#famous(74)

“I care what everyone thinks.”

“No you don’t. Or at least, you don’t let it change you. I feel like I’ve spent the last four years auditioning to be my brother, and it wasn’t until I met you that I realized I didn’t want the part.”

“Well, good,” I said. “No one remembers an understudy.”

Kyle laughed. Then he shook his head, staring at me. His eyes were still sparkling, happy, but he wasn’t laughing anymore. He was intent. I saw his gaze drift lower, linger on my mouth . . .

Then he leaned in to kiss me.

It felt like something had exploded in my chest, burst open like a flower toward the sun. I wrapped my hands around his neck, and he pushed me backward against the wall, leaning into me with his whole body, like any space between us would hurt.

Thank god the cameras hadn’t found us yet.





chapter fifty-two


KYLE

SATURDAY, 10:31 P.M.

Rachel heard it before I did. She pulled away. Rachel: flushed this beautiful shade of pink, blinking fast, stupid-long lashes fluttering up and down like a fan, smiling in that private way, like she couldn’t not. I leaned back into her.

She nodded toward the other end of the hall.

Shoes clacked sharply against the speckled stone floors of this corner of Apple Prairie High. Rachel raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll go see what’s up,” I whispered. “Or we could both go?”

“No, you go. I need a second. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay.”

I stared at her for a second, every part of me wanting to forget whoever was at the other end of the hall and just grab her again. She raised an eyebrow.

“Go.” Dimple: out. “If it’s one of the camera guys I’d rather not have them find us first, all right?”

I sighed dramatically. Rachel laughed, and I walked off. It wasn’t until I was just a few feet away that I realized who it was.





chapter fifty-three


RACHEL

SATURDAY, 10:33 P.M.

I waited until Kyle walked away from whoever he was talking to to stride down the hallway, focusing on every step. Confident strides! Nothing to see here! This girl not only belongs in this off-limits area, she definitely wears heels regularly!

I tried not to giggle out loud. I felt so fizzy and light, it was like laughter was preloaded in my mouth. Like Kyle had left some of his there as a parting gift.

I turned the corner back toward the cafeteria.

Dave Rouquiaux was standing there.

“Hey, Rach,” he said. We’d never spoken before. It was weird trying to figure out who knew my name before the show and just never bothered using it, and who had only learned about my existence from TV.

“Hey, Dave.” I could feel my cheeks going hot. Could he see it on me? Did I even care? “What’s going on?”

“Hey. I told her I’d wait here for you.” He squint-leered. Dave was a little . . . weird. “I guess they’re setting up, like, confessional footage? You know, away from the dance floor, actually talking.”

“Oh, okay.” I nodded rapidly. Mary must have sent Dave out to find us. “Where should I go?” I felt so buoyant still, the idea of talking straight to a camera didn’t even scare me. At least not too much. Maybe Kyle was right, maybe things could be good scary.

“They set up in Ms. Laurila’s room. But they won’t need you yet. If you wanna, you know . . .” Dave made a circling gesture around his face. “Clean up or whatever.”

I raised a hand to my face, suddenly self-conscious. What did I look like for Dave to be telling me to fix myself? But it hadn’t stopped Kyle. . . .

Still, this was national television. Kyle’s not your audience, Rach.

“Sure. Will you tell them I’ll just be a few minutes? I have to find my purse.”

“Yup.” Dave nodded, not looking at me. Was he blushing?

I checked to make sure a boob hadn’t fallen out. We hadn’t even made it that far, but it would be just my luck to be talking to Dave Rouquiaux half-topless.

But I was decent. So just mottled and unpresentable, then.

“Thanks,” I yelled over my shoulder, running around the cafeteria to the tables where we’d left our things.

I thought Dave would already have headed off toward the producers, but he just stood there, watching, tapping something into a phone.





chapter fifty-four


KYLE

SATURDAY, 10:34 P.M.

I opened the door to Ms. Laurila’s room. That’s where Dave said the camera would be.

The camera: there. Also there: Emma, staring at her phone screen.

“Uh, hey,” I said. “Maybe I’m not in the right place. Dave said they wanted Rachel and me to do some talking to the camera stuff?”

“Yeah, they do.” Emma smiled. “When I told Jimmy about you and me, he thought it would be interesting for us to do one together. I guess Mary agreed, so . . .”

“What do you mean, you and me?” I looked over at the cameraman. Jimmy, apparently. “Is he recording?”

“No, that’s just the power light.”

“Well, either way, there’s nothing to talk about.” I turned toward the door. Emma grabbed at my hand. I shook it off. She looked like I’d slapped her. “I’m not trying to be mean, Em, just . . . there’s no us anymore.”