by Dahlia Adler
“Maybe they should date,” Van joked as she put some gel on her own hands. “They’re certainly a better fit than me and your little friend Nate. What happened to him last night, anyway?”
I grimaced. “What, was my story about him not feeling well not convincing?”
Van rolled her eyes. “Leave the acting to me and your boyfriend, ’kay?”
I forced a laugh, but I couldn’t help thinking about just how much I hated all the acting they were doing. And now today they were volunteering together? I mean, it was incredibly sweet of them to come visit my dad—and obviously to visit the sick at the hospital at all—but did they have to look so…perfect-couple-y doing it?
“Everything okay?” asked Van.
I forced myself to clear my head and smiled. “Everything’s great. Thank you guys so much for coming.”
“Of course!” she replied cheerfully. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to pry Liam away so I can get some time with the patient!”
* * * * *
Van and Liam had been brought to the hospital by limo, so when the time came to leave my dad to his sleepy solitude, I insisted on driving them both home. Liam had never actually been in my old Nissan, but Van slipped right into the passenger seat without even thinking about it, the same way she’d done a million times before. When it became clear she wasn’t going to offer him to switch, he slid into the backseat and closed the door behind him.
“So, your dad seems pretty good,” Van said as I pulled out of the hospital’s parking lot.
“Totally,” Liam echoed, though his optimism was less convincing.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter how he seems, unfortunately,” I said as I pulled up to a red light. “Either the stuff’s working or it isn’t, and it’s too early to really tell.”
“He’s still got his hair,” said Vanessa. “That’s a good sign, right?”
“It’s not chemo,” I reminded her. “Hair loss isn’t a side effect of immunotherapy.”
“Oh.” The car grew quiet for a minute until Vanessa again tried to lift the mood. “So, what are your plans for the rest of break? You have to do something fun!”
I snorted. “Yeah, I’ve tried that a couple of times this week. So far, not that fun. I think I’d rather chill at the hospital.”
“Well, we’re not doing anything now,” said Liam. “Why don’t we all go out?”
I glanced up into the rearview mirror and caught his eye, then raised a brow. “Seriously? After last night, I think I’m done going out in public with you guys. No offense.”
“None taken,” Van said wryly.
“Okay, so we can just go to my apartment and chill,” Liam suggested.
“Lame,” said Van. “We’ve spent the whole day at the hospital. Let’s go out! Do something fun!”
Liam and I exchanged another glance in the mirror. He shrugged helplessly, and I felt so frustrated I was surprised Van couldn’t feel it rolling off me in waves. “You guys go,” I said flatly, unwilling to concede. There was no chance I was sitting through a replay of last night’s date. “I have to work on this project for school. I totally fell behind when my dad was first diagnosed and I promised I’d have it in when I came back from break.” It was a small lie—I had a whole extra week to do it, since my art teacher, Mr. Kim, was about my dad’s age and therefore extra freaked out and sympathetic about the whole situation—but a necessary one.
“Oh, come on,” Van pleaded. “You already got into college. Who cares about one stupid project?”
“I do,” I reminded her. “And so do those lovely people who hand out scholarships. If you wanna go out, just tell me where to drop you off.” Only after I said it did I realize that if she got out of the car alone, Liam and I were free to do whatever we wanted. We could go back to his place, and Van would have no idea. I got so excited by the prospect, I actually felt guilty for how much I was looking forward to dropping her off.
Then Van’s cell phone beeped with a text. “It’s Jade,” she announced. “She says she can get us into the afterparty of the screening of Ryan Gosling’s new movie and we must go.”
A party to celebrate watching a movie. How freaking Hollywood.
Liam groaned. “Can’t we just skip it?”
“Stop being such a hater,” Van chastised him. “It’s bad enough you won’t get a Twitter account.”
I snorted. “You’re one to talk, Van. You make me do all your tweeting for you.”
