," she said, as we passed the ball.

"My mom is going to freak."

"Good thing they invented spray tans."

I rolled my eyes, juggling the ball while Coach Jefferson pulled Jenica to the side.

~*~

"Where's my midfield?" I called, as the offense began to penetrate my defense.

I looked at Coach Jefferson, who flashed me a one. One minute left in this tournament. One minute before we claim victory.

Haley cleared the ball, landing it right at Jenica's feet.

"Come on Jen!" I called out, using the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat off of my forehead.

She dribbled around the stopper before passing it off to the outside left wing, sprinting up the field as the wing chipped it over the defense.

"Use your head!" I screamed.

Jenica jumped up, her head connecting with the ball, and sending it into the corner of the goal.

I sprinted from my position as sweeper to the opposite side of the field. Jenica jumped into my arms, shrieking with joy.

We took our positions, and I nodded at Monica, right back. This team was coming for us.

As predicted, they sprinted down the right side of the field.

"Contain!" I called.

Monica stabbed at the ball, and the midfielder chipped it up to the forward.

It was a foot race, me and their star forward.

I reached the ball half a step before she did, jumping up and heading out up.

She collided with me in the air, sending us both into the dirt.

"You good?" Michelle asked, reaching out her goalie glove.

"Fine," I answered, gripping her hand and pulling myself up.

The opposite team's forward stood up, glaring at me.

"Watch your back," she spat, storming back up to her position right as the ref blew his whistle. 1

"I would hug you," Coach Jefferson said, as I ran to him, "but you're covered in mud."

I wrapped him up into a tight hug, letting out a squeal.

"You smell like BO!" he called, laughing as I squeezed him tighter.

I joined the line of girls as we shook hands with the other team. Their forward pulled back her hand as she reached me.

"Good game!" I called out to her, as we went our separate ways.

"Don't antagonize Katelyn," Jenica said, steering me towards our bench.

I peeled off my shin guards, plugging my nose as I dumped them into my backpack.

"Warning much?" Jenica asked, gagging.

I laughed as I pulled off my Captain band, stuffing it into the pocket in my backpack.

"Did Katelyn take off her shin guards again?" Coach Jefferson demanded, fanning the air around his face.

"Oh, good one!" I called out, rolling my eyes.

He began to congratulate us on winning the tournament, and talking about the medal ceremony.

I took my cleats off while he was talking, trading them for my slides.

"You're sunburned," Jenica whispered to me.

My eyes widened. "My face?"

She nodded.

"Like, bad?"

She shook her head. "Just barely."

"Shit." I touched the tips of my cheeks, cursing under my breath as I was met with the heat of a sunburn. "My mom is going to kill me."

Coach Jefferson led us over to the medal tent, a photographer taking pictures as we each received our first place medals.

I was careful to stay under the shade, trying to preserve the rest of my body from the sun.

"Are we taking you home?" Jenica asked, as we were dismissed.

"No, my dad's coming to get me, supposedly."

"Katelyn Jackson?" a familiar voice asked.

My eyes widened, and a smile overtook Jenica's face.

"See you later," she mouthed.

I turned to the face of the coach of LSU.

"I'm Brian Lee, coach of the women's soccer program at LSU. I was very impressed by your performance this weekend."

"Thank you," I said, my heart pounding in my chest.

He handed me a sheet of paper. "I'd like you to come out to a few practices."

"I'd be honored to!"

He smiled. "Great. Review this schedule and give me a call."

I nodded. "Yes sir."

"It was nice speaking with you."

"You too."

He left, heading off to catch the forward from the team we'd just played.

Jenica was waiting around the corner for me, as I knew she would be.

"Oh my God!" I squealed, jumping up and down with Jenica.

"That was the coach of LSU!" Jenica squealed.

"I know, I know, I know!"

"What did he say?"

"That he wants me to come practice with his team."

We shrieked together, jumping up and down in excitement.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw my dad's Lexus pull into the parking lot.

Jenica smiled at me. "He'll be proud of you."

"I bet you ten bucks he won't even ask how my tournament went."

"I'm sure that's not true," she said, unconvincingly.

"Yeah right, I've got to go."

"I'll call you tonight after the interview."

I let out a groan. "Don't remind me."

I followed her out to her car, grabbing my suitcase out of the back of her mom's car.

"Congratulations sweetie," Momma Terry said, giving me a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks!" I returned her hug, laughing.

Once she let go I turned to face my dad's SUV, letting out a sigh.

"Call you tonight," Jenica reminded me, coming into my line of sight.

I gave her a hug before climbing into the backseat of my dad's Lexus, throwing my backpack over my shoulder into the trunk.

"No, no, no," dad said, into his Bluetooth. "That's not the tux we ordered."

I pulled my headphones out of my bag, plugging them into my iPhone. I put the right one in my ear, leaving the left ear open in case my dad decided to start a conversation with me. I began to flip through my songs, snuggling with my pillow pet as my dad pulled out.

"Why does he need to come in for another fitting?" dad argued. "We already came in for a fitting and the wrong tux was ordered."

I decided on Skyline's new song, humming along as quietly as possible.

