He straightens up and walks away.

“Okay, bye, then,” I call after

him, but probably not loud enough for him to hear. Is he mad at
me? What’s his problem lately?

Actors.

“What am I apologizing for?”

I turn to look at Bran, and he hops out of the way of the hose I
accidentally aim at him. He’s too slow with his cast on, and gets
hit with an icy blast right in the crotch. Ha. Totally an accident,
though. He shouldn’t try to talk to me while I’m holding a hose.

Bran looks down at his wet shorts in dismay. He shakes his head
and laughs it off. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you
guys today, but Megan came home really upset about something.
She’s talking about having you replaced as her maid of honor.”

“Really?” I say brightly. I resume watering the flowers with a

song in my heart.

“Come on, Andi.” Bran dares to take the hose from me so I’ll look
at him. “You know she can’t get stressed out, especially with
everything that’s going on. It’s not good for the baby. So, please,
whatever happened—could you fix it?”

He looks especially boyish with his messy hair in his eyes and
that pleading expression on his face. I don’t know why, but it still
affects some part of me. I remember when we were kids, and Bran
would have that same look on his face when he’d try to talk me
down from doing something stupid. Andi, please stop kicking that
guy. Andi, put the chicken down. For me.

So I guess he’s saved my ass a few times over the years. It

wouldn’t kill me to return the favor, right? Well, it might kill him.

I leave Bran to finish watering the garden so I can find Megan

and beg her to please, please let me a part of her nuptial. I practice
sincere smiles along the way, flashing one at Connie—whom I
pass in the kitchen—to gauge its reception. Connie asks if I’m
okay.

Megan, Aunt Susan, and a bunch of girls I don’t know are in the
living room stuffing candy and glitter into little boxes with
Megan’s and Bran’s names engraved on them. If Aunt Susan was
her old self, this would be an assembly line of efficiency. But she’s
not, so it’s not. The girls are sitting sprawled around the coffee
table, giggling and having fun rather than getting much done. I
realize I do know three of the five other girls, besides Megan.
They’re her cousins from Aunt Susan’s side—Amy, Kori, and
Brianna? All three of them have grown out of that gawky awkward
stage, and two of them have discovered makeup in a big way.

They squeal excitedly and jump up to give me hugs when they

see me standing there. It’s not that I’m their favorite person;
they’re just the friendly exuberant type. Like puppies. Aunt
Susan’s whole side is like that—a family full of natural
cheerleaders. When I’m with them, I feel like the ethnic
thundercloud in a sky full of rainbows. It’s not that I don’t like
that feeling—because I actually do. What I don’t care for is how
tactile the whole Herrington family is. And they all naturally smell
like strawberries. Isn’t that weird?
 I sit down next to Megan, and she stiffly introduces me to the
two other girls there—Mary and Rian—who are both from the
church. They smile and say hi, but don’t stop assembling boxes. I
look at the small pile of completed wedding favors—then at the
much bigger pile of unconstructed ones. With barely a sigh, I dive
in.

It takes me a while to work up the fortitude to apologize to

Megan. I don’t like saying sorry when I don’t mean it, and I never
mean it. I especially don’t mean it right now but I force myself to
say it, anyway.

“I’m sorry for what I said this morning,” I begin, keeping my

glare glued to the box I’m putting together. “I didn’t mean it.
Please, please let me be in the wedding.”

Megan’s hands falter. “Bran talked to you, didn’t he?” she says
suspiciously.

“Um. No.”

“Whatever, Andi. It’s fine.”

I watch as she pokes her tongue against the inside of her mouth,
the way she does when she’s trying to act like nothing’s bothering
her. She steals a quick glance at her mother, who is chatting with
Kori at the moment. She says in a low tone of voice to me, “I mean
—I deserve what you said, right? I shouldn’t have…” She trails off,
shaking her head. “Can we just not do this now? Can we just
pretend that we’re, like, besties for life until the after the
wedding? Then you can go back to hating me.”

Damn it. Why does everyone think I can act that well? But
because Aunt Susan is watching us with a happy smile on her face,
I laugh like Megan said something funny. “Fine by me,” I say in a
possessed tone of voice.

