“Dude, are you serious?” I say, and his face goes scarlet.
“My manager, heh-heh,” he subtly inclines his head towards the back. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Alexander.”
“It’s okay,” Emma says, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll just have water.” The breath wooshes out of the poor guy and he looks back at me.
I shrug. “Yeah, me, too.” Chad rushes off and I shake my head. “I guess I’m not in LA anymore, Toto.”
Emma laughs. “No, definitely not.”
“So I heard through the grapevine that you were in New York recently, visiting colleges. Chosen one yet?” I’m curious about whether or not she’ll ask which grapevine I got that from. What might she think to know it was Graham-to-Brooke-to-me?
She doesn’t take the bait. Either she doesn’t see it, or she’s too smart to pick it up. “I’m leaning towards NYU.”
“Tisch.” I nod. “Cool.”
“You know it?”
I laughed. “You don’t have to sound so surprised. I was up to my eyeballs with paying work by the time I got close to finishing my high school coursework. College was never really on my radar. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know all the major theatre programs. You know, just in case.”
She tilts her head. “In case what?”
That’s right, Emma. Follow the crumbs. “In case I decide to take my career in a more serious direction at some point.”
A crease appears on her forehead and my finger itches to smooth it out. “But I thought you said something about wanting the crazy famous and ton of money route?”
Wow. She remembers what I said months ago. Suddenly I’m recalling why I found her so unusual. She’s outwardly focused, in a way few people in this business are. Including me. I smile. “Maybe the critical acclaim is more important to me than I let on.” Total lie, of course.
“Huh,” she says, and then for some reason she blushes.
Chapter 8
Graham
Me: Touching down now. I’d call but i’m afraid of the flight attendant.
Emma: Lol why?
Me: She has a mustache. And sideburns. And perpetual anger.
Emma: Be careful…
Me: I’m taking my life in my hands to text that i’m only a few hundred miles from you
Emma: Wish I was there now
Me: I want to see you so bad it hurts
The second I hit send, I’m rethinking—too late—that last text. Because how desperate can I seem? It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way. No. I’ve never felt this way. I was lovesick over Zoe, but I didn’t rearrange my life in my head to make room for her everywhere. In a matter of what—less than two weeks?—Emma has gone from the girl who got away to the girl I see in every moment of my future. I’m starting to enter panic mode and second-think everything when my phone plays its text tone.
Emma: Me too
And just like that—relief. Muscle-flooding, breath-releasing, mind-calming relief. Laughing to myself, I stare out at LA as we taxi up to the terminal. I was sixteen the last time I felt so jerked around by my own desires. I’m out of practice.
I won’t see Emma until tomorrow, when she checks into the hotel in LA, and I’m already craving the sight of her like I used to crave the feel of a cigarette between my fingers, between my lips, inhaling, exhaling, the nicotine flooding my system and making everything right with the world, thirty seconds in.
I definitely shouldn’t tell her that thinking of her makes me wish for a cigarette to take the edge off, for the first time in months. Not that I’m sure it would even work.
Me: Heads up, seeing you will not be enough.
Emma: Consider me warned and ready
Emma: OMG *blushing*
Me: :)
***
My next text is to Cassie, to let her know I’ve landed, to ask how Cara’s doing. Most of the time she’s fine when dropped at her aunt’s, but sometimes not. My sister reports that currently, Cara is dancing in front of Caleb’s battery-powered swing and eating Cheerios from a cup.
My family has been supportive from day one as far as Cara goes, day one being the day I brought her home. Before that, they were divided—Mom and Brynn on one side and Dad and Cassie on the other. Mom and Brynn were not in favor of me taking custody of Cara. We’d had a family meeting to make the decision, and even though my sisters were both in college and no longer lived at home, they were both given a vote. Mom was tight-lipped, but Brynn was livid.
“Why would you do this to yourself?” Her hand smacked the pine-planked kitchen table where we all sat, me at the head like the accused. “She told you she’s absolutely not keeping it, thank God, so you’re off the hook for eighteen years of child support. Let her take care of it in whatever way she sees fit and go live your life! You’re sixteen for f**k’s sake!”
No one said anything. I don’t think Dad and Cassie disagreed with her. They just thought I should be given the choice, and I’d made it.
I stared at my hands, splayed on the table. They weren’t as big as my dad’s yet. They weren’t the hands of a man. They were the hands of a boy. I knew in that moment that I could reclaim my adolescence and walk away from this with my family’s full support.
My voice was low, but sure. “It’s my baby. I can’t just let her give it away—”
“Graham, honey, we can all appreciate your sense of responsibility.” Mom’s placating tone annoyed me even more than Brynn’s anger had. “But Zoe is accountable for not protecting herself, too—”