"This is ridiculous," my dad said. "Cancel the order, we're going with a different store. Good day."

I rolled my eyes. People make mistakes all the time. My dad takes everything personally, as if they'd purposely set out to screw up his order.

"You know," I said, pausing my song, "if you decide to go with another tux store, you're going to have to take him in for another fitting anyways."

"This doesn't involve you Katelyn."

It never does.

"I'm just pointing out the obvious."

"Why don't you put your headphones back in and keep your opinions to yourself?" dad suggested. "Siri, call Marissa."

"The tournament went great," I called out, sarcastically. "We won first place."

"I'm on the phone."

I reached into the back, pulling out my Beats by Dre. I unplugged my cheap headphones, tossing them to the side. I drowned my dad's voice out with Skyline, staring out the window as we drove home.

The three-hour drive home was excruciatingly long, and I couldn't get out of the car fast enough once we pulled up to the house.

"Katelyn?" my mom's voice called from the kitchen.

I ignored her, heading up to the second floor and locking myself in my room.

I ripped off my uniform, throwing it across my room in anger.

Not once did he ask me about my game, about the tournament, anything!

"I hate living in this house," I called out to nobody in particular.

I traded out my sweat soaked bra and underwear for new ones and put on shorts and a t-shirt. I turned on the TV before I grabbed my guitar out of the corner of my room, strumming it a few times.

"Every step that I take is another mistake to you. And every second I waste is more than I can take. I've become so numb, I can't feel you there, become so tired, so much more aware. I'm becoming this, all I want to do is be more like me and be less like you."

Numb by Linkin Park was my favorite song, my life's theme song. I was so tired of always coming in second, but there was nothing I could do about it. No matter how hard I fought, they always seemed to win.

"Katelyn?" my mom's voice called through the intercom. "Are you going to join us for dinner?"

I hopped up off my bed, walking across my wood floor to the intercom. "No."

"Bethany made your favorite," my mom's voice said. "Lasagna and garlic bread."

I stared at the intercom for a few moments. Did she really just say that? "Mom, that isn't my favorite meal."

I was met by silence on the other end.

"That's his favorite meal," I muttered, sitting back down on my bed.

"Everything that you thought I would be has fallen apart right in front of you."

There was a knock on my door. "Katelyn," my mom's voice said. "Honey, I'm sorry."

I strummed my guitar louder. "I've become so numb, I can't feel you there, become so tired, so much more aware. I'm becoming this, all I want to do is be more like me and be less like you."

I began to strum my guitar a little softer, changing songs.

"Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me. Lying on the floor surrounded, surrounded. Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you? Just a little late, you found me, you found me!"

"Katelyn?" my mom asked, softly.

"Where were you when everything was falling apart? All my days were spent by the telephone that never rang, and all I needed was a call that never came."

I looked up at my TV, E! News coming on. I placed my guitar back into it's holder.

"Connor Jackson," the reporter said, in awe.

I plopped down on my couch, crossing my right leg over my left.

Connor smiled, flashing his pearly white teeth.

"It's such a pleasure to have you on the show today."

I rolled my eyes, resting my elbow on the armrest. I put my chin in my open palm, letting out a sigh.

"Thank you," Connor drawled, in a deep voice. "It's a pleasure to be here."

"Gag me," I muttered, my hand itching to press the mute button.

"So tell me," the reporter said, leaning into him. "What does it feel like to be headlining your own tour?"

His smile disappeared for just a moment before he quickly recovered. "It's an honor. I'm so excited to share my new music with my fans."

I let out another sigh, already bored with this interview.

"I've heard rumors of a worldwide tour on the horizon. Any comment?"

I choked back a laugh. Is she serious? This is the first headlining tour in his career, and there are already rumors on a worldwide tour?

"I'm taking it one tour a time," he said, with a laugh as well. "Let's start with the United States tour and see where it goes from there." He cleared his throat. "But a worldwide tour is definitely something I'd be interested in later in my career path."

"Way to cover your ass," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

The interview continued for another ten, long, excruciating minutes.

She talked a lot about his upcoming album. It was going to be released next Tuesday, as if I hadn't heard enough about it already.

"After the commercial break, we'll hear Connor's hit song!" the reporter said, with a bright smile. "Shades."

Connor had done pretty well with his interview for it being his first major one. I was just in a sour mood after today's events.

I let out a sigh, swinging my crossed leg back and forth. Shades was my least favorite song that Connor has released.

I heard my phone go off across the room, but I didn't feel like getting up to get it.

After a few more minutes, E! News came back. Connor was onstage, ready to perform.

"Here's Connor Jackson performing his hit single, Shades!" the E! News reporter announced.

The camera swung over to the stage where Connor was performing.

"No you can't see me. No you can't meet me. Yeah I'm on my game, that's right I'm in my shades.

See the cameras flashing, anybody, any time for action. You're the main attraction. Hey, in my shades.

Pull up in my spot looking hot everybody knows. Don't got no stress in my head cause stress don't fly in my fancy clothes. Yeah, they want to take my picture, watch out those lights will get ya. And they're calling your name, that's where I put on my frames.

