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Homecoming with T was almost perfect. We danced all night. He asked me to be his girlfriend! Then as he was leaning in to kiss me goodnight, Mom opened the door. T had to notice her blotchy face and swollen eyes, but he acted like he didn’t. What am I going to say to him Monday? I only talk to you about the stuff going on with my parents. This is the third time in two weeks Dad hasn’t come home. I wish I could move in with Allie. But then I’d have to tell her.
~ from the diary of Elizabeth Sara Thorne (age16)
The celebrity who owns an audience with zero effort, the carefree player who slides into any role, opposite anyone, the guy who has confidence hardwired into his brain got fired?
I need the money.That unexpected confession and the anxiety shadowing his eyes make Hollywood Gabe seem all human.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. “You’ll find something else though, right?” Someone like Gabe has to have other offers.
“Not after...” Something vulnerable hits and leaves his eyes. “Never mind. I need to get out of the hotel for a while.”
Where he thinks he can go to escape himself, I don’t know, but I get it. When my walls close in, everything but me shrinksAlice-in-Wonderlandsmall. I pivot toward the elevator.
“Jess?” The roughness in his voice stops me. “Come with me?” He holds up a set of car keys.
I should say no. I’m not reckless. I’ve never been impulsive. I’ve also never been kissed. Never made it into the tabloids. Never sat in a guy’s lap. Never felt so mixed-up and unsure. Nothing’s been the same since Gabriel Wade hacked my life. “I have to meet Vi at the keynote lunch.”
“I’m only planning on driving to my house in Highland Park.” His mouth twitches in in a quarter smile that sweetens the request.
“You live in Highland Park?” How close has he been to me all this time? A few neighborhoods over?
“When the show’s on break.” He spins his keys around his finger, and they clink together.
“Why are you staying at the hotel?”
His quarter smile crashes. “It’s complicated.”
I take that as code fordrop it, so I do. “I live out there too. With my dad.”
“What about your mom?”
I don’t want to lie. I also don’t want to delve into the dysfunction that’s my family, even if it feels like he might get it. “She’s... gone.”
“Same.” The word backs up in his throat. Which is weird since he told Gretchen his mom was on vacation. “Are you in, Escalator Girl?” He rattles his keys in front of me. “I’ll buy breakfast.”
I glance at the cats partying it up on my pants.
“Drive-thru. You know you want to.” His tone lifts in a tease.
A few yards behind him, there’s a sign for a restroom. “Give me a second?” I push through the door markedWomen.
I check for shoes under the stalls. When I don’t find any, I brace myself on the counter. “Are you seriously going to leave the hotel with a stranger?” I scold myself in the mirror, channeling my inner mom.
Only Gabe doesn’t feel like a stranger. And I don’t have a mom. Not one I’m allowed to see.
I try again. “You don’t even have your phone. What would Dad say?” The laugh that dies in my throat is about as ridiculous as him taking the time to give me a stranger-danger lecture. And that settles it. I’m taking my chances with Gabe.
But first I need to fix the mess that is me. Freeing my waves from the bun that’s barely hanging on, I finger fluff the roots until I look slightly less insane-asylum. There’s a bottle of coconut lime hand sanitizer on the counter. I pump some in my hands and smear the gel under both arm pits.
When I finish mySurvivormakeover, Gabe’s exactly where I left him. Tucking a wayward wave behind my ear, he slides his hand through my hair, all the way to the ends and gives a gentle tug. “I like.”
I mentally kick the butterflies lining up to somersault across my stomach for him.
Tipping his head, he inhales. “Why do you smell like a like a piña colada collided with a margarita?”
I try to keep a straight face while I shrug.
“Ready?” He offers his palm, like it’s natural we would hold hands.
