My mom’s minivan pulls up next to the pink convertible, and the second she opens her door she calls out in a high-pitched voice, “Zelda Fitzgerald! Who’s a good dog?”
The Chihuahua leaps away from Lana’s grasp and takes off toward my mom, waggling with so much joy she can’t even run in a straight line.
We all scream as the shadow of Aunt April’s RAV4 falls over the dog, threatening to hit Evil Z. But luck is better than sense for a dog, and the Chihuahua leaps neatly into my mother’s arms just in time.
Aunt April opens her driver’s side door and hops down, landing with both strappy heels together and not bothering to shut the door. She rushes toward the swing set.
Lana has jumped back on her swing and the two of us instinctively start pumping our swings back and forth as fast as we can. As if we can swing high enough to get away from her mom.
Thankfully, my mom manages to head off Aunt April at the edge of the playground before she gets close to reaching us. Shaking the Chihuahua in Aunt April’s face, the two of them start yelling at each other.
“What on earth are they fighting about now?” Aunt May asks us as Lana and I relax our swinging. “I mean, I get June’s rage over nearly having her dog squished, but why is April coming in so hot?”
“That would be because of me,” I say. “She’s upset because I don’t want to perform tonight.”
“Lana’s going through some stuff,” Lana says. “She needs a break from her whole Lookie Lana! world. It’s time for her to get honest with her mom and start living offline.”
I look over at her as we pendulum back and forth. “Are you totally sure about that?” I ask. “This can’t be about letting the haters win.”
Lana relaunches herself and pumps her swing higher while I wait for her to answer. Finally, I relaunch as well and work to catch up.
I’m already gaining on her when she finally answers.
“The haters only win if I allow the hate to get inside of me and make me hate. I need to break free and start spending more time with the people I love. That’s how hate gets crushed with love.”
“Well said.” I point my tiny feet as they go soaring high in the air.
Lana and I look at each other, and in that moment our swinging falls into perfect sync. I feel dizzy as we lock in our gaze and glide back and forth and back and forth together while the rest of the world dips and rises in a blur. We stay connected as we swing, and the knot in my chest loosens. This moment feels . . . real. And it is filled with forgiveness, and acceptance, and love.
I don’t know what’s next.
But I do know Lana and I will have each other’s backs. No matter what.
chapter 25
My cousin and I keep our swings in sync for an unnaturally long time, but I finally break eye contact when we hear a sharp “Lana!” from down below.
It’s so disorienting, I nearly fall off my swing.
Everything blurs for a moment and I blink a few times, trying to force my eyes to focus. I see Aunt April storming toward us and I falter, making my swing lurch awkwardly.
Aunt May stands up from her swing and steps too close as she fluffs out her skirt. I avoid kicking her by shifting direction in midair and start twisting and untwisting out of control.
Ignoring the way my swing is halting and jumping through space, Aunt May points at me and says angrily, “If you don’t want to sing tonight, Lana, you shouldn’t have to.”
“I literally cannot sing,” I call as I start dragging my feet to stop my clumsy spiraling.
With that, Aunt May pivots and storms toward Aunt April. But my mom is chasing after her sister too and beats Aunt May to the punch. Or maybe that should be she beats her to the pull, because that’s just what she does.
Before Aunt April gets to the edge of the playground, my mother yells, “April! We’re not finished!” and shifts her precious Chihuahua to one hand so she can reach out and yank her sister’s hair.
Aunt April’s head snaps back so hard, Lana and I both flinch and say, “Oh!”
She covers her head and screams, “What the heck, June?”
My mom yells, “Do you have any idea how long I wouldn’t have spoken to you if you’d actually hit Zelda? She’s part of the family.”
“Well, it’s not like we talk much anyway,” Aunt April says. “And Zelda has bitten every member of this family, including me. Why are you even here, June?”
“I’m here to pick up my dog, who you nearly ran over.”