I tell them watch me now. Lil mama how you like me now, on the dance floor we can work it out and bring this whole place down. Gotta stand up hands up. Big boy's in a stance like hey what? So get on the floor. Show them what you came here for.

No you can't see me. No you can't meet me. Yeah I'm on my game, that's right I'm in my shades.

See the cameras flashing, anybody any time for action. You're the main attraction. Hey, in my shades.

Uh, Wanna watch me watch this. And when you watch TV, watch me. Got to have the whole place jumping, cameras flashing and you know the bass pumping, shades on like a rock star, and I'm busting out the best moves so far. Feel the air from the speakers, so so fresh from my head to my sneakers.

Turn the beat up on the radio. Imma keep the frames till I'm ready go. Till I'm gone I is, you ain't never ever heard a song like this. Get your brain on, better get some ideas. Maybe you should holler at your boy right here. And if the girl want to get crazy, you can find me in my shades.

No you can't see me. No you can't meet me. Yeah I'm on my game, that's right I'm in my shades.

See the cameras flashing, anybody any time for action. You're the main attraction. Hey, in my shades.

No you can't see me. No you can't meet me. Yeah I'm on my game, that's right I'm in my shades.

See the cameras flashing, anybody any time for action. You're the main attraction. Hey, in my shades."

The crowd erupted in screams and cheers, and I just rolled my eyes.

It was your everyday pop song, repetitive and without substance.

I turned the channel to Criminal Minds, crossing my room to pick up my phone.

Text from Jenica. Ru watching the interview?

As I was about to answer, my phone rang. It was an acoustic version of one of Connor's unreleased songs.

Jenica's contact picture popped up, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Yes?" I asked, plopping back down on my couch.

"I just love that song," she said.

"How?"

"Because he has a beautiful voice."

"Gag me."

She laughed.

"Did you call to talk about something else besides your celebrity crush?" I asked, a bit annoyed.

"I called to see if you've checked your email."

"No."

"Well check it!"

I pulled out my MacBook, pulling up my email. There was an email from Coach Jefferson. 21

"Did you get the email from Coach?" I asked, opening it.

"Why else would I be calling you?"

I let out a scream when I saw what was inside the email.

"I know!" Jenica said, laughing.

"Do you realize how big this is?" I demanded. "Jen, we've been invited to the Nike Showcase." 31

"I know!"

I pulled up the calendar on my phone. Six weeks.

"I've already filled out the application and my mom wrote the check. I'm taking it down to Coach Jefferson tomorrow."

"I can't believe it," I sang, dancing around my room. "The Nike Showcase Jen."

She laughed. "Well that seemed to lift your spirits."

"How could it not?"

"Jenica, dinner!" Momma Terry's voice called. "And congratulations Kate!"

"Thanks Momma T!" I called.

"Talk to you after dinner," Jenica promised. "I've never been so excited. The Nike Showcase!"

The line clicked dead, and I placed my phone on the charger, rereading the email.

It was a three-day, overnight camp. And at the end of the three days, a team of 18 girls would be assembled, and they would play three games together alongside the US Women's National Team.

I sent the application to my printer, filling it out before heading downstairs.

"Ms. Jackson," Bethany said, with a smile, as I entered the kitchen. "What can I get you for dinner?"

My stomach rumbled at the thought of dinner. "Pizza?"

She nodded. "Of course."

"Where is my mom?"

"She and your father went into the study after dinner."

I went down the hallway, knocking twice on the study door.

"Come in," mom's voice called. She smiled when she saw me. "Hello beautiful." Her smile quickly turned to a frown. "Are you sunburnt?"

"Just a little," I said, brushing it off.

"Do you have tan lines?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She let out a sigh without waiting for my answer. "Nothing that a spray tan can't fix. How was your tournament?" mom asked.

Dad let out an impatient sigh.

"Let's talk somewhere else." She guided me into her bedroom. "So the tournament?"

"We came in first," I said, with a smile.

"Oh honey, that's fantastic!" She gave me a tight hug.

"And the LSU women's soccer coach said he'd like me to come out and play with the team."

"Oh dear, that's wonderful. I'm so proud of you."

I handed her my Nike Showcase application. "And I was invited to this."

"When is it?" she asked, reading over the description of the camp.

"Six weeks."

Her smile faltered a bit.

"What?" I asked.

"Your father and I were going to talk to you about it together," she said, placing the application down on her bed.

"Talk about what?" Anything that started like that could never be good.

"Mom?" an all-too familiar voice called.

"Go ahead," I muttered, used to taking a backseat.

"In my room dear!" mom called back. "This will just take a minute. I'll send him off to your dad as soon as I can."

Connor came waltzing in, a smile on his face. "Hey sis, how was the tournament?"

"Great," I answered.

"What can I do for you honey?" mom asked.

"I just wanted to talk about tomorrow's schedule, see if there's something I can get out of."

"Your father's in his study."

He left the room, whistling.

"The great Connor Jackson everyone," I muttered.

"Katelyn, honey," mom said, touching my leg. "Your father and I want you to come along on the tour."