by Amy Jones
“Yeah, Tony,” Ava said. “You should definitely tell him.”
Antonio took Micah out of Molly’s arms. “I won’t need to tell him,” he said, peppering his face with kisses. “He’s going to be the best bike rider there ever was in the whole world.”
“He’ll be good at everything. Just like his daddy,” Molly said, now wrapping her arms around both of them.
Ava turned to Val and pretended to stick her finger down her throat. But inside, she felt like crying. What must it be like, to be with someone who loves you that much? To be a part of a family like that?
“Should we get some lunch?” David asked as he opened the car door. “We could do a really great scene at Costa’s. The owner loves me. We used to go there all the time, remember, you guys? The place with the old-fashioned scale in the foyer?”
“I remember,” said Ava. “Good to know you’re not completely reinventing our past.”
“Ava.”
“Can I go back to the hotel room?”
“Ava!”
“What? It’s not like you’re going to need me for the scene anyway. It’s just going to all be Eden.” David glared at her. “Fine.” She climbed into the car. “But I’m going to get the biggest pizza there is and I’m going to eat the whole thing.”
“No pizza for us,” Molly said, climbing in next to them. “We’re strictly paleo these days, right, Tony?”
While they drove, Ava stared out the window, wondering how Molly had become the ordinary, boring person she was. Maybe her secret dream as a kid had been to be a pilot, or play an instrument, or go to Paris, but she had given up on it before she had even graduated high school, knowing dreams were for people who didn’t understand the real world. In university, she had probably thought it was romantic that Antonio was a filmmaker, but now she hated the lifestyle, and wanted him to come back to Hoboken or wherever it was they lived and maybe work at the local television station, or in advertising, something nine-to-five, so he could be home on weekends to coach Micah’s soccer team. And now, this was her life. Making holiday centrepieces as a hobby, or collecting things with penguins or rabbits on them, knick-knacks on a mantel, plates hanging on walls. A glass of wine with dinner and maybe a martini on girls’ night, never losing control. Never letting Antonio touch her except on the weekends, and even then she often had a headache, or she was too tired, or Micah needed one more story. It made Ava want to lash out at her, for reasons she couldn’t quite understand. She was mad at Molly for wasting her life. But she was also mad at herself, for wanting a life she’d never thought she should want.
When they got to the restaurant, Ava ordered a whole pizza, eating it in large, greasy bites as Molly picked at her salad.
“You’re so lucky, Avalon,” Molly said. “I remember when I was your age and I could eat anything I wanted.”
“You still can,” Ava said. She picked a piece of pepperoni off her plate and studied it, her fingers glistening with grease. “Or is there a law I don’t know about?”
“No law.” Molly laughed, revealing teeth teeming with masticated bits of kale. “Just don’t want to get fat.”
She leaned across the table toward Molly. “What do you mean ‘get’?”
No one said anything. Molly sat back in her chair, her face a deep scarlet.
“Ava,” Antonio said quietly. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” said Ava. Everyone kept staring at her, and she felt a fault line crack open somewhere deep inside herself. She jumped up from the table and ran out of the restaurant. Outside, it had started to rain, but she kept running anyway, down the block and around the corner, as far as she could get from the restaurant without getting lost, needing to get away, away. She pulled herself into the doorway of a boarded-up bodega before letting the tears come, hot and unrelenting, as she held on to the brick wall with one hand and doubled over, trying to breathe through the sobs.
How had this happened? She was so angry all the time, so mean, so sad. She had become a vibrating mass of restless energy, a seething ball of need. Some days it seemed like all she did was eat and masturbate, one hand in a chip bowl and the other snaked down the front of her underwear in some kind of fever dream, desperately trying to make it all stop. But no matter how many cupcakes she shoved in her mouth, no matter how many furtive orgasms she gave herself under the covers at night, it was still there, this violent ache in the deepest part of her. Every waking minute full of wanting. And the problem was, she didn’t even know what she wanted. Except that it was everything. She wanted everything.
“You okay?”
Ava looked up to see Eden standing in the doorway, a polka dot umbrella held over her head. “Not really,” she said. She straightened, and was surprised to discover that she and Eden were the same height, even though she was standing on a step. “Why’d they send you?”
“They didn’t. I just left. I’m pretty sure David’s having a heart attack right now. He really wanted to have a scene with me and the owner of Costa’s.” She reached into the pocket of her military jacket, pulled out a tube of lip gloss, and ran it over her lips. “You know, that Molly chick is a pure bitch. She drives me crazy every time I’m here, like trying to pretend to be my mom or something. One time she actually referred to herself as my ‘positive female role model.’”
