If Mom notices my happier-than-I've-been-in-weeks mood, she doesn't ask me about it. My cheer must be contagious, because she relaxes more than she has in eons. I'm glad to see her put work aside for the day. Her laptop stays out of sight until she retrieves it for me so I can Zoom with Sawyer.

I expect her to hover close by and eavesdrop on my conversation in case I ask him for more news from the outside world. She decides to give me some privacy and take Alfie for a walk, though, leaving me alone with her laptop and an internet connection.

It's tempting to check in on the news and social media, but I don't. Trust is a two-way street, after all. If Mom trusts me to steer clear of these things and honor the time out our vacation is supposed to give me, I trust her to tell me any important breaking news after our discussion yesterday.

With that in mind, the only thing I open is Zoom. Sawyer's exuberant face, floppy hair, and bright Hawaiian shirt show up on my screen a few seconds after I sign in.

"Finally!" I squeal. It's only been a few days since I last spoke to him, but it already feels like a lifetime. I don't remember the last time he and I went more than thirty-six hours without even texting.

"I'm so relieved I can finally talk to you," he greets me. "Remind me where your mom is holding you captive without a phone again?"

I laugh at his description of the situation. "We're at a lake outside Thunder Bay, in Ontario. It's close to Minnesota. The lake is nice, but I wish I wasn't cut off from you."

"The name sounds familiar. Give me a sec." He picks his phone up and taps the screen a few times. He reads something, then puts it down again. "Nope, I was wrong. I thought we might have a show there if the tour still happens, but I don't see anything on my website. I feel like someone mentioned Thunder Bay recently, though."

He's much more calm and together than I expected after yesterday's reports, even when he mentions the tour. "If it still happens?" I repeat. "Are they thinking of postponing it because of the news yesterday?"

"I don't know about that. It's more to do with--" Sawyer stops. He twists a beaded mala bracelet on his wrist, which is something he does when he's nervous. "We probably shouldn't be talking about this."

I act like I missed the last thing he said. "It's more to do with...?" He doesn't answer, so I give him a stern look. "Sawyer Santiago, you know better than to keep anything from me. Spill it."

He stops twisting his bracelet. His face is a mixture of apprehension and pain. "Fine, you win. It's more to do with what Bowie has been up to, but your mom will put me on blast if she finds out I mentioned him. We might not get to Zoom again."

"She gave you rules for our conversation?" I may need to reconsider the two-way trust thing.

"She might hear us talking, you know."

"She isn't here right now," I assure him. "Answer me, though. Mom seriously banned you from talking about Bowie?"

"Bowie and the tour," he admits. "It wasn't a ban, exactly, but a strong suggestion that I don't bring either topic up. I figured it was because of your breakup or wanting you to have distance from everything."

"I'm well over the breakup. What did he do?"

Sawyer scowls. "Nothing that would surprise you, other than him running his car into a tree on Mulholland Drive the other night. That, and he's been showing up to rehearsals high or drunk or both, and so have some of his band members. There's also a video of him drinking and acting belligerent at a mansion party that got out online this morning."

"Back up for a second. He ran his car into a tree?" I don't ask if Bowie injured himself or anyone else, although the thought crosses my mind. I also don't know why I care.

"The car was a write-off. He's somehow fine, and no one else was with him. Our tour is still starting on time last I heard, but I don't envy anyone trying to keep him under control on the road. I'll be staying away from him as much as possible."

"What a mess." This is the understatement of the century between yesterday's news and Bowie's latest antics. "Other than him, how do you feel about doing the shows?"

"Good, I guess?" Sawyer spreads his hands out, palms up. He sounds uncertain.

"Are you? I'm worried about you being out there."

"I know, but I'm as good as I can be right now." He's back to twisting his bracelet again, so I'm not convinced he's telling the truth. "The thing about my name being on the list is still just a rumor, and same with the report of other people working with Dallas, so I'm trying not to think about it. How are you doing with the news?"

"Better than yesterday," I say. "I had a panic attack when I heard, and Hunter had no idea what was going on or why."

