Free Pop Kids by Davey Havok

tendril. Silently humming, she listlessly twists.
    “Does that bother you too?” Casually, she licks her fingers.
    “Not at all.”
    She’s a good girl .
    “Me neither.” She smiles and chases me down with another sip.
    Standing naked over her bed, I drink mineral water as Stella reads me tasty gossip from celebrity sites. I am about to direct her to CocoPerez.com when her Mom messages her. She’s on her way home. Barbara will immediately be able to tell that I’ve just spread joy all over her drunken daughter.
    Terribly disappointed to have neither a second scene nor a pink shower, I begin my rapid exit. With a moistened Hello Kitty towel, I wipe down before pulling up my Ksubi’s and slipping on my Chucks. Britney sings “ Hold It Against Me.” Then I remember the theft.
    “Hey…” buttoning the same black and white checkered short-sleeve that I saw on that Stroke who dates models, I ask, “Where’s my shirt?”
    “In the laundry basket. It got all smoky so I’m gonna wash it for ya Babe.” She picks up her vibrating phone.
    Her hamper is empty—surrounded only by a pile of unlaundered, pink delicates. But I’m in a great mood and a greater hurry. In her pink baroque vanity, I adjust the skinny tie that I left loosely knotted around my collar.
    “What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask.
    She doesn’t look up from her text. “Oh, I’m kinda super busy.”
    “Oh okay, well I have tonight off.” Her reflection ignores mine. “Do you wanna get YoGoGo or something? I’m feeling like some frozen low-cals.”
    Her phone vibrates. She giggles.
    “Ohhhh, I can’t Babe.” Pouting, she types. “I really should be here when my Mom gets home. We’ve got a Sex and the City girl-night planned.”
    She’s making up this previously unmentioned date with Babs. I know it. I wonder who’s actually coming over. He’s probably in a band.
    “Oh okay cool. Yeah, that’s cool. … I actually need to get some stuff ready for The Premiere anyway.”
    She types.
    “I can’t wait! It’s gonna be A-Mazing!”
    “Yeah, okay.”
    Pausing in the hall, I silently watch her. She types.
    Diving back into The Pink Room, I snatch the phone from its evil princess, text “I’m sorry, I have to go bang Michael Massi. We’ll have to talk later DJ DiCaprio,” hit send, and then do it to your pink highness all the way through the reveal of Bigs’ real name. She makes me her prince. And together we rule.
    Stella stops typing. Finally, she looks up.
    With my board under my arm, I smile. “Okay, I’ll see you Sunday.”
    “Bye Babe.” She sings and looks back at her phone.
    As The Pussy Cat Dolls show me the front door, Stella, in perfect unison, loudly joins in. “When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be famous … “

    At home, everything’s fine. Frank and Gina are asleep, I’m only two nights away from throwing my dream party, and my relationship with Stella could rightly be considered ‘sexually active.’ In bed, I’m intimating to Eddie.
    “Yep, as of right now I’m sexually active with one of the hottest girls in school.” She winks, and I clarify, “Oh no, it’s not like that, but it’s still totally fabulous.”
    Were I Stella’s boyfriend assuredly the relationship might be a bit trying (with my having to navigate around all the other guys she’d still be touching) but it could work. We look great together and since we both aspire to escape this town, we wouldn’t have to worry about breaking up after graduation. She says that she’s moving to LA, that she’s going to be a star.
    “Who knows? It’s always something different.” I feed my cats curiosity. “Acting, modeling, singing. … Every time I ask she says, ‘once I’m there, how I got there won’t matter.’ You can respect that, right?” Eddie pads from my chest and flops down onto the pillow next to my head. “I totally respect her ambition. She’s a good girl. When I got there, when I walked in her room, she was totally