Chapter 34 Emmy
Chapter 34
We’ll give you that one out of sheer pity.
Emmy
VAL WIGGLES A mascara wand in front of my face. “You need to do better, Katniss Everdeen. Look up.”
I look up.
He lengthens my lashes and then grabs the eyeliner. “This is your time and you’re squandering it. Look down.”
I look down.
He thickens the line at the edge of my lids. I hear a lipstick tube open. “You are not gonna let that boy ruin this for you. Relax your face.”
I relax my face.
He paints my lips. “You’re gonna go out there, and you’re gonna kill it.” He hands me a tissue. “Blot.”
I blot.
Val leans back and admires his work. Across the hotel room, Josie is doing Peyton’s makeup, both of them perched on plush burgundy chairs in front of a filmy white curtain ten stories up in our hotel room.
“I’m done,” Val concludes. “Now all that’s left to fix is your attitude.”
I move to look at myself in the hotel’s full-length mirror. For the game show, Val has me in couture ripped jeans and a silky black Kate Spade blouse with cat eyes and silver eye shadow. I check my smartwatch. We leave in fifteen minutes, and I’m nervous.
No, that’s a lie. I’m terrified.
The live Celebrity Showdown episode will feature Terica as a guest host and is supposed to be a fun follow-up from our initial meeting on her talk show, but since Jason won’t speak to me, I’m not sure how that’s going to go.
“Eyes on the prize,” Val continues. I watch him packing up his makeup kit behind me in the mirror’s reflection. “Movie tickets sold means books sold. You sell that movie, girl. You were made for this.”
In the monthslong vacuum of news about Jason and me since our so-called affair, book sales have fallen along with the temperatures. I dropped off the bestseller list in October.
“I’m not sure it’ll be enough,” I confess, plopping onto one of the queen beds. “People have lost their enthusiasm for Hashtag Celebrity Crush .”
“Well, no wonder! Y’all are depressing,” Val says. “You need to bring up the energy, Emmy. This is not about what’s really going on. This is about what you want people to think is going on.”
“What do I want them to think?”
“That you’re having fun! That being famous is great! That it’s Disneyland on steroids with lots of glitter and champagne and a bunch of rich white people laughing.”
“You can do hard things.” Josie stops applying Peyton’s lipstick to wave imaginary pom-poms.
“I can do hard things,” I repeat.
“Like first-degree murder,” Josie adds, still waving pom-poms.
The game show studio has no greenroom, so the staff seats us in the studio audience. That means Jason’s here somewhere, too, if he bothered showing up. As we get settled in the orange chairs in the front row, at least half the audience recognizes me and either waves or grins at me. Peyton is smiling ear to ear. Josie looks uncharacteristically nervous, while Val has the cagey look of a bodyguard in drag. Everything is over-the-top decorated for Christmas, including the stage, the curtains, and even the staff.
“Mom, look,” Peyton whispers, pursing her lips. Since I taught her it’s rude to point, she does this thing where she points with her mouth. I follow the trajectory of her lips to find Jason walking across the front of the stage, led by one of the crew. He’s wearing a red sweater that’s way too preppy for my taste and dark pants. The sweater is too tight. He’s really put on weight. She brings him to the chair next to mine, and he falls into it.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi.” At least we’re on speaking terms.
“Jason Connor!” Peyton’s face is all eye shadow and braces. She’s on her knees on the chair, which I’d normally correct her for but don’t bother doing today because, frankly, there’s too much going on for parenting. I introduce Jason to Peyton and then to Josie. To his credit, he resurrects the charm for them. I’m grateful for that.
Once the audience is seated, Terica kicks off the show. The crowd goes wild as we head to the stage. Terica greets us with a look that says, I know what’s going on, but you better not eff this up . I catch Jason’s eye. He nods his agreement. Good. We’re doing this.
“Okay!” Terica turns to the audience. “You’re in for a treat today! If you remember earlier this year, superhunk Jason Connor and author Emmy Ellison met on The Terica Show about her book Hashtag Celebrity Crush . Now that book is a major motion picture premiering this Friday, December ninth! See, kids, dreams do come true!”
The audience cheers. I give an exaggerated wave, exerting as much energy as I can muster. It’s my dream she’s talking about, after all.
