I almost spit berry smoothie onto her dashboard. “God, Em. I feel so cheap.”
“Yeah, well, I’m just glad we didn’t have to resort to breaking you guys up.” She parked the Sentra and yanked up the brake.
“You mean you and Derek would have—”
“How many times in this conversation must I say hells yeah? Wouldn’t have been that hard, either. You weren’t all that attached to him, thankfully. You’d just better hope we like this Graham guy.”
I leveled a look at her. “No. Graham is off-limits. I don’t care if the two of you hate him.”
She smiled and pinched my arm. “Now that’s more like it.”
When I come back to earth, I’m still at Marcus’s prom, being pointedly ignored by every person here. Then my focus lands on the other side of the huge indoor/outdoor space. One of the photographers snapping shots of prom-goers appears to be aiming his camera in my direction exclusively. I think paparazzi? before giving myself a mental shake, feeling silly.
Still, I glance around surreptitiously, looking for the other photographers, who are progressing through the crowd, setting up shots of small knots of people talking and laughing, snapping candid shots of couples dancing and teachers chaperoning. Sliding my eyes back to the first photographer, I notice two things. One, his camera is badass in comparison to what the other two are utilizing. And two, he’s still aiming every single shot in my direction.
I have an uneasy feeling about this.
***
Emily spent ten minutes scolding me about my recent dumbass decisions: first, trying to placate Marcus by going to his prom, and second, breaking my own rule about checking gossip sites. She’s right, of course. I can’t unsee the photos of me—alternating between miserable and pissed—standing beside Marcus, being snubbed by everyone at that dance. I can’t unread the stories claiming that it was my choice to isolate myself, or the bonus rumors that I’m cheating on Reid Alexander.
My best friend stomps back and forth across my room while Derek and I look on silently. Finally, she stops and glares at the laptop screen. “What a bunch of jealous pricks!” Emily will never be accused of beating around the bush.
“Marcus’s friends or the gossip sites?” I’m not sure which infuriates her more.
“All of them.” She’s so angry she’s growling.
“Calm down, baby,” Derek says, tugging on her hand as she paces by him.
“I will not calm down!” Stopping suddenly, she slides onto his lap. “Derek, please do me a favor.” She nuzzles the side of his closely-shorn blond head and his eyes close.
“Anything.”
“Please beat the shit out of Marcus.”
“Except that.”
Sitting straight up, she folds her arms over her chest and glares at him. “What the hell good is having a muscly boyfriend if he won’t beat people up for you?”
I’m glad the text from Reid comes after they’ve gone.
Reid: You went to prom with some other guy? I’m hurt.
Me: Very funny
Reid: Our little act is a success. I’ve already been contacted for comment.
Me: Crap
Reid: It would help if we go out to dinner and look happy
Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea
Reid: Sure it is. One happy outing in the face of those stories will put an end to them.
Me: You know I’m 400 miles from los angeles, right?
Reid: I’m visiting a friend in san fran tomorrow. Drive in, stay over. We’ll go somewhere cool.
Me: I’m not meeting you in san francisco, reid
Reid: Fine, i’ll come to you
***
Graham is as supportive as Emily, though far less violence-craving.
“I should have just backed out of prom,” I sigh into my webcam, scrubbing my hands over my face. “Marcus wasn’t going to be happy no matter what I did, and now the whole world thinks I’m a stuck-up bitch who wouldn’t lower herself to speak to regular folks.”
“I’m sure no one believes a word of that.” His voice is so warm and soothing that I almost believe him.
“People do believe it! And you know the most annoying part? Before now, I was a middle-class nonentity to most of the people from his school. Marcus and I have run into classmates of his several times, and every time I felt exactly like I do when Chloe eyeballs whatever I’m wearing and gears up to mock my entire sense of fashion—or lack of it.”
He smiles reassuringly. “I happen to like your fashion sense.”
I barely hear him. “And what about the rumors that I’m cheating on Reid with Marcus? I’m not dating Reid, but the studio wants everyone to think I am… so of course I’m a cheater if I go out with anyone else. What will that mean when you’re here? We’ll have to sneak around. If we’re caught, I’ll look like the biggest slut in Hollywood.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “Emma, love, you’ve got a long way to go to win that crown.”
I smile goofily at my screen. “You called me love.”
He smirks, chin tucked low, staring at his screen through his lashes. “You okay with that?”
“Yeah.” I stare into his beautiful warm eyes and wish for the hundredth time in two days that he was standing in front of me. “Are you okay with me meeting Reid for dinner?”
He nods and says, “As okay as I can be.” Which seems cryptic, but I don’t push him. I can’t expect him to be thrilled about it.