Chapter 3
Ripley
Is she out of her mind? I grab my bag from my car when I arrive at school, nearly ripping off the strap when it gets caught on the doorframe.
Me, the lead of a reality dating show? Absolutely no way that’s happening.
I would rather walk across a thousand Legos barefoot than be anywhere near those cameras.
And when I explained that to Mom, she had the audacity to guilt-trip me with logic.
Thus far, the investors have only agreed to fund the show.
If it goes well, they will continue to invest in the app itself for further growth after the initial launch.
Which means if the show never gets off the ground – or is an utter disaster – everything Beeloved and Mom have worked for will be at risk.
Obviously, I don’t want Mom to lose her livelihood, but I also know that me as the star is not the solution she thinks it is. I’m just convenient because there are less hoops to jump through.
I’m fuming, cheeks flushed as I walk into school.
I hate that my body always puts on display my inner turmoil.
First period is nearly over, but I should be able to get in and see what I missed.
I try to take a few calming breaths. I have an app that’s supposed to help, but I refuse to pay the monthly fee any more.
I’m so tired of living in a subscription world.
I place the backs of my hands on my cheeks. The cold feels good. My body takes a few minutes to react, but the heat on my cheeks isn’t cranberry red any more – just a soft cherub pink, or a mad Cupid.
Walking to class, I formulate an exit strategy for this whole reality show idea before Mom lets it get too far. She said they had a pool of candidates for me to choose from. They just need to narrow it down asap to prep for filming starting next month.
As my mind spirals, assessing all the ways this could go horribly wrong, I bite my thumbnail again. That’s the second time this morning Mom has pushed me to the edge. I try to rein it in before I lose it completely.
This is fine. I can fix this.
All I need to do is give Mom a better star than me. Shouldn’t be hard. I don’t exactly scream leading lady material. That’s why I can’t figure out why she picked me. Maybe she’s projecting her lack of love on her closest living relative.
Speaking of – my phone buzzes with a text from my dad.
It’s a message to pass on to Mom. They’ve been doing this since forever.
First, Anna was the translator, but now that she’s out of the house, it’s my job.
The messages always have a bitter undertone.
All these years later, they still haven’t let it go.
Is that all life is? A string of messy breakups that destroy you every time. Or worse, being stuck with someone you hate simply because you can’t afford to go it alone?
As I slip into my seat in class, next to my two best friends, I’m once again thankful that I’ve already decided to skip the whole love thing.
‘Oh no,’ Nathan says as he glances up from his computer. His red hair is messy on top, where he’s been fluffing it. It’s barely November, but he’s already counting down the days to Christmas. He’s wearing his favorite Santa earrings with the bright, glittery fake snow on Santa’s rosy cheeks.
‘What?’ I pull the neck of my camel knit sweater, worried I got Molly’s breakfast all over me.
The rest of the class is busy listening to the lecture, but a few near us glance back.
I scoot lower into my seat. I’m not a fan of attention unless I’ve initiated it.
Again, another reason me and a camera won’t mix.
‘What?’ Melika, my other best friend, echoes.
She’s got her tablet up, but instead of schoolwork she’s tracking her eBay bids.
Melika’s family owns a wildly successful chain of authentic Hawaiian bakeries – they use recipes handed down from generations, but she’s not ready to join the family business.
She wants to own a vintage store one day and is always hunting for unique pieces to sell via her online shop.
‘You’re in a state,’ Nathan answers for Melika, who’s furiously punching away at her screen as she does all she can not to get outbid.
‘I’m not.’ I don’t look at them as I yank out my tablet to copy the notes up front. Next to my tablet I’m surprised to see one of Molly’s favorite picture books. I pull it out, having no idea how she snuck it in there, and place it on the desk.
‘OK, we’ll circle back to your state in a moment, but first –’ Nathan grabs the book, flipping through it – ‘why do you have a Fairytale Gardens storybook? Please tell me you’ve finally decided to give in and try a roller coaster.’ His eyes light up like Santa came early.
‘I have not.’ I take notes to distract from the dry mouth and heart palpitations. ‘Molly must have put it in there.’
‘You’re really missing out, Rip,’ Melika says, re-entering her chilled state now that she’s won her bid. She is usually the tame cat, but her lioness emerges when she’s determined.
I don’t do theme parks. Nathan and Melika go every year, but it’s just not my vibe. I hate all the noise and heights and the feeling of head-spinning nausea. ‘Yeah, I just don’t get the appeal.’ I’m feeling a little better, now that I’m back with them.
‘I’ll give you appeal.’ Nathan grabs his phone and shows me a picture. ‘This smoke show is one reason. Sir Kendrick, be still my heart.’ On screen is Nathan, next to a guy our age dressed like a knight.
‘Is that Garrick Walton?’ I zoom in on his face. His bright-blonde hair shines in the sun; his sun-kissed skin and charming smile are almost as bright. There’s a look behind his eyes that tells me he knows he’s hot.
‘Yeah, you know his family owns the park, right?’ Melika says.
‘Of course I do.’ Everyone knows the Waltons.
They’ve been wildly popular since we were kids.
I’ve barely said a handful of words to Garrick.
We don’t run in the same circles. I’ve had a few classes with his brother Tristian, but that’s about the extent of our interactions.
Still, I have admired him in the hallways or across the cafeteria once or twice.
He’s got a way about him – people flock in his direction.
