Chapter 9 #2
He laughs, but the air between us still feels charged, the ghost of last night’s kiss lingering between us like a live wire. I let my gaze linger on his face for a minute, getting lost in the smattering of freckles dusting his cheeks, the flecks of gray in his blue eyes.
“Nikki Bennet?”
Immediately I feel myself blushing as I whip my head around. It’s a girl I don’t recognize, about twelve or thirteen years old, wearing a denim skirt and red tank. Her cell phone is clutched in her hand, and I can’t tell if she’s already recording.
Shit shit shit. It takes me a split second to recalibrate from the moment with Nate to my panic—did anyone see us?—to what my mother lovingly calls “on mode.”
But once I’m on, I’m so on.
“Hey!” I say, like we’re old friends. I pop up and stick my hand out. “Happy Fourth! What’s your name?”
“I’m Kelly. That’s my mom.” She nods back to a woman standing behind her. “Oh my gosh, I’m like, obsessed with LovedBy. Your season was the best.”
“Oh, that is so sweet,” I tell her. Genuinely, every time a fan tells me they loved watching me, it feels good. I know how big an honor it is to have appeared on-screen in so many people’s living rooms every week for two months of their life.
“We’re here visiting my aunt and uncle,” the girl goes on, “and I thought I saw you across the way, and then I totally remembered you’re from here—I mean, duh, Nikki B., the Georgia Peach!—but anyway, would it be cool to get a selfie?”
“Oh, um…” I look over at Linney and the kids, who have returned from their bathroom trip.
Fans asking for selfies is always so tough—at a promotional event, when I’m fully in hair and makeup and on my A-game, I love it.
But in the flow of regular life it can feel so jarring—what if they accidentally get my family in the shot?
What if I’ve simply got broccoli in my teeth?
But saying no can be a worse liability—I’ve seen friends from the LovedBy universe fully canceled over claims they were rude to fans.
And I’d never want anyone to think negatively about me.
It’s not who I am. I look to Kelly’s mom, apologetically, “I’m actually here with family, so—”
“Just a quick one?” the mom asks, tilting her head.
I pause, taken aback. I don’t blame the daughter for being excited, but I kind of thought a grown adult would appreciate where I’m coming from.
Still, Kelly looks so hopeful. She reminds me of myself at her age—halfway between gangly and graceful, fidgeting with the stud in her earlobe, which looks recently pierced.
If I’d run into one of my celebrity idols at that age, I would have been crushed if they’d turned me down.
I swallow down a sigh and force my smile one notch brighter.
“Sure. No problem. Let’s go over here though.
” I walk her out of the fray of people packing up now that the parade is ending, so no one else is caught in the background of our shot.
On the way, I take a quick glance down at my outfit to make sure there are no embarrassing spills or bra straps peeking out.
We snap a picture, and the girl disappears back into the crowd. I take a deep breath, letting my posture relax as I return to my group.
Nate lets out a low whistle. “Wow.” He’s standing with his arms folded, his head tilted.
“What?”
“That was… something else.”
“What was?” I ask.
“The way you totally snapped into—I don’t know… It was like watching a great character performance.”
“Mm-hmm,” Linney says, walking up behind Nate. “Come on,” she adds, “I see Dad.”
We follow Linney and the kids over to where my dad is cornered near the water station by none other than Patsy Musgrove—head of Musgrove Real Estate, and mother of my middle school best friend, Mary Moore Musgrove.
I let out a quiet sigh. Sometimes being home is so cozy; other times, it feels like moving from one stage to another, without any rehearsal for the upcoming “scene.” Nate wasn’t far off when he called it performance.
It’s still me, of course. Just with all the pressure that comes along with playing a part.
We arrive in time for me to overhear Patsy ask, “Bill, was Mary Moore able to help y’all out?”
My father’s eyes dart from me to Linney. He looks like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Oh, um, yes, I think she was.” He clears his throat.
Linney’s suspicious expression is laser-focused on him.
Mrs. Musgrove seems to sense that Dad doesn’t want to talk about whatever this is in front of us. “Ah, right. Well, I’m glad she was a help.” She turns toward me then, pulling me into a hug. “Miss Nikki Bennet! How are you, darling? And who is this handsome fella you’ve got with you?”
“Nate Lancolm, ma’am,” he says, reaching out a hand. “I’m Cooper’s fia—”
“Cooper’s friend!” I interject. “Well, really a friend to all us Bennets. A family friend.”
Nate looks at me curiously, and I silently beg him to catch on.
I don’t want word getting around town about Cooper’s engagement any sooner than it has to.
I know once we start wedding planning, it won’t stay a secret for long.
But I’m dreading the moment when everyone realizes just who my brother is marrying.
The whole town watched my season of LovedBy—they were so proud to cheer on one of their own on national television.
It was so sweet, and their support meant so much…
but it also meant that everyone—from my kindergarten teacher to the local mailman—witnessed my heartbreak on live TV.
They’ve all seen me stutter my words and ugly-cry as my perfect love story came crashing down around me, exposing what a gullible idiot I was.
I mean, I know now that I wasn’t a gullible idiot; I was just played hard. But I sure felt like one at the time.
“Well, we are so happy to have you back, Miss Nikki.” Patsy turns to Nate.
“I’ve known Miss Nikki since she was competing for the National American Miss Georgia State preteen title.
Did you know she’s the only Lake Thomas grad in history to get a full ride to USC?
” Before Nate can respond, she pivots back to me.
“Oh, Mary Moore will be so glad to hear you’re in town, hon! Y’all will have to get together.”
“I’d love that,” I lie. Mary Moore was my best friend at one point, yes, but also my worst frenemy and frequent pageant competition throughout our teen years.
She now lives near Linney in Atlanta, married a guy she met at Georgia, and now has two very adorable children whom she dresses up in matching smocked outfits for every holiday.
She works part-time as a real estate agent and spends the rest of her time embroidering monogrammed tea towels.
In short, her life is a lot like what I expected mine to be by this age.
Seeing Mary Moore would just be another unwelcome reminder of how far off the rails my own life has gotten.
I still need a new apartment in LA, but it’s not just that.
It’s that my whole life just feels sort of…
open-ended. But not in a good way. There’s a terrifying uncertainty gnawing at me from within, and it feels like I’m only a few unwittingly personal questions away from falling apart and revealing it all.
When Mrs. Musgrove leaves to join the rest of her family, I’m relieved to find my niece and nephew crabby, overheated, and hungry. The perfect excuse for us all to head home from the parade before I have to put on yet another fake smile.