Apple didn’t look at Jim—Mr. Kelly—as she sat down beside Happy in class.
“Can you believe this, Happy?” Apple asked. “It’s like everyone knows who I am now.”
“It is quite unbelievable,” Happy answered. “I’m proud of you. You’re just going to become a bigger star when Angst TV starts. When is that?”
“It airs next week, but we start taping today! I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m kind of excited,” Apple said.
“You are? I thought you loathed going on television,” Happy said. “I thought you were dreading it.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I was just being a brat about it. Now I’m excited,” Apple admitted.
“You should be excited. People would die to be in your position,” Happy said, in a tone Apple couldn’t read.
Apple didn’t think Happy sounded very proud. She sounded, Apple thought, kind of jealous. But Apple wasn’t sure if that was it. Not once in their entire friendship had Happy ever had reason to be jealous of Apple.
“Pop quiz,” Mr. Kelly announced.
The class moaned.
“We just had one last week,” complained Hopper loudly.
“And you all did poorly on it—that is, those of you who decided to show up,” Mr. Kelly said to the class.
Apple and Happy and Brooklyn glanced at each other, suppressing a smile.
The quiz was passed back from desk to desk.
Apple took one look at the questions and knew she was going to fail. She hadn’t been keeping up with her schoolwork at all, what with Angst and hanging out with her friends. She had spent all day Saturday at Angst, organizing the shoe closet, and most of Sunday she had spent in bed, trying to catch up on sleep.
She glanced at Happy, who was already hard at work. No matter what was going on in Happy’s life, she always got straight A’s. Brooklyn, however, was spinning her pen in her fingers, not writing anything. Apple felt better knowing she wasn’t going to be the only one who failed.
The clock ticked. Apple tried to concentrate on the quiz, but her mind was stuck on the fact that her photograph was all over town and that people in school were looking at her now as if she were famous.
“Time’s up!” Mr. Kelly said. “Pass the papers forward.”
Apple couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone.
She scribbled across the top of her quiz, “Sorry, Mr. Kelly. I have women’s issues today and couldn’t concentrate. Cramps!” If it worked for Brooklyn, maybe it would work for her. Plus, Mr. Kelly was going to be family. He should be understanding.
Apple didn’t even feel that bad about it. She was excited to get to Angst and see what the reaction was to the first issue. Working at Angst was so much better than this whole school thing. It was certainly more fun than math class, or any of her other classes, for that matter. For the first time, like Brooklyn, she felt she had a higher purpose than school. She was also excited to see Emme.
At the end of the day, as Apple was racing out, Happy wished her luck. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. In fact, you seem like you actually are a person who should be seen on television. You already seem like a new person.”
“Okay, Apple’s up next!” Michael yelled out to no one in particular, though there were many people scurrying around. “Is she almost ready?”
“I’m almost finished with her,” Celia, the makeup artist, called out to Michael. “Dear, your skin is nearly flawless. You’re lucky to be young,” she said, speaking to Apple. Apple wasn’t used to being so pampered. The blush brush felt nice against her skin. “Of course, television does make you see flaws,” Celia added, “but we shall make you beautiful and definitely flawless!”
They were at the Angst TV studio, down the lot from where the Queen of Hearts with Dr. Bee Bee Berg filmed.
Unlike her mother’s show, Angst TV was taped. Everyone, including Apple, was nervous, but at least it wasn’t live, thought Apple. They could do reshoots until they got the interviews perfect.
Already Apple had watched the host interview the writer of a famous series of teen books on vampires, a musician who just had a song land at number one on the charts, and Vicky Barlo, a socialite turned actress who had shown up with her dog and demanded four cans of lemonade, two for her and two for the dog. Apple was too shy to introduce herself to any of the celebrities—not that she could have even if she wanted to. All of them traveled with so many people. It was fascinating to see. Even the vampire writer had six publicists come with her to the taping. It was mayhem, but everyone seemed excited. And at least Apple could tell her friends she sat in the same makeup chair as Vicky Barlo and Chris Jons, the musician, whose songs Happy knew by heart.