“So, Jason and Emmy are going to play a few games with us, and don’t forget, this is live streamed, so text your friends and family and tell them to tune in right now. We’re going to start with Wrong Word.” She turns to us. “So, who wants to give the clue and who wants to get spattered?”
Jason and I just look at each other.
“Come on, no need to be polite,” Terica teases. “How about this? Who deserves to get spattered?”
Jason says dryly, “I’ll do it.”
“Great! Chivalry’s not dead. Here are your glasses, Jason. Go on up and sit on the stool.”
I bounce on my toes and smile at Peyton, who is antsy as a kitten in her seat in the front row. As Jason gets into position, Terica explains the rules. “Emmy is going to get a card with two words on it. One is the right word, and one is the wrong word. She’s got to use one-word clues to get Jason to say the correct word. If he says the wrong word, something’s going to happen that he’s not going to like. Are we ready?”
“Ready!” I blurt.
Jason gives a reluctant thumbs-up.
Terica presses a blue card into my hand with the correct word, famous , and the wrong word, celebrity . Tricky.
“You!” I say.
Jason slumps on the stool, hands clasped in front of him. “Unemployed?”
The audience laughs. I don’t. Terica widens her eyes at me but doesn’t say anything.
“Let’s try again.” I grin at the audience. I go for the movie title: “ Almost …”
“Done?”
The audience mutters. His attitude is a total buzzkill.
“Sean!” I try again.
“Celebrity.”
“Oh no! That’s the wrong word!” Terica cries. “Get ready, Jason. Here it comes!” She presses a button, and purple goo squirts from a pipe and splatters him. It’s surprisingly violent and copious. He startles in his seat, meme face automatically coming into play. It’s hilarious. I can’t stop myself from laughing.
“That was awesome.” Jason’s tone is laced with venom. “Thanks, Emmy.”
“The word was famous . You’re the one who got it wrong.” I can’t help but think this is righteous retribution. Yes, I used Jason for a leg up in Hollywood, but he used me, too, and then dumped me like a hot potato. And he’s been a jerk ever since I got back.
Terica jumps in. “Okay, Emmy, another.”
This time the right word is romance , and the wrong word is love .
“Heart,” I say.
“Love.”
The audience, who can see the words on a screen, goes wild.
“Oh no, Jason, you said the wrong word again!” Without fanfare, Terica splatters him a second time. “The right word was romance .”
“You did that on purpose.” Jason glares at me, and even though I can’t say 100 percent that I didn’t do it on purpose, I’m laughing too hard to protest.
I fake a cheerleader voice. “We can do this, Jason! I know we can. Next card, Terica.” I grab it out of her hand. The right word is chocolate , and the wrong word is dessert .
“Candy,” I say confidently.
Jason is doing his fierce face, except it’s less theatrical because he really is pissed. “Rubber,” he guesses through gritted teeth.
I try again. “Cake.”
“Mushroom.” Is he throwing the game on purpose?
Terica’s lips purse. “I don’t know if you guys are playing this right.”
“Dark,” I say, switching gears.
“Vader.”
“Oh no, Jason, that’s three strikes.” Terica shakes her head. “You didn’t say the wrong word, but you didn’t get the right word, either, so you get splattered anyway.” She pushes the button, and now Jason is covered in purple goo from head to toe. I bend over, holding my stomach, the tension in my muscles evaporating with my laughter. It would be more fun if Jason wasn’t being such a sore loser, but there’s nothing I can do about that.
Terica turns to me. “Well, Emmy, I think you have something to add to your Venn diagram, because you didn’t do too well at that.”
I shrug mock apologetically.
“No problem, because you’re going to get another chance. Jason, come on over. It’s your turn to give the clues. Emmy, have a seat.”
Oh to the crap, I hadn’t thought about the tables being turned. Jason nods at me with a Dexter face as we pass each other on the very messy stage. He hands me the sticky, goo-covered glasses.
“Get ready,” he says.
I take a deep breath and wiggle onto the stool, slipping the glasses over my eyes. The stage and the audience are purple and smeary through the plastic lenses, but I can still make out Peyton bouncing in the front row, Josie grinning like an alligator, and Val sitting cross-legged and judgmental. I’m sure he’s not pleased that his hard work is about to turn into that ectoplasm scene from the original Poltergeist .