Thus, our temporary truce is reestablished, and all is right in the

world. I burn through the party favors like a boss—until we
discover that I accidentally stuck Mary’s tube of rash cream in one
of the boxes. I suggest leaving it in as a surprise to an
unsuspecting wedding guest—but I am overwhelmingly outvoted,
and we have to go through all the boxes to find the tube. What was
your rash cream doing on the table with all the candy, Mary?
Yuck.

I’m happy to escape and run a few miscellaneous errands for

Megan. I drive around town picking glitter out of my hair and
nails, and checking my phone for any texts. I have a few from Nate
about his newest target, a Brazilian supermodel—but none from
Luke. He would have landed by now. It’s not like he keeps me
updated on his every movement, but it would be nice to know that
he arrived safely. Whatever, though.

I have dinner with Ellen at this restaurant called Iggy’s. The food
is good but greasy. I go through half a tree’s worth of napkins
wiping my mouth and fingers while fielding calls from Talon
about the camping trip. It’s driving me a wee bit crazy. When
Talon starts rambling about the contents of his tackle box, I hand
my phone over to Ellen, and start stuffing my face with fries. I’m
so glad Luke gave me the keys to the gym before he left. I’m going
there tonight. I have a lot of aggression to work off.

The next day, Megan finds herself plastered across the internet,
known as “LG’s Mystery Blonde,” whom is rumored to be carrying
the spawn of the hottest actor in Hollywood. She’s both flattered
and horrified. Horrified because she made the mistake of reading
the comments section. I read them with her, and it amazes me
how so many people can spell so many words wrong, but spell
“whore” correctly every time.

Fortunately, none of the pictures online have a clear shot of her

face. Either her hair is in the way, or she’s blurry and turning
away from the camera. There are several shots where Luke is
purposefully shielding her with his body. Isn’t that nice? Oh, look
—there’s me. Well, I’m pretty sure that’s my ear.

I call Nate to find out what the official word is on the pregnant
Mystery Blonde. He tells me that Jessica and her crew are going to
ignore it, but that he’s refuting the rumors on his own social
media accounts, at Luke’s request. I’m guessing that’s for Megan’s
benefit, in hopes that the press will drop the story. Nate also tells
me that he thinks my cousin is hot, and that’s when I hang up on
him.

I discover late Friday night why Luke hasn’t been in touch: he’s
been busy becoming the number one trending topic in the
country. I skim over stories about Luke’s wild L.A. nights of
fighting, street racing, and co-star hook-ups. Thankfully, there's
no mention of anyone being sent to the hospital, or jail.

I click on the first link. It says that Luke allegedly got into a
scuffle at a celeb party with fellow heartthrob and car enthusiast,
twenty-two year old singer Jackson Frazier—and his entourage—
over…hmm, the affections of Luke’s My Soul for You co-star, Kat
Vandevere. Luke was pulled off Frazier before he could stomp the
tiny pop star’s face into the ground (I’m paraphrasing here), and
Frazier was able to limp away from the encounter. No charges
were filed, thank god. Why would Luke pick a fight with such a
little guy, anyway? No pictures of the altercation, so I don’t know
if I believe it.

He was a busy boy, I see. When he wasn’t throwing punches, he

was street racing in San Pedro. Allegedly, that is. Sources claim
Luke was there but managed to peel out before the cops came.
That one I believe, though there weren’t any pictures
accompanying the article.

The third item is the most interesting. Various sites claim that
Luke hooked up with his onscreen love interest, Kat Vandevere—
aka Alexa in the My Soul For You series. She is the only girl alive
that Luke’s fandom wouldn’t mind him being with. I’ve met Kat a
few times, and she’s one of those girls that you have to pretend to
like because she’s so beautiful and cool—but secretly you burn
with jealousy, and hope the world soon discovers some fatal flaw
of hers. She’s a pretty good actress. Maybe not of the same caliber
as Luke, but definitely an up-and-comer.

I have some insider knowledge on their relationship. During the

filming of the first Soul movie, Luke pursued her pretty hard—but
Kat wanted to be more than just a fuckbuddy, so she refused his
advances. Somewhere along the line, they ended up good friends.
They actually get along really well, and have great chemistry. I
asked Luke once if he secretly loved her, and he totally brushed
the question off. I know she’s been busy doing some voice work,
but according to the pictures I’m looking at, she apparently found
time to hang out with Luke. There aren’t any pictures of them
kissing, or anything. Just dozens of shots of them leaving the
same restaurant together, or standing around and talking outside
of a bar. There’s a picture of a smiling Luke with his arm around a
laughing Kat, and right next to it is a picture of Luke and his
Mystery Blonde. Half of Megan’s face is covered by her hair, but
the part you can see looks constipated. Ha, ha. According to the
gossip blog that posted the side-by-side, LG broke poor KVan’s
heart by getting the beautiful blonde girl he’s cheating on her with
pregnant.