“Apple? Apple?!” Apple suddenly heard her name being called out. No. God. No. It couldn’t be, could it? It was. Apple would recognize that voice anywhere. She couldn’t believe it. What was her mother doing here? How had Dr. Berg even gotten in?
“What are you doing here?” Apple hissed at her mother.
“Don’t blink,” said Celia as she applied mascara. “Look toward the ceiling.”
“It’s my daughter’s first time on her own television show, and you think I wasn’t going to be here to witness it?” Dr. Berg said, as if Apple had just asked her what one plus one was.
“First of all, it’s not MY television show. I have a whole one minute to talk about an advice letter. That’s it! One minute,” Apple said, trying to keep her face still as she hissed at her mother.
“Honey, one minute in televisionland is the equivalent to one year in the real world. That’s a whole sixty seconds where everyone out there is focusing only on you,” her mother responded.
“Thanks, Mom. Are you trying to make me more nervous?” Apple asked.
Her mother ignored her and looked at Celia.
“Don’t you think that’s a little too much makeup?” Dr. Berg asked Celia. “She’s only fifteen. We don’t want to make her look older than she is, do we? I think she’s pretty beautiful the way she is.”
Apple couldn’t believe her mother. Not only had she shown up uninvited, but now she was giving out makeup advice to Celia? Did she ever stop giving out advice to anyone about anything?
“Mom! My God. I’ve seen you get ready. You cake the makeup on before your show,” Apple muttered.
“I need to,” her mother said. “I’m not your age. And is that what you’re going to be wearing?”
Why was her mother always so critical? She didn’t like her hair. She didn’t like what she was wearing. How could her mother think she was being supportive at all?
The saleslady who helped her had told her she looked fabulous. Happy thought her outfit, a tight bodysuit with a ballet-type skirt, looked fabulous too. Even Michael had said it was perfect, and she trusted Michael even more than she did Happy when it came to clothes now.
“Yes, it is,” said Apple, shooting the makeup artist a look that she could hopefully read as “Help me!”
Thank God, Celia understood.
“You know, I’m not sure you should be here,” Celia said to Dr. Berg. Apple couldn’t believe it. No one had ever kicked Dr. Bee Bee Berg out of anywhere before. Apple closed her eyes. She didn’t want to witness her mother’s reaction.
“Of course I should. I’m her mother. I’m Dr. Bee Bee Berg! The Queen of Hearts!”
Celia continued to work on Apple’s face.
Yes! thought Apple. She had found the one person who hadn’t heard of her mother. Was it possible? She felt the urge to hug Celia.
“Well, I don’t care whose mother you are. I don’t care right now if you’re the Queen of England. I can’t concentrate with other people crowding me. And I really need to finish Apple’s face. They need her in about two minutes,” Celia said. “You had better just leave.”
“Fine, then,” her mother huffed. “I have my own show to get back to, in case you didn’t know. I guess I’ll just watch you on television with everyone else next week, Apple. But remember, the photo shoot
is also tonight. So try not to be late.”
Right. Angst magazine’s photo shoot featuring Apple’s family. They were going to shoot the Bergs in their home, as a behind-the-scenes look at one of the country’s most-watched television hosts. Apple was dreading it, but at least she’d have her makeup already professionally done.
Apple opened her eyes as she said goodbye to her mother.
She couldn’t help but notice the disappointed and hurt expression on her mother’s face. Her mother had had the same expression on her face when Apple had raced out the door this morning, slamming it in her face. She had accosted her over her bowl of cereal, telling her to always look straight into the camera, be calm, and talk to the camera like she was talking to a good friend. Then she told her that she should wear red. Apple had managed to drown her out. When her mother had asked, “Are you listening to me?” Apple had looked at her sleepily and said, “What?”
