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I rolled my eyes.
“I feel like a pageant queen,” I admitted. “I don’t think my hair’s ever been this big.”
Georgia waved her hand through the air. Of course her hair and makeup were perfect. “It’s not pageant hair unless you use an entire can of hairspray. I came to make sure you’re ready. It’s almost show time.”
I took a deep breath. Let it out. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. When I picked Sierra up at the winter sports center this morning and told her about being on the show, she’d been beside herself with excitement that her mother was picking a random cowboy on live television. She didn’t see it as insane. She saw it as cool.
“Here,” Mallory said, pushing her phone into Georgia’s hand. “Tell me what you see.”
Georgia frowned and scrolled through the photos. “Oh my.” Then more scrolling. “Look at you dance! Good lord above, you’re amazing!”
“See!” Mallory said, throwing up her arms.
“See what?” I yelled. “I walked away from dance!”
“You can’t keep something this amazing a secret!” Mallory snapped back. “Everything about you is a secret. You need to let people in.”
I shook my head, the curls bouncing. “People hurt me, Mallory. All people do is take, take, take.”
“Not everyone.”
Georgia was staring at us, wide eyed. She’d never heard us argue before.
“Did Luke really take from you?” Mallory asked.
“Yes!”
“Really? Because what I see here”–she pointed at her phone Georgia still held–“is a guy who’s all in with a girl.”
“Who wanted me for access to my mother.”
Mallory waved her hand. “Please. Your mother isn’t that special. She’s a senator, not Steven Spielberg!”
“Your mother’s a senator?” Georgia asked.
I nodded but kept my eyes on Mallory. “What do you want me to do, let Luke in and let him destroy me? I’ve had that happen and I really don’t like the feeling.”
“Not everyone is like your parents.”
“Everyone wants me for something, Mallory.”
She shook her head. “Not me.”
“Not me,” Georgia added.
“Not Bridget. Or Lindy. Or Melly. Or Eve. Or any of the guys. Not Mrs. Waddle.”
“But–”
“No buts,” she snapped. “Georgia and I both saw Luke at the pizza place that night. He was into you for you.”
“Oh yeah,” Georgia added with her southern twang.
“You kept him at arm’s distance. Refused to be anything but fake with him. Besides all the orgasms.”
“It wasn’t real! Besides the orgasms,” I muttered the last.
Mallory barked out a laugh. “Liar! You wouldn’t be so upset if it was fake. Your feelings are real. They are valid. It’s okay to fall in love with someone. It’s okay to be reckless and wild with your emotions.”
