Fifteen Minutes

chapter 20

They had ten minutes before dance rehearsal started up again, and Zack had just one way he wanted to use the time. If he didn’t call Reese soon she was bound to worry. Especially with all the talk on the Internet about him and Zoey. Tweets from the other contestants, hints on the show’s website that a romance was budding. He needed to talk to Reese tonight. Right now. He slipped out the main entrance into the dark of the night, intent on heading to the coffee shop across the street.

But blocking his way were eight bodyguards.

“Hey, guys.” He hesitated.

“Zack. How’s it going?” The group nodded and greeted him.

He pointed to the Starbucks across the street. “Anyone want coffee?”

“Hold up.” The biggest in the group took a step closer, concerned. “You’re not going anywhere. The public’s figured it out. They know y’all are rehearsing here.”

“Oh.” Zack hadn’t considered that. “Okay, then. I’ll be right back.” He raised his brow, looking for approval. “Is that all right?”

“Definitely not.” The first bodyguard lowered his eyebrows. “One fan spots you and it’s a madhouse. Bedlam. We don’t wanna mess with that.”

The other bodyguards muttered their agreement.

“If you absolutely must go, one of us goes with you.” It was the biggest guy again. “Either that or you stay here. One of us can get the coffee.”

“I’ll do it.” The shortest of the group slipped his hands in his pockets and moved a step toward the street. “What do you want?”

“Uh . . .” Zack’s head was spinning. Time alone. Time away from Zoey Davis. The chance to think. Reese Weatherly. He didn’t voice his thoughts. The bodyguard was waiting. Zack cleared his throat. “Uh . . . how about a grande black tea with an inch of cream? Is that okay?”

“Definitely. Got it.” The man jogged to the intersection and crossed at the green light.

Like being hit by a gust of hurricane-force wind, the truth took his breath. He could no longer cross the street for a cup of hot tea in New York City. People might see him, recognize him. They could even mob him. Even as he processed this, a crowd of people headed in their direction. The big guard pointed to the door well. “Stay there. We’ve got you covered.”

Zack did as he was told. He hunkered in against the inset brick door while the guys formed a wall around the entrance. They were an intimidating presence, for sure. They looked like the starting offensive line for the New York Jets. Four of them were assigned to Chandra; the other four split time between protecting Kelly and Cullen and the contestants. Together they provided a force no one dared think about crossing. True professionals, they kept their posture casual, talking among themselves so they wouldn’t draw attention to Zack.

The crowd walked closer—some sort of tour group wearing the same blue stickers on their shirts. As they neared, many of them peered at the building, trying to see what was behind the line of bodyguards. But the door was set far enough back from the sidewalk that Zack remained shrouded in shadows. He watched, eyes wide. This was crazy. Did he actually need protection from strangers? Did that mean he’d somehow made it?

He wasn’t sure whether to be scared or excited.

“Hey! I think Fifteen Minutes rehearses there! I saw it on Twitter!” A teenage girl’s shrill voice rose above the others and the group slowed. She jumped around, pointing at the bodyguards. “We should ask if they’ll let us in.”

An older woman—the girl’s mother maybe—pushed her way through the throng. She tapped one of the bodyguards on the shoulder. Until then they had seemed unaware, but now they faced the crowd, shoulders touching.

“Hi.” The woman smiled. “Is this where Fifteen Minutes rehearses? My daughter saw something about it.”

“This is a private business, ma’am.” He didn’t smile. “I’m afraid I can’t answer questions.”

The girl squealed and covered her mouth. “It is! It has to be!” She put both hands in the air and gave a short scream. “I wanna meet Zack Dylan, please! Can we go in just for half a minute? I’m in love with him. Please?”

“We won’t be long.” The mother took a step closer, trying to see between two of the bodyguards. “We’ll stay in the back and watch for a minute. No longer.”

“Ma’am.” The bodyguard’s tone was stern. He crossed his arms, his chest puffed out. “No one may enter the building without clearance.”

“There has to be another way in.” The girl wasn’t taking no for an answer. She pulled her phone from her purse and began snapping photos of the bodyguards.

Watching from the doorwell, Zack pressed himself into the far corner. His heart pounded as the moment played out. He stayed quiet while the bodyguards dashed the girl’s hopes of getting into the building. Finally—reluctantly—the group moved on. “They’ll be back.” The tallest bodyguard shook his head. “People are crazy.”

“Girls are craziest.” Another of the guards laughed. “Always amazes me.”

One of the guys turned around and pointed at Zack. “See that? You stay close to the building. No getting coffee on your own, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Zack felt adrenaline work through his veins. He exhaled and slumped against the warm brick. His break was half over. If he called Reese now, he wouldn’t have time to talk. Not the sort of conversation the two of them needed. He took a deep breath and made a decision. In a hurry he dialed his parents’ number.

“Hello?” Grandpa Dan answered.

“Hi! This is Zack.” He felt his throat tighten. What was he doing standing in a dirty door well in New York City behind a bunch of bodyguards? Why wasn’t he back in Kentucky with the people he loved? He swallowed hard, searching for his voice. “How . . . are you, Grandpa?”