“Yeah, but at least I tell you what to tweet most of the time. Liam refuses to put any effort into anything.”
“We just went out last night,” he reminded her. “We answered like four hundred thousand questions and smiled for about a zillion cameras. Then we did it again today at the hospital for—” His mouth snapped shut, but before I could ask why he cut himself off, he repeated, “We just did it today. Aren’t you tired?”
“The sun’s not even down yet! Besides, we agreed to Jade’s publicity plan, and this is exactly the kind of thing we talked about.”
Obviously, Van had gotten a lot more sleep than Liam and I had, because I could see with one glance into his baby blues that he was just as ready to collapse as I was after our late night together. I waited for him to tell her no, that he was just going to crash tonight, leaving us free to chill on his couch while Van went out, but when he finally opened his mouth, it was to exhale and say, “Yeah, whatever, let’s go.”
I could feel him trying to meet my eyes in the mirror—whether it was to beseech me to join them or to apologize for having to go, I didn’t know or care. (Much.) A few minutes later, I pulled up in front of Van’s house and let her out so she could change for the party.
As soon as she was safely inside, Liam slid into the front seat next to me. “Listen—”
“Don’t,” I grunted, pulling out of Van’s driveway, all excitement at potentially having the evening together disappearing. Tears pricked my eyes at the realization of just how quickly he would ditch me at someone else’s say-so, especially after last night. It was like I was a freaking understudy in my own relationship, to be brought out only when lead actress Vanessa had other obligations for the night. “I just can’t, okay? It’s been a long day. You’ve got stuff to do, I’ve got stuff to do, let’s leave it at that.”
He opened his mouth and promptly closed it. We drove in silence the rest of the way to his apartment, and when I dropped him off, our goodbye consisted of him pecking me on the cheek before letting himself out of the car.
I finally let go of the tears as I watched him disappear, aware for the millionth time that I was in over my head with their world. I loved Van, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t compete with her. I didn’t look like she or Shannah or Zoe did, and I couldn’t party like them either. I couldn’t make Liam do what I wanted with a snap of my fingers and a “Jade says.” I was basically a way for him to kill time in between doing his famous-person things, whether he saw it that way or not.
Obviously, Nate was right about one thing: Life as it was didn’t seem to be making me happy. But what the hell was I supposed to do about it?
15
THE NEXT DAY, I DIDN’T EVEN bother connecting with either of them; the last thing I wanted to talk about was some stupid Hollywood party I hadn’t been invited to. I rolled out of bed around eleven, thinking how nice it would be if I had the kind of boyfriend I could actually go to a lazy brunch with right now. Since I obviously didn’t, I called Nate. He agreed, if a bit hesitantly, and we met up at the Lunchbox at noon. Normalcy FTW.
“So is this a date?” he asked as soon as we sat down. He didn’t sound hopeful or flirty, just curious.
“I’m not a bitch if I say no, am I?”
“Is this where I’m supposed to say ‘you couldn’t be a bitch if you tried’?”
I smirked. “I wouldn’t even believe you if you said it.”
“Then what made you call?”
The waiter brought us a couple of menus, and I immediately opened mine to study it a
s if I didn’t know the Lunchbox’s brunch offerings by heart. Menus are a totally underrated way to avoid eye contact.
“We’re friends,” I said awkwardly, wondering how true that even was. “I wanted to make sure we were okay.”
It was the truth, but not the whole truth; somehow, I didn’t think Nate would respond well to “I was sad and lonely and wanted waffles with my boyfriend.” Though now he wasn’t responding at all, and after a minute, I was forced to look up to make sure he hadn’t vacated the table.
He hadn’t, but his raised eyebrows and pursed lips made me wish that I could.
“Is that a no?”
“No, it’s not a no. I just don’t understand why you even give a shit. You don’t want to date me, you don’t want to hang out with me and my friends—”
“Yes, I do,” I interrupted quickly. Then I blushed, realizing what I’d just said. “Want to hang out with you and your friends, I mean,” I amended.