Oh, the scandal. But it’s good publicity for everyone involved—
except for maybe for Megan. Then again, I bet she’s secretly
thrilled. She wishes she were really carrying Luke’s love child!
Because how hilarious would that be if she slept with another one
of my boyfriend’s, right?

My fake boyfriend. Luke’s not my boyfriend. I’m going to sleep

now. I have to pick up my fake boyfriend in six hours. He might be
mad at me…and I get to go camping with him and two nine year
old boys this weekend.

Should be fun, I’m thinking.

Chapter 12

Like a good employee, I pull up to the curb just as Luke comes

out the doors of the airport. He seems to be back to his old self,
and we’re both willing to ignore any lingering tension. I ask him
what happened with Frazier, and he mutters something about the
kid being a douche to Kat. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about it
so we discuss his dinner meeting with Mark Silverstein instead.
Luke says it went good and he’s probably going to do the movie.
He sounds pretty excited at the prospect of working with the
director, who has several blockbuster action movies under his
belt. I wonder how he’ll do with a horror. It’s kind of a risky genre,
if you ask me.

Talon texts me about every five minutes, wanting to know when

we’re coming over, until finally I scream “Never!” and try to throw
my phone out the closed window. Luke laughs at me, and I almost
throw him out the window.

We stop at Ellen’s so he can shower and grab his stuff, and then
we jump into his truck to pick up the boys. On the way there, I
check the weather forecast on my phone because with Oregon you
never know what you’re going to get from one day to the next. It
claims that it will be sunny with a high in the eighties, all
weekend. Awesome. I like the rain, just not when I’m sleeping
outdoors.

The boys greet us like big eager puppies on a sugar high. Dalton
is Talon’s brother from another mother, with dark skin and eyes.
He thinks I’m the shit since that time I showed them how to build
a potato gun—which we promptly tested out on the neighborhood
bullies. It was a smashing success, if I do say so myself, though no
one was seriously injured.

Like Talon, Dalton isn’t the least bit impressed that Luke is a
world famous actor. They help Luke load the truck up with the
camping gear. Uncle Charlie was nice enough to get everything
out the night before so we didn’t have to waste time digging
around in the messy garage. He even insisted on buying all the
food and supplies for our trip. I go in the kitchen to grab the bags
of stuff. Wow, he really went all out; I have to make a couple of
trips to get everything.

I stop to talk to Aunt Susan before I leave, and swear to her that
I’ll keep a close eye on the boys, and make sure that they shower
and brush their teeth before they go to sleep. Why this is so
important to her, I don’t know. I wouldn’t care if they ran around
naked, so long as they didn’t do it in front of me. Or anyone else,
for that matter. It’s probably for the best that they keep all their
clothes on. I know I’m going to.

You know who else should keep all her clothes on? Megan. I go
back outside to discover her perched on the truck’s tailgate,
swinging her endlessly long and tanned legs as she chats with
Luke. She’s wearing little white shorts and a hot pink bikini top.
You can totally see her perky nipples through the thin fabric.

Luke, to his credit, isn’t ogling her. But then girls are constantly
lifting up their shirts for him, so maybe he’s just not that
impressed. If he’s ignoring Megan’s nipples, so can I. I mumble a
greeting to her, and start putting the perishables in the cooler
sitting in the driveway.

“I wish I could go with you guys,” Megan says wistfully. “I

haven’t been camping in forever.”
 “So come,” Luke invites her in that persuasive voice of his.
“There’s plenty of room. Right, Andi?”

I look up with a smile in which you can count all my teeth.

“Absolutely.”

Fortunately, Megan is shaking her head. “Thanks, but we have

too much to do here. And with Bran in a cast, it would be
impractical. I would like to one day, though, before the baby’s
born.”

“Yeah, the four of us will have to go sometime,” Luke says,

leaning against the back of the truck, next to where I’m standing.
“There are some gorgeous spots in Joshua Tree that I think you’d
like.”