“Okay, Jason,” Terica says. “You’ve got your words. Go ahead and give Emmy a clue.”
He shifts his shoulders, and a slow, confident smile spreads across his face. “Cat.”
I take a guess. “Pet.”
“Oh no!” Terica frowns. “That was the wrong word! The right word was dog !”
I close my mouth a fraction of a second before purple goo the consistency of half-solidified Jell-O assaults me. It’s cold and shocking and everywhere. I hold out my spattered arms and shoot Jason a death glare. “Since when is ‘cat’ a clue for ‘dog’?” Grape-flavored spittle flies from my lips.
“Next one!” an apathetic Terica crows.
Jason checks his card. “Cruel.”
I scrunch up my face, trying to work out the psychology. If he wants me to say the wrong word, it’s probably evil , which means I won’t guess that. What’s something kind of like cruel , but not? Maybe the opposite? I feel like I’m in the poisoned wine scene from The Princess Bride .
“Friendly!”
I wince, but it’s not the wrong word.
“Unforgivable.” Jason gives the second clue.
What is he getting at? I could just guess crazy stuff from out in left field, but I’ll still get splattered if I do. “Villain?”
That’s wrong, too.
“Liar.”
Now all I can think of are movie villains. “Thanos?” He wasn’t a liar, though, just misguided.
Terica doesn’t bother saying anything before pushing the button and soaking me again. “The right word was dolphin , and the wrong word was shark . I don’t know what that was all about, but we’re moving on to the next game.”
“You cheated!” I accuse Jason, wiping purple goop off my face and arms as Terica buys us time to clean up with her banter. “What does cruel have to do with dolphin ?”
“I guess it’s just the word association I had going on in my head.”
A burly guy with a Santa hat ushers us back into the lights and commotion, but not before I catch Jason taking a swig from the flask he’s been carrying around all week. A couple of girls in Celebrity Showdown T-shirts and elf shoe coverings strap us into jump seats on circular platforms. Terica is grinning at us, and Peyton is cheering and flailing so violently in her chair that it might require an exorcism. Meanwhile a sinking feeling overwhelms me. I know this game.
“Lucky, lucky Jason and Emmy. You get to play Spinning Hits! That’s where I give you a word, and you have to come up with a song that has that word in it. Emmy, we all know what a great singer you profess to be, so this should be fun.”
Beside me, Jason sniggers. It comes across pretty funny, seeing as he’s strapped into a seat, too. But despite my anger, I really want to talk to him. I need to tell him how I feel, like Josie suggested, and this is probably my only opportunity since he can’t get away.
“If you can’t name a song, or you get it wrong, you get spun really fast for five seconds,” Terica says. “And I promise it’ll be the longest five seconds of your life. Okay, let’s start. The word is ‘didn’t.’ Emmy, ladies first.”
My cheeks fill with air as I scavenge my brain while also stressing about my nonexistent singing skills. Luckily, while my voice is terrible, my memory is a steel trap. I struggle through the first line of “This Night” by Billy Joel.
Terica holds up her cue card. “Well done, Emmy! And only a little off-key. Only a little.” She scrunches her nose at me, and I aim a grateful grin her way. “Jason, you’re up with ‘didn’t.’”
He doesn’t hesitate, singing the song title. “‘I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On.’ Robert Palmer!”
“That’s legit,” Terica says.
“And apropos,” he adds.
I frown and whisper out of the side of my mouth. “Was that really necessary?” Suddenly, he’s grinning and bopping like he’s having the time of his life. The audience loves it.
“Emmy,” Terica says, “another with ‘didn’t.’”
I can’t think of one, so I make up lyrics to the tune of Ariel’s song from The Little Mermaid . “I didn’t send. Those pictures in. It had to be someone else. Someone in the bushes… Oh no, don’t!”
My song is cut off as my seat launches into a spin. Everything blurs, and Terica is right—it’s the longest five seconds of my life. When the spinning finally stops, my head is swirling, and the grape taste in my mouth is no longer even remotely pleasant. Even though I’m drenched in purple, my face must be green because the audience laughs uproariously, and Jason is cackling without the slightest shame or apology.
