One Night Only (Season 1: Deni's Story)

Chapter Twelve

"Have you seen my phone?"

I pull back the comforter on the hotel bed and search among the sheets and pillows, even though I've checked here and inspected every pocket and compartment of my bag twice. I could have sworn I left my phone charging on the table between the two beds before I went into the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day, but it isn't there now.

"Elton texted me while I was at the grocery store," Mom says, not answering my question. She watches on as my frantic search shifts to opening drawers and peering under the beds. "He said to tell you someone named Violet answered your message on Instagram and that he can send me a screenshot of what she wrote, if you want to read it or have him reply."

"Why would he send you the screenshot instead of texting it to me?" The words are already past my lips when it dawns on me why Elton sent this message through Mom. My social media ban was supposed to have been underway the moment she and I departed LAX. I'd assumed it was a rule only Mom knew about, since it had come from her, but she and Elton must be in on the ban together.

"He isn't sending you the screenshot because you aren't supposed to be using social media," Mom replies, confirming my suspicion. "It seems you were last night, though, since that's when the timestamp on your note to Violet was from."

Wonderful. When I gave Elton access to my social accounts to manage them while I'm away, I didn't expect his first action to be snitching on me. He could have left out the part about when I sent Violet the message and let Mom believe it was before we left L.A., but no. He's full on throwing me under the bus. The angry text I wish I could send him is already writing itself in my head when I notice the top of my phone case peeking out from the side pocket of Mom's purse.

I bite back a sigh. "How long are you taking my phone for?"

"Until we're back in L.A."

I'm entirely cut off from the world for the summer. Fantastic.

"How will I keep in touch with Sawyer or any of my other friends while we're here?" I know why she wants me to stay off social media, but isolating me from my friends and my band isn't fair.

"I can send messages for you so Sawyer and your friends know how you're doing."

"Please say you're joking." Mom might be cool most of the time, but what seventeen-year-old sends texts to friends through their parent?

Her shrug is too nonchalant for my liking. "Pretend it's the nineties when most teens didn't have a cell phone," she suggests. "We managed."

"What about books or music? Those are on my phone."

"I packed your Kindle, and I'm sure there are bookstores and libraries we can visit in town. There's always the radio for music."

"This is too much," I mutter. I still can't believe my own manager ratted me out for thanking a fan and that it led to this. No good deed goes unpunished.

"Ready to go?" Mom chirps. "We shouldn't let the groceries sit in the Jeep for too long." Her cheerful tone makes it seem like our entire exchange didn't happen.

"Yeah." There's zero enthusiasm in my voice. Between losing my phone privileges and not getting to go on the grocery run this morning, today is not off to a good start. Not that I fault Mom for deciding to go to the store on her own after picking up the keys to our cottage, since someone needed to stay with Alfie in the hotel room. The last few hours just haven't been the retreat from Hollywood life I envisioned.

If Mom notices my tone, she doesn't let on. She brought the suitcases down to the Jeep after getting back from the store, so all that's left for me to grab is my bag. Mom opens the door and marches ahead of me out of the hotel room and down the hall to the elevator, holding Alfie's leash in her hand.