Page 10 of Grown
“Your name will be at the box office,” he says whipping out his phone before winking at me. “See you later, Bright Eyes.”
He taps one of his bodyguards, who gives me a once-over before exiting.
Butterflies tickle the inside of my chest. Maybe I’m hallucinating. Because there’s absolutely no way Korey Fields would ever be into me.
Chapter 6
A Star is Born
According to Wikipedia, Korey Fields is twenty-eight years old.
Korey was a protégé. A child superstar at thirteen, he was discovered on YouTube, singing Stevie Wonder songs.
Raised by his grandmother, he could play several instruments, including drums, piano, guitar, and even trumpet. All self-taught while spending hours at his local Baptist church.
They called him the second coming of Michael Jackson, with such hit singles as “Invincible,” “I Remember You,” “Work It,” and “Love Is a Verb.”
My parents loved dancing to his song “A Lifetime of Love.”
Fifteen top Billboard hits. Triple-platinum albums. Back-to-back sold-out concerts and tours.
He won his first Grammy at age fifteen.
He’s anEshy of being an EGOT (Emmy Grammy Oscar Tony).
The shirtless photo on the cover of his latest album is like an oil painting of a Greek god. He’s the color of earth. Dark eyes, sharp chin, perfect nose, a chest chiseled out of amber stone, muscles forming a V right above his jeans waistband...
Korey Fields is twenty-eight years old.
He’s young. But not that young.
Chapter 7
Friends to the End
Gabriela dips her fish stick in a cup of ketchup that sits on top of her biology textbook.
“So, our evil plan worked,” she says with a grin.
“Yeah. Even though LaToya Jones almost killed me.”
Like most lunch periods, we find ourselves chilling in the dark gym alcove near the school’s trophy display, skin drenched in fluorescent lighting. I dip my fish sticks in tartar sauce, stealing some of her ketchup for my fries.
“And the lipstick? Earrings?”
“Perfect. But none of that matters... because I metKoreyFields.” I try to hold in my swoon. “He gave me a nickname. Did I mention that yet?”
“Yes.” She sighs, flipping open her notebook. “For the fourth time now.”
“Yeah, but it’showhe said it.”
Rolling her eyes, she chuckles. “I’m sure he was just being nice.”
“No way. It’s wasn’t like how Daddy’s friends call me sweetheart. No, this seemed... specific. Just for me.”
“Ew, girl, are you double dipping? Stop mixing your pickled mayo with my pureed tomatoes.”
“It tastes better this way! OK, listen to this. ‘Soul eyes, souls rise. Be it a day or a lifetime. When the beauty comes alive. Would you be mine?’ Then the hook would sort of be this hum melody.”
