Chapter Two
“Here we are,” BamBam said, tapping her credit card to the cab’s reader.
By the time our taxi reached the hotel—BamBam refused to take the hotel shuttle, because Buzzy would be on it—I was both the most comfortable and the least relaxed I’d ever been.
I had so much room on the flight over but couldn’t sleep knowing that Buzzy and Ethan were one row back and across the aisle.
Somewhere over Colorado, BamBam reiterated to me in unequivocal terms that I was to avoid “fraternizing with that insipid woman or her young person at all costs.” Of course, that directive didn’t stop my mind from spinning a million scenarios of all the things that could go wrong with those two here.
Okay, and one absolutely impossible scenario where Ethan and I became friends and Buzzy and BamBam let their rivalry go.
I know, I know. Don’t judge me based on one moment of misplaced optimism.
Dragging our suitcases toward the entrance, I felt a blast of cold air and general overwhelm hit me as soon as the doors to the Stonereel Casino and Resort opened.
It was giving exactly what the commercials for Las Vegas promised—upscale and tacky all at once.
White marble covered every surface, and a massive chandelier hung in the entryway above an oversized white table with a gigantic yellow orchid growing in a glass dome.
But what commercials could never have prepared me for was the sound.
A wall of pings and dings from a casino floor I couldn’t even see yet, squeaky suitcase wheels, and helpful employees with chipper voices all trying to get my attention at the same time.
“We’re gonna have some fun this week. You know they have twenty restaurants in this hotel, and I have good luck with pai gow.
Grandma is gonna win some walking-around money.
Might even share it with you.” BamBam gave me a side squeeze, then, standing up straighter, she added, “Alright. Time to go be Mini.”
I had just enough time to think about how weird it was that my grandma had a semifamous alter ego before a few people began to approach her for pictures.
I wheeled our suitcases around and found a spot to film where BamBam wouldn’t be backlit and tried to capture a few seconds of video for her travel-recap post.
I’d taken another two steps to the side to get a clear shot of BamBam’s smile as she gave someone a hug, when a shriek echoed across the lobby.
“Jamie!” Nittha Suparat drew out the e sound in my name so that it was about forty-five syllables long and squeezed me hard enough that she nearly knocked me off balance. “I missed you.”
“Hi, Nittha.” I gasped, trying to free my arms from her death grip so I could hug her back.
“I’m extremely glad you are here. This whole week would have been tragic without you,” she announced to the entire lobby while still holding on to me.
“No one would ever accuse you of hyperbole.” The voice of Gabriela Avila came from somewhere over my shoulder.
Craning my neck, I could see Gabby making her way toward us in her trademark black faux-leather miniskirt and combat boots, her usually big, curly reddish-brown hair worked into two French braids.
Gabby’s personality was what you’d get if a sass machine married a goth girl and had a baby in Florida.
Half Afro-Cuban and half white, the girl never met a black nail polish that she didn’t like.
Gabby was a dyslexia-and-reading-differences creator who loved all things vegan-fashion and was currently dabbling in judo.
Most importantly, she was the kind of loyal friend who’d help you hide a body even as she told you how stupid you were for being in the situation in the first place.
Tapping Nittha, she said, “Let go. You’re hogging Jamie, and I want to hug her now. ”
A knot of people watched us, trying to figure out if we were famous enough that they should want to take pictures with us, too. My face got hot, and my friends grinned.
“Still shy. Don’t worry. No one cares about us.
” Nittha laughed and waved a hand around dismissively, her hot-pink manicure flashing against the white walls of the lobby.
Nittha and I were the same height, but that was about where the similarities ended.
While I was a quiet, skinny, Midwestern, half-Black, half-white girl from Chicago, she was a spunky, curvy, first-generation Thai American from Los Angeles.
Where I was understated and a bit anxious, Nittha was all about bright colors and big, exaggerated emotions.
Where I was a straight-A student who went to every class like my life depended on it, Nittha had convinced her parents to let her go to online high school so she and Cricket, her dog-turned-social-media-star, could work whenever and wherever they wanted.
As ridiculous as she could be, she was also like sunshine in human form.
When I first started coming to influencer events with BamBam, I kept mostly to myself.
Nittha, on the other hand, was a friend-making magnet.
She basically wouldn’t leave me alone, until one day, we were legit friends.
