Fame, Fate, and the First Kiss(46)

“I’ve long suspected that might be the case.” I put my feet up on the wall beside my bed. “I’ve been told people give me anything I want.”

“Whoever told you that should’ve kept it to themselves.”

“He really should’ve, because now I’m impossible to deal with.” I tapped my foot on the wall, knowing I should probably hang up but not ready to. “So . . . how’s life?”

He chuckled a little. “Are you bored, Lacey?”

“Yes, tell me more about you. I know you have a younger sister. Any other siblings?”

“No, just me and her.”

“And what do your parents do?”

“My mom is a nurse, and my dad is a camera operator.”

“Like for movies?”

“For a news station right now.”

“That’s cool. I’ve always thought that would be a fun job.”

“It’s not as glamorous as it seems.” Was that bitterness in his voice?

“You’re right. Fun and glamour are two totally different things. Do you not get along with your dad?”

“Not usually.”

That sounded like my life lately. “Why?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re nosy?”

“Yes, actually. But then they answer me anyway.”

“You really are impossible,” he said.

“And yet . . .”

“My dad? You want to know about my dad.”

“Yes.”

“My dad is the type of person who says he’s going to be there, show up for things, and only does about ten percent of the time.” Considering how private Donavan was, I suspected that was hard for him to say.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ve long stopped expecting him to, but my sister still holds out hope, and that’s what makes me angry.”

“Is it because he’s busy? I mean, what’s his excuse?”

“Work. Always work. He’s always trying to get ahead. He takes on all sorts of side projects—short films and indie features—thinking that one day some big production company is going to pick him up, but the odds of that happening are so low.”

“It’s easy to start thinking that something is going to launch a career. I mean that’s what I’m doing: taking on this campy horror in hopes it will send me to the next level.” The now familiar anxiety that accompanied that thought expanded in my chest.

“It’s not the same,” Donavan said. “You’re seventeen. He’s been running in circles at the expense of his family for decades.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

I should’ve hung up now, let him go to bed or do whatever it was that he was doing before he called. I sensed he didn’t want to be on the phone with me talking about this. But I couldn’t end our conversation on that note. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” he asked.

“It was a pretty straightforward question.”

“I’m talking to you.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Before this I was writing a review of Sail in the Wind.”

“Oh yeah? Was it good?”

“It was actually.” Two breaths went by, then he said, “What about you? What were you doing before this?”

“I was not getting abducted.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“I know. I got locked out and my dad’s on a date and he leaves keys lying around by the front door. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“Does your dad go out a lot?”

I rolled over onto my stomach and propped my head up with one hand. “That’s a good question. I didn’t know he went out at all, so this is news to me.”

“And you don’t like his date?”

Had I sounded like I didn’t like her? “I don’t know who she is. So, yes, I probably hate her.”

He laughed a little. “I suppose it’s good that everyone starts on an even playing field with you. Even if it means you don’t like anyone in the beginning.”

“So true.” That really was true. How had I not realized that about myself until now? Probably because I was really good at faking it until said people eventually grew on me. But Donavan had obviously seen through that. I took a deep breath. “It’s just I’m . . .” What was I? Was I upset about the date? I didn’t think so. “I actually have the opposite problem as you in the dad department.”

“How so?”

“My dad is always around, always there. And you’d think that would be a good thing, that I would feel supported, but it’s actually the opposite. I don’t think he’s there to see me or hear me. I feel like he’s there waiting for something to go wrong, waiting for my dreams to blow up in my face. And I’m sure he’ll be there to support me then, but somehow he can’t bring himself to actually support me now.” I’d just said all that out loud to my tutor. Why? I was usually pretty open, but only because I didn’t ever share anything important. I wanted to take it all back, I felt exposed. Like I’d let him see some of my insecurities. The one that said: I need my dad to be proud of me in order to feel accomplished. “Anyway,” I said, when he didn’t say anything. “Poor me, right? I get to star in a movie.”