I frown as I realize Cal told me this, and I didn’t clock the trouble with it.
“My face won’t do the job?” I force my smile back into place, and try to walk myself out of the mess I’m in.
“Gotta have a copy for our files since you’re not on Junie’s official pick up list.” She shrugs, still smiling.
“You can’t make an exception? Her dad told you I wascoming.” I know Merry, and odds are, she knows who I really am. Most regulars at Flamingo’s do.
“Sorry, Hon. It’s policy. Gotta keep the kids safe.” The words still hang in the air as she goes back to chasing the kids, oblivious to my predicament.
My ID doesn’t say Fran McVey. It says Frankie Forsythe. The name I’ve gone by in America ever since my days onSurf City High.
But I don’t have another choice, so I walk inside. The dewy-skinned twenty-year old at Miss Merry’s front desk doesn’t look familiar. Even more worrying, her eyes are glued to her mobile, moving up and down in time with her scrolling finger.
I’m wearing my wig and glasses, but all she has to do is read my name on my driver’s license to recognize me. I half-turn to walk back out the door and text Cal that I can’t do it. He knows my situation. I’m sure he’d understand.
Which is exactly why I turn myself back around.
Cal knows mysituation, not my entire story, and he helped me anyway. He rescued me when I needed it, even though it wasn’t convenient. And today, he needs me. He said so himself; I’m his only option.
So, I pull my license from my wallet, roll my shoulders back, and in my most nondescript accent say, “I’m here to pick up Juniper Holloway.”
I slap my license on the desk and slide it to Brianna. Face down. A prayer in my heart.
“Cal said you’d be coming in.” She pops her gum and, without taking her eyes off her mobile, she picks up my license and carries it to a copier.
If Cal were here, he could slap a Xeroxasaurus label on the ancient machine. It requires more effort and time to do its job than Brianna needs to do hers. She doesn’t even unglue hereyes from TikTok when she puts my license on the screen and pushes the start button.
I hold my breath the entire time she has my license. Finally, she hands it back to me and walks to the back door to yell for Junie. She doesn’t look up once when Junie runs to me, shouting “Fwaaaaankie!” or while I help her gather her work from her cubby. Brianna shows as much interest in what’s happening off-screen as a koala does in what’s happening off tree.
“Bye! See ya tomorrow!” Junie shouts.
“Bye, June.” Brianna lifts her hand a few inches then lets it drop.
My stomach slowly untwists as I guide Junie to the exit. Jasmine-scented air slips in as Junie opens the door. I let the smell fill my lungs.
“Oh, hey,” Brianna says, and I glance back at her. “Could I get a pic with you, Frankie?”
I blink. “Sorry?”
Brianna flips her mobile around and points to the TikTok of me at Flamingo’s, that I saw earlier. “This is you, right?”
My eyes drop to the views. They’re exponentially higher than they were a few hours ago.
“Ohhh—”
My mind goes blank, except for one thought: I’ve gone viral. Followed closely by the realization Brianna’s seen my I.D. I can’t tell her I’m not Frankie Forsythe.
“Fwankie, let’s go!” Junie tugs my hand.
“We can do it another day.” Brianna shrugs and taps her thumbs on her screen moving at light speed compared to how she’s been moving since I walked in.
I let Junie pull me out the door without answering Brianna. All I can think about is what she’s typing and who’s going to see it. Probably something about me being inSerenity Cove thateveryonewill see. If the video she was watching didn’t already give away where I’ve been hiding, she will.
Once outside, I run down the block, all but dragging Junie behind me. I’m halfway to Flamingo’s before I come back to my senses.
I could have said no to a picture today, tomorrow, or ever. I could have politely asked Brianna to respect my privacy.
Or I could have gone mental and smashed her mobile; told her to mind her own business; threatened to make her disappear.