The following year, she’d done the same thing to Gabby once Gabby had started going to Nittha’s online school during the pandemic.
Now our little friend group was like an island in a sea of sometimes-cliquey and drama-filled content creators who we tried to steer clear of.
“Where is Cricket?” I asked, searching for Nittha’s ever-present sixish-year-old one-eyed Yorkie. We didn’t know much about Cricket’s life before Nittha, but whatever it was it couldn’t possibly hold a candle to how spoiled she was now.
“Oops! I left her on the chair when I saw you come in.” Already bouncing back to where she’d left her dog, Nittha asked, “What happened on your flight? Your text sounded dire.”
“I literally texted ‘in the cab with BamBam. Long story, be in the lobby in twenty.’ How is that dire?” I asked Gabby as Nittha wandered out of hearing range to retrieve her dog.
Gabby rolled her eyes, and I tried not to laugh. “You know Nittha. Why read it as a regular, totally innocent message when you can add drama?”
“Here she is!” Nittha appeared at my side, holding up an unfazed Cricket.
“I like the hat.” I glanced down at the dog, who was wearing a giant sun hat, as if dogs, or anyone, really, need to worry about the sun while indoors.
I was scratching Cricket’s chin when I caught sight of BamBam scowling at the sliding glass doors right as Buzzy stepped off the shuttle.
“Uh-oh,” Gabby said, following my gaze.
“Yeah.” I winced as some of the people talking to BamBam realized that Buzzy was also in the lobby. Ethan stepped out behind her.
“Guess that is part of the long story?” Gabby asked.
“Is it? What happened on the plane? No more catastrophic makeup challenges, right?” Nittha asked, then added, “Do you need to hold Cricket? She is good for emotional support.”
“I might need her later, depending on how today goes.” I giggled. Cricket was a lot of things: Adorable and fluffy, yes. But emotionally supportive? That was a stretch.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ethan wandering away from the collection of people who had formed around his grandmother and strategically willed myself to forget about him.
“Should we talk about it at the pool without the dueling grannies present?” Nittha tried, and failed, to whisper. “Cricket, Gabby, and I were going to grab a couple of bottled waters from the drinks stand, then go. Those pool prices are outrageous. Want to come?”
I’d planned to work more before the convention officially started with a VIP reception tonight, but now that I thought about it, I could take my laptop to the pool and—crap.
“I forgot a swimsuit.” I sighed. Despite my best intentions, I noticed Ethan saunter toward a group of kids our age stationed in the lobby, then stop suddenly. He waved awkwardly at them before meandering in our direction. “I’m sure BamBam would let me get one this afternoon but—”
“Don’t worry, you can borrow one of mine.” Nittha followed my gaze before I could tear it away. “Is it me, or is that cute guy walking this way?”
“He’s probably going to sit over there.” I gestured to some lobby chairs before catching sight of Nittha’s sly expression.
Belatedly, I remembered that Nittha could invent a love story out of thin air, and it was clear that she was already working on one for me and Ethan.
I kicked myself, then added, “And no one said Ethan was cute.”
“You know his name? That must mean something.” Nittha giggled, then shook her hair out of her face. “And clearly he thinks you’re cute, because he is coming over here.”
“What? No he isn’t.” The back of my neck began to prickle with nerves that I assigned to Ethan being foolish enough to stroll in my general direction and not to anything Nittha was saying. Any minute now, he’d pivot toward the chairs and prove my point.
“For the record, I’m not agreeing with Nittha on this particular made-up romance, but he is almost here.” Gabby angled her body away from Ethan so she could talk to us without being overheard. “Why do you look super freaked out?”
Ugh. Gabby was right. He walked right past the chairs and was still on track to run into us. I gritted my teeth and said, “That’s Buzzy’s grandson. He clearly has a death wish.”
“A sexy death wish, maybe.” Nittha wiggled her eyebrows at me.
“Pretty sure that’s not a thing,” I growled.
“Totally is.” Nittha’s voice bubbled with excitement.
“Wait, that is Buzzy’s grandson?” Gabby asked, whipping around to look at him again. Turning back to us, she said, “Why do I feel like I recognize him?”
“G and I should go. Don’t want to overwhelm him when he’s trying to make a move.” Nittha grinned.