“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “It’s just . . .” He raised his shoulders and lowered them again, wearily. “Your mother tells me you’ve entered into a relationship with Derek Edwards.”
That’s what this was about? “That’s sort of an overstatement,” I said. “We’ve spent some time together—that’s all.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it. It didn’t make sense to me anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“You and Melinda Anton’s son?” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re far too intelligent to date a mediocre guy just because his parents are famous.”
I struggled for a moment, tempted to just agree with him and escape from the conversation as soon as possible. But it would come up again. Because I was going out with Derek Edwards, and sooner or later Dad would have to know it and be okay with it. “He’s not mediocre,” I said in a low voice.
“Excuse me?”
I swallowed and raised my voice a little. “He’s not mediocre. Derek. He’s not mediocre at all. He’s kind of . . . I really like him, Dad. He’s just as smart as me—”
“As I,” he said automatically.
“He’s nicer than you’d think. Nicer than I realized at first.” It was so frustrating: my father had the wrong idea of Derek Edwards, but it was the same idea I’d once had of him. “I know his parents are movie stars and all that, but that’s not who he is. He’s so close to his sister—you’d like that, the way he defends her and looks out for her. He’s a little hard to get to know, so at first I thought maybe he was stuck-up, but he’s not. Not at all.” I wished I could tell him about Layla and how he had come to her rescue and Campbell’s, too, but I knew I shouldn’t. So I just said, “He’s a good guy, Dad. Really.”
He fixed me with a sharp gaze. “And if his father’s name were Joe Smith? And his mother’s Jane Doe?”
I raised my chin. “I would like him just as much—and would probably have liked him a lot sooner because I wouldn’t have made some wrong assumptions about him based on who his parents were.”
He considered that. He still seemed a little dubious. “Historically, Elise, you’ve always been my most rational child—”
“I still am, Dad.”
“Just give me your word that you won’t get sucked into this city’s value system—that you’ll hold on to your integrity.”
“I promise.”
“All right then. I’ll trust you to be smart about this.” He patted the arm of his chair. “Now come over here. Let’s do that crossword puzzle.” Once I was seated close to him, he rested his head briefly against mine. “No one’s good enough for you,” he murmured, almost too softly for me to hear.
Then he sat up and pulled the paper toward us.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Diana’s reaction to the news I was going out with Derek Edwards was more upsetting because she was so congratulatory. “Excellent, Elise,” she said, when I told her on the phone later that weekend. “That’s really cool. So you got over the fact that he’s a jerk?”
“I was wrong about that. He’s really not.”
“Because he really isn’t or because his mother’s Melinda Anton?”
“Because he really isn’t,” I said. “And anyway, you were the one who thought I should be friends with him because of who his mother is.”
“Yeah, and you were the one who got all self-righteous about it.”
“I didn’t get all self-righteous.” I took a deep breath. “He’s nice, Diana—that’s why I changed my mind.”
“Right,” she said, and I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. “So when do I get to meet him?”
“Soon,” I said. “So long as you promise not to talk business with him.”
“I promise,” she said. “But if you see Melinda, you have to tell her about Dad’s catering and how good it is.”
“I can’t do that!”
“I know. I wish you could, though. He needs the work.” Then she said, “But it’s really cool you’re dating him. It’s really, really, amazingly cool.” A beat. “Hey, guess what my boyfriend’s father does—”
“What?”
“He’s a dentist.” She sighed comically. “Nothing cool about that at all.”
“Free dental floss?” I suggested.
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “That’s way cool.”
I laughed, but I hung up later wishing I hadn’t once told Diana I thought Derek was a jerk. It made me look like I’d changed my mind for the wrong reasons.
Both Dad’s and Diana’s reactions made me realize how impossible it was going to be to convince people I liked Derek for who he was and not for who his parents were.
I said something about that to Juliana, and she said soothingly, “Don’t worry, Lee-Lee. I know you don’t like Derek because his parents are movie stars.”
“Thank you.”
“You like him because he’s so rich.”