“Yeah, well, I’m here to pick up my daughter and bring her to one of the most important performances of her life,” Aunt April says.
Across from me, Lana launches her swing again and straightens her arms so that on the forward upswing she’s practically upside down.
Aunt May cuts into her sisters’ argument, “Hey, April? Did you ever bother to ask Lana if she wants to sing? Or if she even cares about being famous? Or is that still your dream?”
“How about you float off in a bubble and let me handle this, May,” my mom says. “Since you somehow couldn’t even handle a little three-pound Chihuahua.” Zelda starts licking my mom’s face in the greatest display of phony innocence of all time.
“That little demon creature has been torturing my poor babies all day,” Aunt May says.
“They’re not babies,” my mom and Aunt April yell in unison.
Which is my cue to tune out. I’ve managed to get my swing going strong again, and my arms and legs are tired from pumping but I push myself to swing even higher.
Lana starts humming so loud she’s practically screaming with her lips closed. I join in, less in-tune but loud enough to block out the arguing down below.
We swing higher and higher together.
Our moms and Aunt May all love each other, but almost every time the three sisters get together, things get heated. I’ve come to realize it’s not worth getting upset over. They always work things out, but the way they clash will never stop making me uncomfortable.
And the three of them are building up to a big, bitter sister battle right now.
I’m swinging so high it feels as if I just may achieve my life’s dream of flipping all the way around when a strong voice interrupts my concentration.
“Is this swing taken?” Her Highness asks as she sits primly between us on Aunt May’s swing. Apparently, she got sick of waiting in the RAV4, and has already hung her bedazzled backpack on the swing set’s crossbar, above where I dumped mine on the ground.
The veteran beauty guru hikes the skirt of her dress up a bit, walks her swing backward, and launches for a strong start, pointing her high-heeled toes together. “So,” she says to me, “you’re supposed to be the next big thing on the beauty scene?”
“Actually”—Lana slows a bit to talk to Her Highness—“Lana and I were just discussing the sacrifices involved and deciding whether or not it’s all worth it.”
“Any advice from Her Highness?” I call as I swing past.
“This life can be all consuming and exhausting,” Her Highness says. “And believe it or not, the more well-known you get, the more lonely and isolating it gets.”
“So why do you do it?” Lana asks her seriously.
“Because I am in love with this.” Her Highness swings higher as she builds speed. “It’s just who I am.”
“If you didn’t love it, just maybe enjoyed certain parts of it, would it still be worth doing?” Lana asks.
HH swings for a few beats, thinking. “Okay, so the money can be sick,” she says, “Like, I cannot believe how much I’m able to pull in when I hustle. But at some point, the money is meaningless. It all just owns you. The show, the brands, the fans.” She swings a few more pumps and adds, “If I wasn’t in love with it, I probably wouldn’t love it. Know what I mean?”
“Kind of.” Lana leans back on her swing. “Lately Lana just feels so buried by it all.”
“Yup, under six feet of stress,” I affirm as I swing by.
“Just wait,” Her Highn
ess tells me. “You only get buried more once you sign with sponsors. I have to be careful with what words I use and where I’m spotted. For instance, it would be death to my brand if someone ever posted a photo of me in the drugstore cosmetics aisle.”
“You can’t even buy cotton balls?” I ask as I continue swinging.
“I basically use beauty blenders for everything,” Her Highness says. “And with my latest deal, I’m required to post at least five videos every week. Even more when a new product launches.”
Lana says, “I can’t be creative under pressure. I need to be inspired. I don’t even think I can churn out decent videos quickly on demand.”
“I didn’t know you had a station too.” HH looks Lana up and down. “Um, glamping style shortcuts maybe?”
Lana looks at her and laughs. “Good one,” she says. “But I’m actually a movie buff with sophisticated taste in classic horror films. I’ve developed a fascinating philosophy that views Jamie Lee Curtis as a sage who holds all life’s wisdoms.”
