How to (Not) Date a Popstar |✓|

4.2 Pressure

It was lunch time in the HVH cafeteria. Quinn set her tray on our table and took the empty seat across from me.

Quinn chuckled. "Rough day?"

"Jocks, are a menace." Instead of enjoying my cheeseburger and fries, I was picking silly string from my hair and clothes. A shooting guard for the HVH Ravens winked as he sauntered past.

"So did your aunt really not know she was pregnant? Aren't doctors supposed to know that kinda stuff?"

"Doctors make lousy patients."

Quinn leaned across the table, silver bracelets clinking as she picked string from my hair. "What happened this time? Another misunderstanding with the chess team?"

"Today was the basketball team. Where were you?"

"Not making out in the janitor's closet with Declan, that's for sure. But I'm glad your aunt's okay. It could have been a lot worse. Babies suck, but it'll grow up and leave one day."

Bursting at the seams, I leaned forward and lowered my voice. "I told Tyler what happened at the hotel."

Quinn coughed on her celery stick. "You what?"

"Don't worry. Tyler's not mad about the egg. He's too embarrassed about his dad to care about anything else—besides getting laid." My gaze traveled across the cafeteria, where Robin and Tyler were the focal point of the most exclusive table. Tyler had taken my advice and was finally integrating—with the popular kids, of course.

"Thanks to Tyler's dad, I have nightmares about Bortnik and Aleksandr kicking his teeth in. I'd say that makes us pretty even." Quinn stabbed her salad, glaring at her tray like it was personally responsible for everything she blamed them for. "My life is an ash tray."

"I'm sorry I dragged you along, Q. If I had known—"

"Stop. You couldn't have known, so it's not your fault. I chose to go." She picked at her food, tucking long blonde locks behind her ear. "I guess having a messed-up family explains why Tyler's such a meathead."

"We all have daddy issues. Maybe you should cut him some slack, Q."

"I could. But I won't."

My gaze strayed once again. I bit into my cheeseburger, tasting sawdust as I watched Robin whisper in Tyler's ear. Whatever she said, he was interested. And who wouldn't be? Robin was a gorgeous, talented cheerleader who was incredibly popular despite the personality of a wet cat. She left the table with Tyler, walking backward as she led him by the hand. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach as they disappeared through the cafeteria doors.

Sometimes Tyler made me feel like the most important person in the world. And sometimes we lived on two different planets.

Quinn shook her head in disappointment. "Why do you torture yourself?"

"Because dancers are gluttons for punishment. And competition." I pushed my tray towards, Quinn. Watching Tyler leave the cafeteria with Robin only cemented my decision to annihilate her in the talent show.

"Tyler's living the lifestyle of the rich and famous." Quinn opened the Jell-O cup I had forsaken, licking the tab. "Any girl he gets with is just another notch in his headboard before he runs back to his cushy New York life. You deserve better, Aaliyah."

But it's like I said, dancers are gluttons for punishment.

***

Once Tyler enrolled, HVH became a different kind of jungle.