“Very funny. I could easily say the same thing about you and your boyfriend, you know.”
“I love Chase because he’s the nicest guy in the world,” she said, more seriously.
“Yes, well, as much as I like Derek, I can’t—” I stopped abruptly. “Wait a second—you just said that you love Chase!”
“I know.” She hid her face in her hands. “It slipped out.”
“Do you think you do?”
“I’ve never liked any guy this much before,” she said, peeking out. “That’s all I know.”
“And that’s all ye need know,” I intoned.
“Derek?” I said on Friday night, as we walked from the cinema to his car after seeing a junky action movie that redeemed itself only by putting its protagonist in so much peril that I had a constant excuse to cling to Derek’s arm.
“What?” Actually, I don’t think he said the word, but his hand squeezed mine in an unmistakably questioning way.
“Did you start to like me because I was mean to you?”
He laughed. “Why? Do I seem like a masochist?”
“I know it’s a weird question. But I started wondering why you liked me—I didn’t see a lot of good reasons—and I thought maybe it was because so many of the other girls fawn all over you and you hate that. So maybe you liked that I was kind of mean to you.”
He stopped and leaned against a tree trunk, thinking. Then he held his arms out and I moved into them. “It wasn’t meanness,” he said. “That’s the wrong word. But I guess maybe on some level I liked that you were . . . challenging.”
“Challenging?” I repeated. “That’s what you call a little kid who’s a pain in the butt.”
“Fits you, doesn’t it? Plus you were funny and cute and nice to your sister. I liked that you were willing to get wet for her. And I liked that when you were wet, you smelled like mint.” He sniffed at my hair. “Still do a little, come to think of it.”
“That’s this cheap shampoo Mom buys. Juliana uses it, too, but don’t start sniffing her. Or my mother. Or anyone except me.”
“Mmm,” he said, a little distracted now, nuzzling into the crook of my neck.
“Hey, look.” I pulled away from him so I could point up at the sky. “A star. Seen by the naked eye. And Cantori said that wasn’t possible in L.A. these days.”
He put his head back and squinted up at the darkness. “Actually, I think that’s an airplane.”
“Really? It looks like a star to me.”
He shook his head. “It’s definitely an airplane. That’s just the light on the tail—see? It’s moving.”
“Rats,” I said.
“Disappointed?” He pulled me hard against him. “Did you want to make a wish? You still can, you know. Who says you can’t wish on an airplane?”
I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. “Nah, I’m okay.”
I had no problem wishing on an airplane.
I just couldn’t think of anything left to wish for.
> About the Author
Claire LaZebnik lives in Los Angeles with her TV-writer husband and four children. She is the author of the novels IF YOU LIVED HERE, YOU’D BE HOME NOW; THE SMART ONE AND THE PRETTY ONE; KNITTING UNDER THE INFLUENCE; and SAME AS IT NEVER WAS. She is also the co-author of OVERCOMING AUTISM and GROWING UP ON THE SPECTRUM. You can visit her online at www.clairelazebnik.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Credits
Cover art © 2011 by Getty Images / Nicole Hill
Cover design by Tom Forget
Copyright
Epic Fail
Copyright © 2011 by Claire LaZebnik
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-0-06-192126-1
EPub Edition © AUGUST 2011 ISBN: 9780062093257
* * *
11 12 13 14 15 XXXXXX 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
25 Ryde Road (P.O. Box 321)
Pymble, NSW 2073, Australia
www.harpercollins.com.au/ebooks
Canada
HarperCollins Canada
2 Bloor Street East -20th Floor
Toronto, ON, M4W, 1A8, Canada
http://www.harpercollins.ca
New Zealand
HarperCollins Publishers (New Zealand) Limited
P.O. Box 1
Auckland, New Zealand
http://www.harpercollins.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
77-85 Fulham Palace Road
London, W6 8JB, UK
http://www.harpercollins.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
10 East 53rd Street
New York, NY 10022
http://www.harpercollins.com
Epic Fail Page 20