The two of us look across at each other and smile. “She’s the ultimate scream queen,” I say as I glide higher.
“Nice,” Her Highness says. “Did you know Curtis was one of the first female celebrities to appear in a women’s magazine without an ounce of makeup or retouching?”
“Really.” Lana sounds fascinated.
“Yup, she did a whole before and after photoshoot with and without makeup and Spanx to show what a dramatic difference it made,” HH says. “Very real and empowering and fabulous!”
“Zero surprise,” I say. “JLC is pure royalty.”
“My blue-blooded sister.” Her Highness takes a hand off the chain to touch her crown.
“That is, with an emphasis on the blood.” I laugh, and the others look grossed out. “Because of the horror movies . . . ?” I start to explain and give up.
Her Highness calls out, “Who’s ready to jump with me?”
I say, “Jumping at this height takes skill.”
HH pumps higher. “I take swing dismounts to a whole ’nother level.”
“Oh, but dismounts happen to be my specialty,” I say.
She warns, “Style counts as much as distance.”
It is on!
I even out my pace and feel for the rhythm so I’ll be able to time my jump perfectly.
“Wait.” Without missing a leg pump, Her Highness turns to Lana. “You, brunette horror girl.”
“It’s Ricki,” Lana says.
“Can you record Lana and me jumping off the swings? It could be a perfect clip for us to share as a follow-up to our scene at the mall.”
“Let’s just be fully present for this.” Lana smiles at me. “Keep it ours instead of sharing it with the world.”
“Fine.” Her Highness grumbles. “We’ll do this dark, but it feels like a waste.”
All three of us pump ourselves higher and higher.
I reposition my grip on the chains, pulling my elbows down and around so they’re pointing forward. “Ready?” I say.
Her Highness and I count down together, “Three! Two! One!”
Lana straightens her legs and starts dragging her feet. “Yeah, I’m not doing that,” she says, which doesn’t surprise me since she’s never been good at jumping off swings.
What does surprise me, however, is the effect my lighter body and smaller size have on my legendary classic dismount.
I’m gleeful when I launch myself into the air at the moment of maximum velocity. It’s not until I’m careening through space that I realize my mistake. I’m much more aerodynamic today.
Like, much more.
Her Highness has jumped just a half beat before me and so I watch her do an admittedly impressive dismount in what feels like slow motion. My body is still flying higher and higher as she lands softly with her high heels together. She pops her arms proudly in the air, Olympic-gymnast-style.
I careen toward her, watching helplessly as she holds her pose. I can’t slow down or shift my trajectory and she is directly in my path.
She gets closer and closer, faster and faster, and I have no choice but to use Her Highness as my landing pad.
I slam into her so hard that despite my lightweight physique and her firm gymnast stance, I completely take her down.
The two of us tumble on the ground and roll over each other a few times before coming to a stop next to the slide. Her Highness is laying on her back and miraculously has both her high heels still on her feet despite the skewed angle of her legs.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I haven’t done a swing jump in so long, it’s like I’m a different person.”
Lana laughs so hard she can barely catch her breath. “Wow, was I ever wrong about not recording that. It was epic.”
I’m brushing as much dust as possible off of my pink dress while privately also checking to see if I’ve fractured any bones. And I’m not talking about just my own. Her Highness hasn’t moved since breaking my landing, and although she didn’t get hit with “full-sized” me, I flew at her like a blonde bullet. I feel along her arms for any place that bends wrong.
“Are you okay, H?” I say. “Stomp once for no and twice for yes.”
Her Highness kicks one high heel into the air and dramatically stomps it down once, but then bursts into such laughter it’s clear she’ll be fine.
“Why am I even here?” she asks the sky between breaths.
“I figured you came with Aunt April hoping to get a ride to Digifest,” Lana says. “I know your manager left and your channel’s been in a slump, but your fans would be really happy to see you.”