“Next one! Jason, you’re up. The word is ‘love.’”
Again, he’s lightning fast with “Love on the Rocks” by Neil Diamond, promising to pour me a drink and tell me some lies in an enviable tenor.
“Done and done ,” I hiss.
He smiles sweetly, and that makes me even madder. How did I ever think there was anything between us?
“Emmy, your turn—”
But I’ve already started. “ L is for the way you used to look at me. O is for the only person you want to listen to being yourself. V is very, very selfish and unfair.”
“Okey dokey, I think we know what you were going for, so we’ll give you that one out of sheer pity.” Terica blows out a loud breath.
Jason launches into Def Leppard’s “Love Bites” before he’s even invited to. The audience takes over for him, and he turns to me and sings, more softly, “Love exploits you. Love pretends to care about you…”
“Jason, I think we’ve found your game!” Terica says. “Emmy, you got another?”
I don’t. I’m not having fun anymore. My heart is pounding, and I can’t think straight. I squeeze my eyes shut as off I go again, launched into a grape-smelling tornado of hell. Jason is laughing too hard for it to be a real laugh.
“Well how about that? Jason didn’t get spun once,” Terica says matter-of-factly.
“Well, he is the performer.” I swallow hard as my chair slows and shudders into position. “He’ll do anything, sing anything, say anything. All the world’s a stage, right, Jason?”
“Guess what?” Terica blurts. “It’s time for Falling for Trivia!”
“Get me out of this thing,” I mutter to the crew as they free us.
Jason is still dancing and humming “Love Bites” as he lifts up his arms to get unstrapped. I stagger when my feet hit the stage, and I have to think about the smell of brownies to stop the queasiness. Then up the rattly metal stairs we go into the rafters to the top of the Falling for Trivia platform. We’ll have to answer a bunch of questions until we get enough wrong and the trapdoors open under us. Then we’ll plummet thirty feet into God-knows-what at 9.8 meters per second squared. I learned the exact speed of a falling object while helping Peyton study for her science test last week.
I glance over at Jason, who’s standing only a few feet away from me on another trapdoor. He pulls out his flask again and takes a quick swig while everyone is focused on Terica. I put a hand over my mic and make my voice extra condescending. “You know, it’s really sad seeing you like this.”
He doesn’t even bother covering his mic. “There are three hundred and fifty-nine other degrees. Why don’t you look at one of them?”
“You know, you were supposed to meet me at the back of the yacht,” I hiss. “What if that deckhand hadn’t put the ladder down for me? I could have been left behind, floating in the Pacific.”
He shoots me a look that appears genuinely hurt. “Give me a little credit, Emmy.”
So he did make sure I was safe. Well, at least that’s something. He takes another swig, right there in front of everyone.
“I never meant to hurt you, Jason. Truly.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “When, Emmy? When did you never mean to hurt me? Was it when you posted those photos?”
I roll my eyes. “ A , I told you that wasn’t me, and B , do you really think I would share photos of myself like that when I have a twelve-year-old daughter—”
He cuts me off. “ Or did you never mean to hurt me when you put my personal life in your book?”
My mouth claps shut. He finished it. After everything that happened, I didn’t expect him to actually finish reading it. I try to say something, but nothing comes out.
He looks away. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
I’m still scrambling for a reply when the lights go up and the cameras are on us.
“All righty! Jason and Emmy are in position and ready to play Falling for Trivia. Since it’s just the two of them, this is how we’re going to do it. I’m going to ask a question, but if you get it wrong, you only fall if the other person gets theirs right. Got it?”
I give a weak thumbs-up, but inside I’m reeling. “I really wanted to tell you about that scene,” I whisper to Jason, who’s glaring straight ahead at the far wall of the studio. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Okay, kids! Jason, you get to go first this time. You guys both love movies, so we’ll start with some movie questions. In the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail , what type of bird was discussed regarding its ability to carry coconuts?”
“A swallow, Terica,” he says.
“A swallow is correct!”
I try again, covering my mic and whispering, “It was selfish of me. I wasn’t thinking.”