I snort discreetly. So he thinks he knows her well enough to

know her camping preferences now? Ha! And of course he had to
mention Joshua Tree—when he knows how I feel about that place
after the spider incident.

Both Megan and her nipples seem excited about this prospect.
But before she can respond, Talon comes skidding to a stop in
front of her. “Nipples!” he shrieks, pointing at her chest with both
index fingers. He cackles and runs back into the open garage.

Megan looks down at herself, and her cheeks turn bright pink.
With a little squeak, she scrambles off the tailgate and makes a
run for the house. Luke watches her go then turns to me with a
grin.
 “Enjoy the show?” I say with a wry look. I go back to arranging
the packets of hotdogs so they’re covered in ice.

“What, the nipples?” He shrugs. “I’ve seen them before. Not hers,
specifically—you know what I mean.”

“Right.” I smirk at him.

Luke smiles, but his gaze is uncomfortably intense. “You know

what I’ve never seen on another girl before? A pair of eyes, as dark
and shiny as yours.”

I roll my dark shiny eyes at him. “Real smooth, super star. You’re
lucky you’re famous.”

Luke laughs that deep throaty chuckle that reaches and down
tickles me in all my girl parts. Clearing my throat, I turn my back
to him to hide my flustered face. I go to pick up the cooler so I can
put it in the back of the truck—but then I feel Luke’s hands close
around my waist. He picks me up and moves me to the side like
I’m a toddler in the way. I huff at him but he ignores me, the
muscles in his arms barely having to flex as he hauls the cooler up.
I could have done it. It wouldn’t have been pretty, but I would
have managed just fine.

Megan comes back out just as we’re finished loading the truck.
She’s wearing her green and yellow Oregon Ducks shirt and a
sheepish expression. “Can I talk to you for a second?” she asks
reluctantly.

I follow her to the side of the house where she immediately

begins spewing apologies at me.

“Oh, my god—I swear I wasn’t trying to flirt with him! I just came
back from Bran’s cousin’s house, and Lucas was right there. I
wouldn’t—”

“Calm your nipples down, Meegles,” I interrupt, using an old

nickname for her. “It’s fine.”

Megan immediately crosses her arms over her chest, appearing

mortified. “Okay, whatever. Um, just to let you know—he didn’t
even look at me like that once. That’s why I didn’t know that my…
you know.”

“I know.” I shrug slightly to show her that I don’t think it’s a big
deal.

“So…” She stares down at the ground, playing with the hem of
her shirt. “Thanks for taking the boys camping. I felt so bad for
Talon when we told him that we had to cancel the trip. We
planned it, like, months ago, and he was really disappointed. So,
um…yeah…”

“Yeah—no.” I wave my hand around. “No big deal. I like

camping.”

We are so awkward. I feel like we should be scuffing our toes in

the dirt while trying to work up the courage to ask the other one to
the freshman dance. Someone has to put a stop to this because it’s
just painful.
 “Well, they’re probably waiting for me,” I say, abruptly turning
away.

“Yeah, okay. Have fun camping!”

“You, too,” I automatically reply.

It doesn’t make sense, but I’m not going to take it back. I escape
to the truck where Talon and Dalton are yelling at me to hurry
from the backseat of the cab. I think they’re having a contest to
see who can be the loudest.

“It’s not too late to back out,” I say to Luke while putting on my
seatbelt.

“Are you kidding?” He starts the truck and grins over at me.
“We’re gonna have a blast.”

Talon suddenly sticks his wet finger in my ear, giggling like a

madman.

Yeah, this is gonna be a real good time.

I know it doesn’t sound like it, but I actually am looking forward

to this. It’s a forty-five minute drive to the campgrounds, and I
spend the majority of it teaching the boys the most obnoxious
songs I can remember from my glorious prepubescent days.
Weirdly, Luke doesn’t recognize any of them. He’s having his own
fun, though. Dalton’s dog is curled up in his lap, and refuses to
move. Devo is a fat black pug that looks like a cushion with feet. I
like most dogs—but not pugs. It’s those eyes, I think, that freak
me out so bad. I think of pugs as humans who have been cursed
into dog form. They always seem so depressed to me, and why are
they always sighing? When Devo looks at me with his moist
human eyes, I feel like he’s pleading with me to turn him back to
his original bipedal form. Thank goodness he chose Luke’s lap
‘cause I probably would have thrown him out a window if he had
climbed onto mine.