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pushed up the aisles and then tail the final passenger off the plane – I feel listless, and there’s nowhere to go until rehearsal in a few hours.
    Back in the apartment, everything looks foreign to my eye. I power on my tablet and scan the gossip sites; it’s all just variations of the same story featuring Derek and Lisa. The video on YouTube shot from a jerky cell phone is the worst, though, and I cringe as I relive my only meeting with her. It’s already gotten two hundred eighty-six thousand hits. I want to die.
    There are some old photos of her, one obviously from a yearbook, another couple taken at parties, where she’s all goth and badass, smoking and holding a beer.
    Nice. Class act, Derek . I remember what Helen said about not judging, but I shake my head. Not in this lifetime.
    I know I shouldn’t do it, but I pull up Facebook to see if she’s got a page, and of course she does. On it are hundreds of messages congratulating her on reuniting with Derek. Her page is littered with shots of her and Jason. My stomach twists the more I see, but I can’t help myself, and I scroll through her photos. Lisa at the beach in the summer, her tats on display, wearing a pair of the shortest cutoffs I’ve ever seen and a tank top that’s little more than tissue.
    My phone vibrates: it’s Melody. She’s psychic, because she’s online and doing the same thing as I am – researching the enemy.
    Me: You see her FB page? Hobag.
    Mel: Tramp Central Station.
    Me: What did he see in her?
    Mel: He’s a dude. How was NY?
    Me: Awesome.
    Mel: U a fallen woman now?
    Me: And how.
    Mel: Jealous.
    Me: No u aren’t. U have Sebastian.
    Mel: No, I have SF. He has LA. Lot of miles between us.
    Me: When u coming back down?
    Mel: Depends.
    Me: On?
    Mel: Him. He’s a busy guy.
    Me: Sucks.
    Mel: No sucking going on.
    I remember Jeremy and my promise to call. I beg off with Melody and try Jeremy’s cell. He answers on the third ring and sounds as morose as he did earlier.
    “Sorry I couldn’t talk this morning,” I say.
    “That’s okay. I understand. Too big for the little people now that you’re a diva.”
    “Exactly.” I pause. “How’s it going?”
    “Oh, you know.”
    I lower my voice. “What happened, Jeremy?”
    “I saw Eric again last night. It’s…it’s just so hard.”
    “And you’re complaining about that?”
    “Ha, ha. And yes, I am. I’m being a complete schoolgirl about this, but every time I see him it tears my heart out.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    He sighs. “I don’t know. I told him last night it was the last time I was going to see him.”
    “What! Why?”
    “I’m falling too hard, too fast. And it’s hopeless. So why torture myself?”
    “What did he say?”
    “That he understands.”
    “Oh. Not what you were hoping for, was it?”
    “Not exactly.”
    “You have a show tonight?”
    “Yes. I’m getting ready to head to the theater. Wouldn’t do to miss my curtain.”
    “Well, remember that this will all pass. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.”
    “You sound so sure of yourself, sweetie. It’s nice to hear. Our little girl’s gone and gotten all growed up.”
    “I don’t know about that. But I believe that if you want something, you’ll do whatever it takes to get it. I know you, Jeremy. You’re not going to mope around. You’re a star, and stars shine bright.”
    “That’s so sweet. Did you read it in a greeting card?”
    “Fortune cookie.”
    He’s got to run, and when I hang up, the apartment feels cavernously empty. I sit on the sofa staring at the walls, waiting to go to rehearsal, reading the toxic sewage spewing from the web about Derek and Lisa – and the obvious shock on my face in the pictures. I wish I had someone I could talk to who could give me better advice than Melody. I reluctantly press speed dial, and when my dad answers, I’ve never been so happy to hear his voice.
    “Hi, Sage. How was your trip?”
    I’d told him I was going to New