#famous(35)
“Come on in.”
Mary plowed through, beaming so hard you didn’t even notice the sloppy work shirt and rips in her jeans. She was already chattering at full speed. Eddie followed, camera hanging at his side now. I was just about to walk in after them when Rachel’s mom came up beside me.
“You must be Kyle,” she said. Her hair was even curlier than Rachel’s, poofing out from her head in a kind of wiry triangle. Her smile was warm, but she barely looked at me. “You are even more adorable than in that picture.” She walked into the house, calling out, “What can I get everyone to drink? We have milk, and pop, and wine if you want that.”
Everyone seemed to have forgotten about me. It felt strange after the last few days. Unsure what to do, I awkwardly placed the bundle of fries on the ground and walked into the house, closing the door behind me.
chapter twenty-three
RACHEL
FRIDAY, 5:25 P.M.
“Well, that’s everything,” Mary said, standing up and smiling perfunctorily at me. Mom squeezed my shoulder. I shrugged out from under her.
“We’ll just look these over as a family and get back to you. Is that all right?” Mom’s voice turned worried. “I know you folks have tight deadlines, but these are big decisions.”
“Of course that’s all right. We won’t be moving forward before midweek. If you could have them signed and back to us by . . .” Mary scrunched up her nose and looked at the ceiling, like she was fishing for an answer. It seemed contrived. Her whole “look at me, I’m so disheveled because I’m doing creative stuff all the time” vibe felt contrived, actually. She was nice enough, but I didn’t really trust her. Or Mom. Or Mo. I glared at her, sitting on the edge of our brick hearth, just outside the circle discussing my fate. Mo knew better than to make eye contact with me, though.
“. . . Sunday evening?” she finished. “Pacific time, of course. That should give us enough time to come up with material for the next segment. And, of course, if you decide not to move forward, we’d like to know as soon as possible so Laura can plan an alternate segment for Monday’s show.”
“Sure, that shouldn’t be a problem,” Dad said. He was nodding slowly, like he was still taking this all in. I wondered what all Mom had told him. Probably not much; Dad was terrible at keeping secrets. “We’ll talk it over tonight as a family.”
“Shoot, depending on when your flight leaves, we might have an answer to you before you even land in L.A.!” Mom laughed nervously. Mary smiled but didn’t join in.
“Great, then Eddie and I will just get out of your hair,” she said, standing and brushing off the front of her pants. Eddie rose from the love seat he’d been dominating—it was kind of amazing how easily you forgot he was there, since he was approximately the size of an eighteen-wheeler—and they started getting their things together.
“Kyle,” she said, not looking at him. “Do you need us to drop you home?”
He looked around awkwardly from his position against the wall beside the front door. I’d been sneaking glances at him throughout the conversation, but he’d just seemed really ill-at-ease, his arms folded, his head down. It confirmed the nasty, slimy feeling I’d been trying to ignore while Mary talked and Dad furrowed and Mom nodded, wide-eyed: that I was nothing but a setup to him. A chance to be a little more famous a little longer. It was stupid that it hurt. What had I thought, that he planned this whole thing on his own? Of course it had been a producer’s idea.
He couldn’t even look at me.
“That’s okay, I can call my mom or . . . somebody. But do you need the tux?” Suddenly he looked so nervous, like a little kid who wasn’t sure if he’d broken the rules, that I couldn’t help but smile. Kyle definitely wasn’t into me, but he was adorable. No wonder he was so much better on camera than I was.
He glanced my way. Seeing my grin, he frowned for a second, then smiled back, looking down at the floor like he was trying not to laugh.
And a sense of humor. Jesus, I’d be lucky if I didn’t declare my undying love for him the first time they put us in a room together. There was no way this could happen. What they’d already shot was mortifying enough. Too bad there wasn’t a way to say no to the show but convince him not to back out of homecoming.
“That’s yours for now,” Mary said. “It was tailored to you, after all. Just take it to the dry cleaners and send the receipt to the show. We’ll reimburse you. It’s possible we’ll have you wear it to the dance.”
Kyle nodded, eyes still down, cheeks still smiley.
“I’ll drive him,” Mo said. It was the first thing she’d said since we all sat down. “You guys probably have somewhere to be, anyway.”
“Great. Thanks, Jo,” Mary said, smiling perfunctorily. I could see Mo’s jaw tense. Good. She deserved it. “We’ll get going. Can’t wait to get started on this!”
Mary shook Mom’s hand, smiled in a big circle at the rest of us, and whisked out the door, Eddie in tow.
“Text me later, okay?” Mo stopped by the door to look back at me, eyes pleading.
“Don’t worry, I definitely will.” If only to ream her out.
“So was you asking Rachel something the show had planned from the beginning, or . . .” I heard her saying to Kyle as they headed out. Then the door slammed shut.