#famous(59)

“I wouldn’t be embarrassed anyway.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow, mouth tight. She didn’t say anything, turning to look at the TV instead. I kept looking at her for a second, hoping she’d turn back. Did she know I meant it? I wasn’t just being polite. Me: filterless. Ollie reminded me all the time. I’d have probably told her I would be embarrassed if that were the truth. But she just kept staring at the TV. Sighing, I sat back. Laura was just finishing up her monologue.

“. . . and then we’ll be talking with the cast of Cirque du Soleil. Which reminds me, audience members, beware of falling acrobats, okay?”

People laughed. I glanced at Rachel. She was still staring intently at the screen, her jaw twitching.

“Before we get to that, though, you remember Kyle Bonham, right? We had him on the show last week after he pretty much broke the internet.”

The picture of me in my uniform flashed onscreen. My stomach flipped for a second, but I was starting to get used to seeing myself places. Rachel’s mouth came open a little, like she was breathing in the show.

“And we got to thinking, ‘a kid this cool needs to go to homecoming in style,’ am I right?” The audience cheered their approval. I grinned. If the Laura audience was any gauge, people were liking Mary’s plan. It felt good. Like I’d achieved something major. “We thought we’d help out. Here, take a look for yourself.”

There I was, in a tux, in the back of the van, clutching the fries. “Are you nervous?” someone asked off-camera. “Yeah, mainly because I smell like a fryolator.” The audience laughed.

The camera was trailing me up to the door. I knocked. Rachel opened it. Then closed it. I laughed. They couldn’t have scripted a better moment. Real-life Rachel stared at me, eyes huge and round, then turned back to the TV.

The door opened again, and I did my down-on-one-knee bit. She said yes, we hugged, and they cut back to the studio. The whole thing was three minutes, tops.

I turned to say something about being relieved it was over, even though I was kind of bummed. The more I did this, the more I craved that moment, the intensity spiking through me when I knew people were watching.

But Rachel wasn’t there. Well, she was, but she’d totally collapsed into herself, both knees drawn up, face buried deep between them.

“Rachel?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Hey, Rachel, are you okay?” I put my hand on her back. I could feel her muscles tensing beneath it.

“How do you do it?” She was talking into her legs, so it came out echoing and fuzzy.

“Do what? The show? I mean, you saw me, I wasn’t exactly smooth.”

“No, not the show.” She turned her head my way. Half her face was still in the shadow of her legs. It made her look mysterious, and a little wild, like some old-timey movie star. “Well, yeah, the show too, but more . . . how do you watch yourself doing it?”

“I mean, it’s embarrassing for sure.” I actually hadn’t thought about it until that moment, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Rachel blinked rapidly, her forehead scrunching up in disbelief. I had to stop myself from reaching out and touching her cheek. Touching her face: weird, not what she wanted. Right? “But it’s only a few minutes, how bad can it be?”

“I guess.” She exhaled and straightened out a little. She looked frustrated, almost angry. I wanted her to look at me again.

“But Rachel, you were awesome just now.”

“Were you watching the same show I was?”

“The one where you were funny, like always, even though you didn’t know we’d be showing up? And the audience obviously loved you? ’Cause that’s what I saw.”

She turned to look at me full-on. Her looking at me: an electric shock. Suddenly I was really aware of my hand on her back, of the warmth of her skin through her shirt. I could even feel her breathing. She forced half a smile on.

“Well, at least the trolls will probably have something new to say. Should be fun peering under the bridge now, right?” Cheeks: stretching farther, but looking more and more grimacey.

“But who cares? I mean, they’re just angry jerks with nothing better to do.”

“I know. Totally.” Her face looked like it had frozen that way.

“You know what, I bet you’re wrong anyway.” I squeezed her arm. She inhaled rapidly, like I’d surprised her, but didn’t move away. That was fine. We were friends now and that was friendly. “I bet you’re gonna get all kinds of love for how awesome you just were.”

“How much of that burger money are you looking to lose, Kyle?”

“I’m good for twenty dollars if you are. After all, we’ll probably both have, like, endorsement deals soon, so why not live a little, right?”

Rachel grinned. Not a full-on laugh, but a lot better than the pained, fake smile.

“When you sing, do little birds come and do your hair for you? I swear, Kyle, you’re the most sunshiney person I’ve ever met.”

“Naw, I’m just confident I got this one.”

“You’re confident about everything.” Rachel actually laughed. Score.

“Here.” I grabbed my phone and clicked on Flit, ignoring the several thousand notifications from the last twenty minutes. “I’ll prove it.”