He snorted. “So you finally admit that you actually had a good time and didn’t just spend a few hours wishing America’s Sweethearts were there instead?”
“I told you I had a good time,” I replied, though I couldn’t remember if that was actually true. “And I’m not incapable of having fun without Liam and Vanessa, you know.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said dryly.
I was about to respond but the arrival of our waiter cut me off. I ordered my usual brunch selection—banana chocolate-chip pancakes—and Nate got an egg and sausage platter, which was something of a relief since it meant he certainly wouldn’t be trying to kiss me later.
I decided to curtail all talk of Liam and Van; it hurt to think of being ditched by them last night, and I certainly didn’t need Nate to know that. “So,” I began, handing my menu back to the waiter, “what are we doing today?”
Nate took a sip of his water, shooting me an amused look over the rim of his glass. “We?” he asked as soon as he’d swallowed.
I shrugged. “We’re friends, right? We hang out. I wanna hang out.”
He laughed. “No, you don’t. At least not with me.”
“I said that I do,” I reminded him. “Will you stop acting like I’m obsessed with them? They’re my friends—my best friend and my boyfriend. I’m allowed to like them.”
He rolled his eyes, and I knew he was about to go off on yet another rant, so I quickly steered the conversation back to the day at hand.
“Well,” he said, raking a hand through his shaggy hair, “I don’t know about today, but Chase is having a party at his place tomorrow night to celebrate the end of break.”
“Perfect!” I took a long sip of my Arnold Palmer and smiled. “I love parties.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Okay, maybe not, but I will. I am going to love parties. I am going to love Chase’s party.”
Nate laughed. “What’s in that drink of yours?”
I stuck my tongue out at him and tossed my hair back in what I hoped was a firm, defiant gesture. “I am going to learn to appreciate high school and real life,” I informed him.
“So you acknowledge that life among the actors isn’t real?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You know what I mean. Normal, average, daily life.”
He smirked. “You’re not improving your case.”
“Oh, just shut up.” I took another quick sip. “I have a little over four months until my life will never be normal again. I just want to enjoy what there is. I don’t like reporting drama to my dad in the hospital room every day.” I wished I had the menu back so I could avert my eyes again. This was a whole lot more honest than I’d planned to be with Nate. “I just want him to know that I’m going to be okay.”
Nate simply nodded. “You are, you know.”
I fiddled with the scratched-up flatware. “I doubt it. But I’m not ready to think about that yet.”
“Fair enough. So what do you want to do today?”
I thought about how I would’ve answered if Liam had asked, and a flood of options came to mind. I would’ve loved to drive up Pacific Coast Highway to the Getty Villa, which Liam mentioned he’d never done. Or taken him to the La Brea Tar Pits, which he’d loved going to with his mom as a kid but hadn’t returned to since she’d passed away. Or have dinner at the Mongolian barbecue place Liam had gone to the year before and told me I’d love. Or simply walk around the Grove or the Third Street promenade, shopping and holding hands.
But none of that was going to happen with Liam today. And I didn’t want to do any of those things with Nate. The only thing I really wanted Nate for was to escape.
So maybe we would do just that.
“Let’s drive to Mexico,” I blurted.
His eyebrows shot so far up they were practically part of his messy hairline. “You want to go to Mexico? With me?”
“Just for the day,” I clarified quickly. “It’s not so far, and I’ve never been to Tijuana. It’d be fun!”
“Of course it’d be fun,” Nate said, “if you ignore the incredibly long drive and the ridiculous amount of time we’d spend at the border crossing. Anyway, aren’t you forgetting a few things?”
“I don’t think so,” I said sunnily, willing him to shut up.
“Uh, your dad’s in the hospital, you have a boyfriend—”
“Okay, you know what?” I broke in. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. I actually forgot that I have to, um”—think—“take my little sister to the dentist.” Nice. Totally believable. “You’re totally welcome to my pancakes.”