"Hunter?" he asks.

"A new friend whose family owns the cottage next door to where I'm staying. He was with me when I heard the news on the radio."

"He didn't know why you were reacting to what you heard?" Sawyer gives me a funny look. "I probably don't need to say this, but please don't be friends with someone as self-absorbed and insensitive as Bowie. You don't need any more of that in your life."

"He isn't like that at all," I protest. "Hunter is great, honestly. You'd like him. He just doesn't know about that part of my life."

Now he looks truly perplexed. "He doesn't know what happened at your concert? I know Canada is technically another country, but what happened at The Domino made news headlines around the world."

"He doesn't know I'm Cayden Indigo," I explain. "No one here does. They know me as Deni, someone who's visiting the lake for the summer. It's kind of nice to have a normal life for a while and meet people who are interested in me for reasons that have nothing to do with my music."

"And exactly how interested is Hunter in you?" Sawyer's voice has a teasing lilt to it. He can read me like no one else, which is both a blessing and a curse.

"We're friends," I insist. And we are, even if I'm reading things into a letter that may or may not be there and am harboring a crush. Sawyer doesn't need to know these things at this stage.

"Uh huh." He seems suspicious. "Let me know if I should vet this Hunter guy for you. What's his last name?"

"There's no chance I'm letting you and Carter stalk him online to check him out for me. It isn't like that."

"Yet," he corrects me. "It isn't like that yet. But your face is red, and you seem a little defensive, which tells me everything you aren't saying."

"There's nothing to tell!" I yell at the screen.

"Yet." He grins at me. "For the record, if this is why you said you're well past your breakup with Bowie, then I'm all for it. Just promise me you'll tell Hunter about the other part of your life before your summer fling leaks to the tabloids."

I grit my teeth at his obvious glee when he says "summer fling." We need to clear a couple of things up.

"First, it isn't a fling—or it wouldn't be a fling, I mean. Nothing has even happened. Second, I'm in the middle of a forest at a lake in Canada. There's no way the paps are staked out here, so the risk of anything getting out to the tabloids, real or otherwise, is pretty low."

Sawyer's guffaw prompts me to want to say more in my defense. He holds up his hand to stop me from launching another tirade at him.

"Relax for a second and hear me out." I'm not thrilled about it, but I let him talk. "I know you don't have a phone, but I'm sure other people there do. It's Canada, not another galaxy. There's still a risk of someone taking a photo or video of you and it getting out to the world."

"There is, but there's much less risk of it happening when they don't know I'm Cayden Indigo," I point out. "I'm not wearing my wigs or stage makeup here and so far no one has recognized me."

"Deni." He steeples his fingers together. I can't tell if he's exasperated or just believes I'm hopeless. "I'm saying this with love, but you can't lie to save your life. Your cover may be safe for now, but ask yourself how long you can really keep it up for?"

"I'm not lying," I inform him. "I'm only omitting a few details that don't matter out here. Even my mom is on board with me flying under the radar and having a normal life for the summer."

"I'm sure she is, and I also want you to have that. But if you think Hunter knowing would wreck all of that and ruin your summer, it makes me wonder about him."

"I don't think that," I argue. "It isn't him. Celebrities don't dazzle him at all. In fact, he seems to detest the idea of famous people."

Sawyer snorts. "Okay, maybe I do like this guy. So what's the issue?"

"Other people. His sister is a superfan."

"Then I'm sure you'll have her approval to date her brother."

I ignore him and continue speaking. "I trust Hunter, but what if either of us slipped and his sister found out? Something she and her best friend said the other night makes me think they talk with other fans a lot. If anyone finds out I'm here, I could be in danger, especially if there are other people Dallas talked to about targeting me."

"I see your point with the news yesterday and what we don't know," he concedes. "Just promise me if this does go somewhere, or if Hunter is someone you think you'll still be friends with after you come home, that you'll tell him before someone else does. You deserve to be happy, and I don't want to see something bad happen."

"I'll tell him," I say. And I will, when the time is right. What I don't know at the moment, and what I can't promise Sawyer, is when that time might be.