But Apple didn’t have time to think about her mother’s hurt feelings now. She had to concentrate on the task at hand. She didn’t want to screw this up. If the reaction she got after people saw her on television was anything like the reaction she had gotten after people saw her on buses and in Angst magazine, well, that was definitely something she didn’t want to screw up.
Before she knew it, Apple was sitting on a stool. Bright lights shone in her face. She still couldn’t help but feel a little bad about her mother being kicked out, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She had to forget that hurt expression on her mother’s face.
“Are you ready?” Michael asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” said Apple, looking at the camera a foot away from her.
“You’re going to be great. Ready? Action,” called out Michael. Apple recited the lines she had practiced in front of her mirror during every spare moment she had the last two days. Michael kept reading the question again and again. “One more time,” he kept saying.
“Okay, we got it,” he finally announced, after Apple had repeated herself seven or eight times. To Apple’s pleasant surprise, everyone clapped, including Emme, who had been allowed to watch, and Fancy Nancy, who had been on set all day, making sure everything ran smoothly for the first taping of Angst TV. Michael walked over to her and took her by the hand, helping her down.
“Good job, kid,” he said, which made Apple laugh. Michael was only in his mid-twenties. He was almost a kid himself.
Apple sighed. But it wasn’t a sigh of relief, exactly. That was amazing, she thought. She felt like she had just ran a marathon, her adrenaline was pumping so quickly. There was something about being in front of the camera this time around that didn’t seem so scary. It felt natural. She had been confident, a feeling Apple so rarely had before today. Maybe she was her mother’s daughter. It didn’t seem so bad. She had never received so many acknowledgments in her life. Being on the side of a bus had already done wonders for her social status. Three girls in the fifth grade had even asked for her autograph this morning, and that was just because she was in Angst magazine. Now, the staff at Angst magazine were clapping for her, like she was a pop star who had just performed a sold-out concert!
Apple accepted warm hugs from Michael, Celia, Morgan, and Emme, and their glowing compliments.
“Are you leaving now?” Emme asked as Apple grabbed her purse.
“Yes, but don’t worry. I’m still going to be working. I have to do a photo shoot with my mom for this magazine. They want to do a behind-the-scenes of the Queen of Hearts,” Apple said, rolling her eyes.
“Well, I have to stay and help them clean up here. Do you want to go out one night this weekend? A few of my friends are getting together and it would be great for you to meet them. They’re fashion girls and so much fun. There’s a big VIP party for a skateboard company.”
“Sure,” said Apple. “That sounds like fun.”
“Okay, I’ll text you the details. See you Saturday at work, and then we’ll party afterward,” Emme said.
“See you,” Apple said, kissing Emme on both cheeks. It was only after Emme double-kissed her back that Apple realized it didn’t feel strange to do that anymore.
“Great job today, Apple,” called out Fancy Nancy. Apple was more than pleased. She felt like skipping, but she never would. Television stars didn’t skip. Still, even Fancy Nancy thought she had done well, and Fancy Nancy was not the type to give out compliments generously.
Lyon was waiting out front for her in his car. She hadn’t spoken to him all day, and when he had offered to pick her up, Apple had readily agreed and texted him the address. She did need a lift, after all, from someone. It might as well be Lyon, her boyfriend, whom she felt she hadn’t seen in forever.
“Hi, baby,” he said as Apple hopped into the passenger seat. He seemed fidgety and nervous.
“Is something wrong?” Apple asked, picking up his vibe immediately.
“Not really,” Lyon said, pulling away.
“Are you sure?” Apple asked.
“Yes, why?” Lyon said, sounding agitated.
“You just seem, I don’t know, nervous or something,” Apple said. “God, you wouldn’t believe how awesome it was to film my television spot. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually think I did an okay job. People clapped when I finished. Can you believe it?”
She waited for Lyon, in his usual way, to say something supportive like, “Of course you did great!”