He replies through gritted teeth, “I told you that story over the phone. What orbital mechanics were going on in your head that you didn’t say anything right then?”
“Okay, Emmy, your turn! How many movies were made of the Hunger Games series?”
“Four!” I shout with confidence before turning my attention back to Jason. “I didn’t know what to do. I tried to tell you and just couldn’t.”
“Jason! What famous actress played the lead role in the 1998 film Sliding Doors ?”
He sighs. “Gwyneth Paltrow. Emmy, forget it. It’s not like we had a future anyway. Next time, do me a favor—pick someone else for your celebrity crush. Pick Sean. Pick Ramirez. Pick Zachary Tay. Anyone but me. Because I don’t want the job.”
I don’t know if there’s anything he could have said to make me feel worse. My knees go weak. Everything feels like it’s swirling downward, into a drain of regret.
“Emmy, yoo-hoo!” Terica calls. “Look over here!” I drag my gaze toward her. “Finish the name of this Mike Myers movie: So I Married…”
“ An Axe Murderer .” I drop my voice again for Jason, and it comes out small, defeated. “I said I was sorry. Are you really not going to forgive me?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Nope.”
“You guys are too good at this. I think it’s time to change topics. Let’s do science.”
My heart is pounding. My smartwatch, the one he bought me, flashes along with all the lights on my dashboard. I tear it off my wrist.
“Jason, which is the larger category for scientific classification? Phylum, family, or class?”
I fling the watch, and it bounces off his chest. With impressive reflexes, he catches it and stuffs it in his pocket. “Phylum.”
“Correct!”
“Fine!” I blink back tears. “Let’s get through this and the premiere, and then we never have to see each other again.”
Jason’s perfect jaw moves in a way I’ve never seen it move before, like he’s grinding metal with his teeth. “I lost the best job I ever had over you, Emmy, and I don’t care anymore what happens with the movie. I hope the press is so bad that they cancel the LA premiere, because I don’t want to do any more of these events. In fact, I’m going to do my best to make sure that happens.”
Terica’s voice is a little desperate and a lot annoyed. “Guys, let’s not talk shop in the middle of Falling for Trivia, ’kay? Emmy? Your answer, please?”
My eyes tear up. Jason’s going to tank the premiere on purpose, destroying everything I’ve worked so hard for. This is just another rodeo for him. But for me… this is my golden ticket! If this movie fails, I may never get to work in Hollywood again.
“Emmy?” Terica warns.
I snuffle and squeeze my eyes shut, fighting back tears. “Can you repeat the question, Terica?”
“Sure. No problem. We’re not on a schedule or anything. How fast does an object fall?”
Oh, thank God and Tom Hanks, there’s some mercy in the universe after all. “Nine point eight meters per second squared.” I turn to Jason, my voice begging. “You wouldn’t do that. I know you wouldn’t do that.”
“Watch me.” He raises his voice. “Terica, I have a Falling for Trivia question for Emmy.”
Oh to the craaaaap! I shake my head at Terica, desperately mouthing “no” at her.
“Well, that’s highly irregular and probably a really bad idea…”
Jason cuts her off. “Emmy, when you came to LA, were you thinking A , I’m going to break into Hollywood with a crappy romance novel and a gimmick, or B , I actually have the talent to make it in this business?”
Red hotness rises up my neck into my cheeks.
“Oh no,” Terica says.
I turn to him. “I’ve got a question for you, too, Jason. When you drink out of that fancy flask of yours, do you think you look like A , Benedict Cumberbatch, or B , Fat Thor?”
His glare is icy. “Fat Thor was still hot!”
“Can we cut to commercial?” Terica makes hand signals to the crew. “Guys, you need to cut it out up there.” She waves and raises her voice. “Guys?”
“Emmy.” Jason’s face is turning as red as mine. “What is the thing you suck at most? A , singing; B , baking things in round pans; or C , thinking about someone other than yourself?”
“Jason!” I counter at the top of my lungs. “Why are you really all alone? A , because your playlist sucks; B , because green smoothies are not breakfast; or C , because you’re a hypocrite?”
Terica stacks her cards. “That’s it. Drop ’em.”
The trapdoors open under us, and we plummet.