“Worried.” A pause followed. “Son, what’s this about some other girl?”

“It’s nothing.” Zack wondered if he’d responded too quickly. “She’s on the show with me. We’re friends. That’s all.”

More hesitation. “Son . . . have you thought about how Reese might feel?”

“Yes.” He stopped there, defeated. He couldn’t defend himself. The show had taken all his time, and the insanity had thrown him and Zoey together constantly. She needed him. He tried to find the right words. “They’re keeping us very busy. Please . . . tell Reese I’m sorry. I’ll . . . I’ll make things right when this is all over.”

“Be careful.” Grandpa Dan sounded sad. Like he could cry. “This show, don’t let it change who you are.” His voice was scratchy. “What you believe.”

Zack squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “I won’t. I’m trying, Grandpa. Please pray for me, okay?” He needed to know his grandpa was praying. His own time spent praying was a fraction of what it had been. He hadn’t found time to talk about his faith after the last group performance, and lately he could go all day and not think about praying until his head hit the pillow.

“I’ll pray, Zack. I will.” A spark of hope sounded in his grandpa’s voice.

Zack turned his back to the city street. More people passed by, shouting about Fifteen Minutes rehearsing there and talking to the bodyguards. Zack struggled to hear his own voice. “Some days . . . nothing makes sense.”

They talked another few minutes, all of it a struggle with the noise from the city. Zack would’ve stepped back inside but the cell reception was terrible. Besides, he wanted a moment away from the other contestants. His grandpa told him that AJ was still sick, still spending most of her time in her bedroom. “She has something wrong with her kidneys. They’re trying to get a diagnosis.”

Zack drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Should I come home?”

“Well . . .” His grandpa was quiet. “The situation with AJ isn’t an emergency.” He hesitated. “Whatever God tells you . . . just do that, son.”

Tension tightened its grip on Zack’s soul. “I’m trying. He keeps moving me on to the next round.”

“Sometimes God’s voice is hard to hear over the world.”

“Yes.” The city was louder now. Zack had to yell to be heard. The noise drove home his grandpa’s point. “Thank you. For reminding me.”

The call ended and the bodyguard returned with Zack’s hot tea. He thanked the guy, and the others, too. Then he slipped his phone in his pocket and hurried back inside. The next dance rehearsal was about to begin.

Grandpa Dan’s words spoke to him. Sometimes God’s voice is hard to hear over the world. He let the reminder play again in his mind. Once he reached the open rehearsal space, Zoey spotted him before anyone else. She walked to him, her eyes never leaving his.

Zack searched his motives as he waited by the doorway. He wasn’t falling for her, right? She needed him, that was all. Or maybe they needed each other. She was still the only one who understood this crazy ride. As she reached him, he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Called home.”

“Mmmm . . . me, too. There’s cell reception in the restroom.” She came a step closer. “How’s your family?”

“They miss me.” He smiled, searching her eyes. What was it about her? She seemed different somehow, bolder, the way she’d been when they first met. He dismissed the possibility. “My sister’s still sick. She needs prayer.”

“I’m sorry.” She ran her hand over her arm. “I really do need to learn how to pray.”

“I told you.” His voice grew softer. He didn’t need a lecture from William Gaines before rehearsal. But he wanted Zoey to understand. “You just talk to God. That’s all.”

“Show me?” She tilted her head. “Later? Please, Zack.”

“I’m not sure when we’ll be done here.” He looked to the stage. The other contestants were already in place. “Come on.” He started to lead her toward the stage.

“Zack.” She hesitated.

He looked back at her. “Zoey, we have to go.”

“Did you call her? Did you call Reese?”

For a long beat he didn’t say anything. He could feel his shoulders fall a bit as defeat slithered alongside him again. “There wasn’t time.”

The slightest smile tugged at her lips. “Just wondering.” She fell in easily beside him as they walked to the stage. “I’m sure she’ll understand. We’re so busy.”

As they walked Zack suddenly realized he was still holding Zoey’s hand. Not only that, but the camera in the corner of the room was trained straight on them. He let go in a hurry and shoved his hands once more in his pockets. She hesitated. “Everything okay?”

“Perfect.” He jogged the last few steps and shouted to Demetrius. “Here. Sorry.”

The guy ignored Zack. He checked his watch, then looked at the group. “Places.”

And like that Zack began doing the one thing he needed to do for the next hour. Dancing with Zoey. Reese would understand. But whenever the two of them did talk later that night, Zack would be lying if he said he wasn’t having fun. God kept letting him stay on the show, so there must be a reason. It was okay to enjoy the process, right?

Zoey was a very good dancer. In Zack’s arms and at his side he couldn’t help but notice, couldn’t help but feel something. The electricity of her skin against his or the smell of her faded perfume. The sound of her laugh. One hour became two, and that became a night of dancing and breaks and instruction that took them way past midnight. One of his and Zoey’s best nights as a team. When he finally crawled exhausted into his bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about the dance and the music and the girl who had been beside him. It was too late to call Reese. Which was probably a good thing. Because he didn’t fall asleep thinking about God or his family or even Reese. Instead he was consumed by one thing.

The way Zoey Davis had felt in his arms.