But it didn’t come. She felt mildly hurt. What was up with him? Here she was, for the first time possibly ever, pleased about something she had done, and Lyon didn’t even seem to be listening to her. He was her boyfriend, after all. Shouldn’t he be happy that she was so happy and excited? She couldn’t help but notice that he was driving extremely slowly, way below the speed limit. And Apple didn’t have time for his slow pace. She needed to get home for the photo shoot.
She didn’t want to be rude. She wanted to know if something was bothering Lyon, but she really was in a rush. Everyone was waiting to do this photo shoot at her house, and Apple needed to be there, like, ten minutes ago.
Looking at her watch, Apple asked again if something was wrong.
“It’s just that …” Lyon started to say, before becoming silent again.
“What? What is it? If you have something to say, just say it,” Apple said, realizing that she was snapping at Lyon. She didn’t want to snap at him, but why was he acting so strange?
He started to drive faster.
“I’m really sorry, Lyon. I didn’t mean to sound like that. I just have so much to do, and it was such a long day, and now I still have to do this photo shoot. I’m sorry if I snapped at you. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out that way,” Apple pleaded. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re busy. I understand,” he said, looking at her forgivingly.
“Thanks. So was there something you wanted to talk about?” Apple asked, praying there wasn’t. “Because it seems like you have something on your mind.”
“No, it’s okay,” said Lyon.
It didn’t take a teen advice columnist or any genius to know that Lyon did have something to say. Apple knew he was probably going to say something along the lines of “I miss you,” or “You didn’t call me back.” She knew she should be reassuring, but her nerves were fraught. She had eaten only a half a sandwich at lunch because she was so nervous, and she could feel hunger pangs, which also made her grumpy. It was no wonder she was snappish. Apple really didn’t feel like being reprimanded by Lyon for her faults as a girlfriend right now. She was already painfully aware of her faults as a girlfriend.
“Should I come in and watch?” Lyon asked as he drove into Apple’s driveway.
“Um,” Apple hesitated, fidgeting her hands. She knew it wouldn’t be a big deal for Lyon to come in. No one would mind. Except Apple, who didn’t want to have to babysit Lyon while also getting photographed. For some reason, the thought of having Lyon around watching her get her photo taken made her nervo
us. She liked being Confident Apple. But she didn’t really want Lyon to see that side of her—she wasn’t sure she would be as confident if he was around.
“That’s okay. I can see you don’t really want me there,” Lyon jumped in before she answered.
“It’s not that,” Apple said, grabbing his hand. “It’s just that it could take a while and I don’t want you to get bored.”
“It’s fine,” said Lyon, disappointed. She knew that he was looking, or waiting, for her to say, “Come in! Come in!”
But Apple knew it would be easier if he didn’t come in. She just wanted to get the shoot over with, have something to eat, and get into bed.
“So, I’ll see you, then?” Lyon said, looking in front of him.
Apple knew he was playing some sort of game. She’d heard and seen this time and time before. She knew that when Lyon said, “So I’ll see you, then” and left it as a question, he wanted her to make the next move and say something like “I’ll see you tomorrow, of course!” or “I’ll call you after.”
But Apple suddenly felt exhausted. She didn’t have time for these sorts of relationship games. Why didn’t Lyon get that? Why couldn’t he see that she was under pressure, and that the last thing she needed right now was for him to add more stress and make her feel bad for not wanting him to watch her photo shoot? This was a big day for her—a life-changing day—and Lyon should be making her life easier, not more difficult.
She wasn’t going to allow him to play games. After all, she was Apple of Apple’s Angst. People had just applauded her!
“Okay, speak later. Thanks for the drive,” Apple said, jumping out of the car.
But she felt awful. She was being a royal bitch and she didn’t understand why. She turned around at the front door, realizing she had made a mistake. She wanted to chase after him and tell him that of course he was welcome to come in and watch. But it was too late. All Apple saw was the back of his car speeding off.
“You’re here. Finally,” her mother said, opening the door. “She’s here! We can get things moving now!” Apple was sure her mother had been waiting by the window for her to arrive.
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