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Chapter One
Daisy
He didn’t come.
I told myself for weeks not to expect him to, but my heart still sank when I came out to give my presentation and saw that empty seat next to my father.
“Good job, honey.” Dad pulls me to his side in a one-armed hug and kisses my hair. “I can’t believe you made all that. I’m so proud of you.”
I smile, even though my chest aches, and I’m desperate to go back to my apartment and cry my eyes out. I can’t stop thinking about it, the words echoing over and over again in my head as I spiral deeper into misery.
He didn’t come.
“Thanks, Dad.” All around us, my classmates of the last four years and their families are talking loudly about the show. Paper crinkles on dozens of flower bouquets, and voices echo off the high, industrial walls of the gallery space. Mothers sniff, fathers praise, friends laugh, and it’s all I can do not look around in the futile hope I’ll seehimmaking his way toward us.
He didn’t come.
I’m not sure why I even thought he might.
Regardless of our history, he’s stillthePenn Adler:a world-famous artist, cultural icon, and multi-millionaire. People love him. There are auctions for his art. He hosts a hit TV show.
Why would he come to my lame college gallery show?
A tiny voice inside me whispers it’s because I was his first fan. I loved his work,loved himbefore the rest of the world caught on. How could he forget that?
Like he knows what’s bothering me, Dad coughs. “Penn wanted to come, but he was in LA, and there was an issue with-“
“Don’t.” I stop him, the pain in my chest tightening even more. “Don’t make excuses for him, Dad. It’s fine. He’s important now. Why would he show up to something like this?”
Dad’s shoulders sag, and he looks so sad that I’m hit with a sick twist of guilt that I couldn’t just pretend not to be bothered. He wasn’t exactly present for most of my childhood, and even when I did go on tour with him, I spent most of my time camped out backstage doing algebra with a tutor.
Penn was the only person to ever truly put me first, but that ended when his face started being plastered on billboards.
“It’s not like that, honey. He’s got a lot on his plate right now. I spoke to him last night; he wanted to be here.” He doesn’t really believe that, and he knows I don’t either, but maybe if we act like it’s true long enough, we’ll both start to believe it.
“I know.” I give him a tight smile. “Come on; I was promised celebratory sushi.”
We go to a place across the street from campus, and the whole restaurant is packed with families of graduates. I talk mindlessly about my pieces and how I’m excited to start my new job. Dad listens patiently, cracking jokes here and there.
We pretend not to notice while people stare at us, whispering behind their hands that Lip Lowell,the Lip Lowell,is here.
“Wait, is Daisy Lowell related to Lip Lowell?”
“Do you think I should just go talk to him? I’ll regret it if I don’t!”
It’s been like this for as long as I can remember.
Once, Penn was an island of normalcy in the chaotic, high-profile waters I was born into. My father is a rockstar with multiple platinum albums under his belt, my uncle is an award-winning actor and Penn…. Penn was supposed to be different.
I took for granted I didn’t have to share him with the world, that he wasmine.
Wrong.
“Excuse me, Lip?” A few brave girls from my English class last semester approach our table, wearing fresh lipstick and shirts tugged low. They ignore me, giggling and smiling at my father. “Could we have a picture? There’s also a graduation party off campus tonight. It’s going to bewild. We’dlove it if you came!”
Dad shoots me an embarrassed, apologetic look and gets up, grinning alongside them like they’re all best friends while they cluster together in front of a smartphone screen.
Fake. Fake. Fake.