“Ally—”
“Sorry to not eat and run!” I chirped, already up and out of my seat. I dug into my tote and pulled out my wallet, tossing a few bills on the table so quickly I had no idea what they were. It was entirely possible I’d just tipped my entire week’s salary.
“Ally! You can’t just leave—”
“Whoops!” I pretended to look at a watch I wasn’t even wearing. “I’m already late! I’ll see you around, Nate.” I hurried out to my car, turning deaf, humiliated ears to the sound of him calling my name.
* * * * *
When I pulled into my driveway, I was surprised to see another car had beaten me to it. My father was still at the hospital, my mother was at work, and though my mom had been hiring a housekeeper lately to help out a bit, she should’ve been gone by then. Not that any of them drove anything like the black Range Rover I’d just blocked in with my silver Sentra.
I knew only one person with a black Range Rover, but I hadn’t spoken to Liam all day and I couldn’t imagine what he would’ve been doing at my house. And yet, when I let myself through the front door, there he was, sitting on the couch, reading from what looked like sides. I racked my brain to recall if we’d made plans, and though I felt fairly certain we hadn’t, I still braced myself for having to respond to the inevitable “Where were you?” by responding that I’d been at lunch with That Guy You Don’t Like Who Likes Me.
But I needn’t have worried. All Liam did when I walked in was smile like he’d just noticed the sun was out and then get up and walk over to kiss me hello.
“Hey, Al,” he said after the briefest of touches. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be out for a while. Your housekeeper let me in and said she thought you’d just run out for coffee. I guess I lost track of time memorizing lines.” He smiled. “You look cute. I like that shirt.”
Objectively, they were nice words, but they weren’t the ones I needed. “Cute” didn’t make you say “Fuck off” to a publicist and ride off with a girl into the sunset. A shirt I’d had since the eighth grade couldn’t compete with whatever Van and the other actresses present had (or hadn’t) worn the night before. No wonder I always got relegated into the background; I practically faded into it. On what planet did a girl like me belong in a world like theirs?
And how long would I be able to stay in his—their—orbit?
Not to mention that after all my stressing about last night—what he’d been doing with Vanessa, how much fun
they were having—he didn’t seem to give a shit about where I’d been when he arrived. He didn’t even care that there was another guy out there who wanted me. Or did Nate even want me? He hadn’t exactly jumped at the chance to spend more time with me. Maybe I was just unwantable. Either way, my usual butterflies at seeing Liam weren’t the happy-go-lucky type this time around.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, glancing anywhere but at him. “So, what brings you by?”
“I got an audition for the new James Gallagher movie,” he said, oblivious to my less-than-sunny demeanor, “but it’s not for another few hours, so I thought maybe we could hang out.”
The prodigal understudy role returns. “Thanks for squeezing me into your schedule.” I walked past him into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.
If he wasn’t oblivious, he was an even better actor than I thought. “Anything special you want to do?”
I whirled around. “Actually, yes. I’d really like to go to the Getty Villa, or the Tar Pits, or that Mongolian barbecue place. Which of those extremely public things would you like to do with me, your non-celebrity girlfriend?” I asked sweetly.
“Ally…”
I let him trail off, but it was obvious he wasn’t going anywhere. He and I both knew all there was to say about that.
“Fine,” I declared, putting my glass down on the counter. There was more than one way to recover from the fact that we’d both spent the past twenty-four hours with people we shouldn’t have. “New plan.” I walked over to him determinedly and put my hands on either side of his face, pulling it down for a not-so-gentle kiss.
I’d obviously caught him off guard, but it didn’t take long for him to warm up to the kiss and return it with equal fervor.
Until he felt my fingers undoing his belt.
He pulled away, short of breath. “Ally, what are you doing?”
“Nobody’s home,” I reminded him, pulling him back by one of his belt loops. “It’s just you and me and a few hours until your audition.”