“Way to kick a gal when she’s down. Literally.” Her Highness points into the air. “First rule of the slump—never talk about the slump! It angers the wrathful Algorithm Gods.”
“You’re not cursed,” Lana says. “You just need a little reboot.”
“Which is why I was angling for a ride so I could do a surprise meet ’n’ greet at Digi.” Her Highness holds out her hands toward me and waggles her fingers until I lean over to help her up. “Except now it seems that none of us are making the trip to LA anytime soon.”
We look over at the three still-fighting sisters. Even Zelda is bearing her teeth.
Aunt April waves her arms in frustrated fury as she gestures to Evil Z and shouts loud enough for us to hear, “Would it really be that big a deal if I’d hit that vile hairball?”
I tell Lana and H, “Yeah, we’re going to be here for a while.”
“What time are you scheduled to go onstage?” Her Highness asks me while brushing herself off.
I say, “Nine o’clock, I think?” and Lana nods.
Her Highness straightens her skirt, checks her phone, and gives a low whistle. “It’s going to be tight, but wow, what a sweet time slot. Your mom really knows how to w-e-r-k werk it, because I’ve checked out your channel and stats and you’re not quite there yet. No offense.”
“No offense taken,” I say.
“Maybe a little offense.” Lana wrinkles her nose. “But you’re not wrong,” she says, “Lana’s mom can be a bit of a bulldog, and Digi bloggers will probably rip Lana apart if she tries to sing onstage. Especially tonight.”
I point at Lana and nod. “That’s a cuppa tea right there.”
Lana says, “Not even driving the pink Skylark convertible onstage can save her now.”
“Is that why I had to get that car for tonight?” I say. “Because I felt insecure?”
“The trolls were going to annihilate you online no matter what,” Lana says. “But at least the car would’ve made for an undeniably iconic image to go with their vile comments.”
“So, why do it?” I ask. “If there really is no winning.”
“Because you don’t just walk away from that type of opportunity?” Lana shrugs. “Whether you want to or not.”
“Well, that settles it,” Her Highness says. “You must make it to Digifest on time. I may be jelly, but I’m still your glamour sister, and that pin
k convertible will have you collecting clicks like candy on Halloween. This night is your game changer, girl.”
Her Highness claps her long-fingered hands together, grabs her bedazzled duffel, and spins on her high heel toward our aunt and mothers.
Lana grabs my arm as soon as H is beyond earshot. “I just had the most epic idea for how to get you out of this so you don’t have to sing.”
“Let Her Highness take the car and the spot at Digi?” I say quickly.
“Yes!” Lana says. “She’ll be super entertaining for the crowd. She can drive onstage in the convertible and perform and just be her fabulous self. People will love it. Everyone wins.”
We look over to where Her Highness has interrupted the three sisters with her hands held up dramatically. She calls out. “Sisters!” as she strides toward them.
My mom crosses her arms and Aunt April looks at her watch and calls out to me, “Let’s go, Lana!” She claps her hands. “Move, move, move! Or that extra L in your logo is going to stand for Landfill!”
“Maybe we should record this part after all,” Lana says as she takes a deep breath and turns toward the parking lot. “I’m about to provoke the sisterhood.”
My heart starts beating with fear. Our moms and their sister are a force unto themselves and I feel like my cousin is charging into the center of a hot-tempered cyclone.
So I charge right in after her.
chapter 26
“This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance,” Her Highness is saying when we approach. “You need to get this pink convertible and your girl over to that LA Digi-venue now!” H gestures to the pink convertible with two long fingers.
Aunt April waves her arms and tells her sisters, “See? I’ve been trying to tell you two this is huge.” She stops when she sees Lana and me approaching. “Thank goodness. Let’s go, Lana, you can get ready in the car.”
I stop and cross my arms as Lana walks right past the group and continues on to the Skylark. We all watch as she dives face-first into the back seat of the convertible. Her feet kick up in the air while she crawls deeper and deeper into the car, reaching around for something underneath the rear seat.
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