As I finish taking notes, the brief distraction of Nathan and Melika wears off and I’m back to the reality show. Mom needs a lead that isn’t me. So, what if I found someone who is already good at performing and has ties to Fairytale Gardens?
I pull up Instagram and search Garrick Walton. Of course, he’s got a ton of followers and plenty of likes on his thirst traps. I might not know him, but this isn’t surprising, which is fine because that’s exactly the energy I need for my plan.
Garrick Walton has a built-in fan base from his Fairytale Gardens persona: an audience Mom could use to boost her show and app. Nathan was drooling over Garrick, which means getting a bunch of girls to fall in love with him shouldn’t be that hard.
Before I can overthink it, I send him a DM, which I never do.
I’m not the shoot-your-shot type of girl, but I’m desperate.
I could find him somewhere in school, but that feels too much.
Plus, I don’t know where he is. I wait for the little message to say he’s seen my DM, but as class ends there is still no response.
OK, so Garrick Walton is officially ignoring me.
Fine, maybe not ignoring me, but he hasn’t even looked at my DM and it’s been hours.
My throat constricts as I reread the message at the dinner table for the hundredth time – the desperate tone so unlike me.
Maybe I should have got the Beeloved account to send the message. It would’ve sounded more professional.
I know he’s been on Insta. He’s posted a story of his food and a reel of him in a Santa outfit – I’m not sure what that one was about. But what he hasn’t done is answer me. My foot taps loudly against the brick floor, the phone trembling under my iron grip.
‘Juliet, no phones at the table,’ Mom says as I look at her over my plate of take-out chicken parm.
Tonight, it’s Italian. Last night, it was Korean.
Tomorrow, it’ll be BBQ or sushi or anything from the plethora of takeout go-to’s we have.
I don’t ever remember seeing Mom cook. Maybe if I dig back really, really far into my toddler memories, before my parents were divorced, I might scrounge one up. But I wouldn’t count on it.
I try to hold back my sarcasm as I point to her phone, which is also on the table. ‘Is this a “do as I say, not as I do” moment?’
Mom quirks her lip, almost like she wants to smile but doesn’t. ‘Yes.’
I sigh, putting my phone face down on the table, willing Garrick to respond while I wolf down my dinner.
The lighting in the dining room is moody.
A large brass chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling casts a warm glow on the oversized, reclaimed-wood table.
Despite the warm materials made to make this house, it’s always felt cold.
It’s probably due to the sparse decor. Mom is a minimalist and doesn’t like clutter.
That includes pictures of her family. There is only one, on the entryway table – a picture of me and Anna at her graduation from college.
‘Did you look at the email I sent with the contestant files?’ Mom asks.
‘No,’ I say with a mouthful of pasta, red sauce coating my chin.
‘Juliet, this type of eating will not do on the show.’ Her lips press into a thin line.
‘This is how I eat.’ I mean, it kinda is. I might be playing it up slightly for dramatics.
‘We need to get waivers signed, and the longer you wait, the tighter our deadlines get. Christmas is a busy time, and even though we are only pulling contestants from surrounding areas, it’s still difficult to have enough willing to be on our show for three weeks over the holidays.’
‘I’m sure the TikTok followers are a nice incentive to miss out on precious holiday memories.’ I push my plate away, appetite soured. That’s why I know we can find ten willing girls to be contestants in plenty of time.
Mom looks blankly at me.
I cross my arms, leaning back in my chair. ‘People go on those shows to get famous. Not to find love. Especially at our age.’
Mom shakes her head. ‘Don’t be such a Negative Nelly, Juliet. Everyone wants love.’
All opposed, please raise your hand. I raise my hand.
‘What are you doing?’ Mom asks.
Oops. ‘Stretching.’
‘Will you read the email tonight, please?’ She sips her wine.
‘I promise I will get your star ready.’ The almost lie tingles on my tongue.
She beams, and I leave off that it’s not me.
After dinner, I’m more determined than ever.
I video call Nathan and Melika as I flop on to my bed.
My stomach churns from worry and undigested chicken parm.
My room is the only place in the house with some personality.
I have pictures of me and the people I love most in the world strung on fairy lights around the walls.
I nestle into the fluffy teal blanket Anna gave me last year for my birthday.
‘OK, take me to this infamous theme park you two fools love so much,’ I say when their faces pop on screen.
‘Really?’ Nathan beams, like Christmas came early.
I told them about my mom’s show at school and my idea to get Garrick involved. They annoyingly said I should be the lead, but I shut that down. I don’t know what’s in the air, making anyone think I want to be the star.
‘Infamous is the right word,’ Melika adds. ‘We all heard about that charity scandal last summer.’
I might not care about Fairytale Gardens, but I literally could not escape the drama.
It was all anyone talked about for like two weeks.
All I thought was how bad I felt for the Waltons.
Having your family drama spread across the internet for people to consume and comment on sounds like a nightmare.
But they appear to have come out of it for the better, if what I’ve spied on social media today while waiting for Garrick to respond is any indication.
‘But that was resolved, right?’ Mom said they looked into it.
‘Yeah,’ Nathan says. ‘But still a big ’ole yikes.’
Digging my fingers into my blanket, I steady myself. ‘I don’t care about that. I just need Garrick to agree so that I can convince my mom that he’s a better choice than I am.’
All of that’s easier said than done.