on.
“A reporter asked me about the FCCs, and I told them you should’ve received the award years ago,” I say.
Gigi sucks her teeth. “I wish everyone would just be quiet about this ceremony. You should’ve told them to mind their business.”
I laugh. “I’ll make sure to say that next time.”
I don’t bother telling Gigi that James Jenkins has been trying to get in touch with me. It would only upset her. I’m not sure why she hates him so much or what he did to make her blow up at him on live television. I just know it’s bad, so bad that she still refuses to talk about it eight years later. I don’t even know what he wants, but I have no interest in finding out. My loyalty is to Gigi. James might have been like a grandfather to me the first few years of my life, but I haven’t seen him since they divorced when I was ten. He’s a stranger now.
In the background, I can hear Milo say something to Gigi. She mumbles in response. Then, “Evie Marie, my love, I have to go. It’s time to cook dinner.”
“Cook? You?” I’ve never known Gigi to even boil ramen noodles.
“You can learn new things, even in old age!”
I laugh again. “Okay, Gigi. I’ll talk to you soon. I love you.”
“I love you too.” She sounds distracted for a moment, the sound of Milo’s voice getting louder. But then she’s back. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”
When the line goes dead, I remind myself to ask for more information about this Milo kid the next time I call her. Gigi is smart and a great judge of character, but we all have our lapses. I’d hate it if he were some gold-digging boy looking for a handout. But I’ll think about that tomorrow. Today is meant for celebrating.
Simone is slouching in a deck chair when I finally make it outside. I’ve changed out of my dress and put on a T-shirt and cutoffs. LA is the best city in the world, especially during summer, and we have an awesome view of the ocean from the patio. The perks of living in Malibu. I take a deep whiff of the salty air and plop into the seat next to Simone.
I check my Instagram, and like I guessed, I have thousands of tags and DMs from today’s panel. Everyone loved the outfit and my hair. Lots of people want to know when I’ll be in their cities next or when I’ll start filming Deep Within.
I post a selfie that I took with Paul Christopher right before the panel started, and within five minutes I have over two thousand likes.
All the love is making my heart grow ten sizes. It’s wonderfully overwhelming, like a rush. All these people—strangers—who are invested in me, people who take time out of their day to say the nicest things. Their support makes me feel so worthy of the roles that have come my way.
“I could get used to this,” I say to Simone, showing her the post of Paul Christopher and me. The likes keep ticking up and up.
She smiles a little and looks down at her own phone.
I wait for her inevitable wisecrack about how I always hold the camera too close to my face when I take selfies, but she’s staring off into space, unusually quiet.
“Hey,” I say, waving to get her attention. “Everything okay?”
She pulls her legs up onto the chair and wraps her arms around her knees. “I’m just wondering when all of these great things are going to happen for me too.”
I wince and look down at my toes. Simone and I were in the same play during the senior showcase. After watching in the audience, Paul Christopher asked a handful of us to audition for Deep Within. Simone and I both auditioned for the lead role of Shay, a girl who investigates a classmate’s murder at her ritzy New England boarding school. But Paul Christopher chose me. It was a little weird between us at first, but that went away eventually. I didn’t know she was still upset.
“Your big break is coming,” I say. “I just know it. You’re way too talented.”
And I mean that wholeheartedly. Simone was one of the best actresses in our senior class. Hell, even at all of McKibben.
“Sometimes I just feel like you get everything so easily,” she says, still not looking at me.
Her words are like a punch to the gut. That’s what everyone