Ava shrugged. “I did call her fat.”
“She is fat.”
“No, she’s not. And even if she was, I still shouldn’t have said it. That’s not me.” She pulled her hands into her sleeves, realizing she had no coat. “Anyway, when did you go all Mean Girl?”
“I’m not mean, I’m honest.”
“Yeah, right.” Ava shook her head. She didn’t want to be having this conversation with Eden. She didn’t want to know how Eden felt about Molly. She didn’t want to know how Eden felt about anything. “You should go back. Just leave me alone.”
“No.”
“Eden, just go, okay? I don’t want you here.”
“Oh my god!”
They turned to see a woman standing on the sidewalk a few feet away, holding her phone up in the air.
“Eden! Eden Hart! It’s me, Sally!”
Ava turned to Eden. “Do you know that woman?”
Eden shook her head. “We’d better go.” When Ava didn’t move, her sister grabbed her hand and dragged her down the sidewalk.
Over her shoulder, Ava saw the woman running toward them, so they began to run too, their feet splashing through puddles as they made their way back toward the restaurant.
“Hey, wait! Eden, it’s me! From your fan club!”
A small crowd of people had stopped on the street, watching the woman as she huffed after Ava and Eden, trying to figure out what the spectacle was. A few of them had joined in, and as a group they seemed to move faster, like a rock picking up momentum as it rolled down a hill.
In a low voice, Eden said, “Ignore them. Talk to me about something else.”
“Uh, did you hear about Tammy, the day cook from the B&B? She got fired. Apparently she was stealing booze.”
“Oh no. I liked Tammy.”
The crowd running after them had grown to at least a dozen people now. Ava could feel her heart speed up in her chest. “Well, you steal booze, you have to face the consequences, I guess.”
“Ava, did you steal something?” someone called out from the crowd. “Is that going to happen next season?”
“Relax,” Eden said, but all Ava could see was a wall of phones being held up in her face, a loud din of voices calling out their names. A woman put her arm around Ava’s shoulders and pressed her sweaty cheek against hers, snapping a selfie while Ava raised her arm like a battering ram, trying to get through the crowd. Then there was a tug on her sweater from behind, and she fell to the ground.
“Please,” Ava said. “Just let me get up.” But when she tried to push herself up off the wet concrete, a large shoe came down on her hand, grinding her fingers into the ground. She screamed and fell forwa
rd onto her knees, but then she felt another shoe in her side as someone stumbled over her, a hailstorm of obscenities showering down on her from above. A hand reached down and yanked her to her feet, pulling her close as a phone hovered in front of her for another selfie, her own terrified face staring back at her from the screen. She squirmed free and whirled around to face another camera, then another, and another—bodies crushing against her, faces coming in too close, damp cheeks pressed to her skin, sour breath filling her lungs, hair in her mouth, an elbow in her stomach—and everything started to go black.
“Hey,” she heard Eden say from somewhere in the distance. “Back off!”
Suddenly there was coughing and sputtering, and as the crowd dispersed, Ava’s eyes began to burn, so she squeezed them shut. When she opened her mouth to breathe, she realized she couldn’t.
“Come on,” Eden said, her voice muffled. Ava could feel Eden’s hand on her arm, dragging her forward once again. “We need to get out of here.” Ava forced her eyes open a crack but everything was still blurry, so she let Eden lead her down the street until she couldn’t hear the crowd anymore. “Sit here,” Eden commanded, and Ava let her knees collapse, her back finding cold brick.
“I can’t see,” said Ava, jamming her fists desperately into her eyes.
“Jesus, don’t rub it,” said Eden. Ava felt cold water splashing on her face and the pain started to dissolve. “You’ve gotta shut your eyes when someone fires off bear spray,” she said. “These are basic survival skills, Ava.”
She blinked until her vision began to clear. Eden’s eyes were rimmed with red and she had her scarf tied around the lower half of her face, her chin jutting forward in a way that made her seem so much older, so hardened, a world-weary soldier rather than a carefree fourteen-year-old. In one hand, she held an empty plastic water bottle. Who is this girl? thought Ava, wiping away the tears running down her cheeks. Where is the meek little mouse I was with earlier today?
“How was I supposed to know you had bear spray? What are you, like, some kind of super spy or something?”
“I don’t trust those security lunkheads to protect me.” Eden picked up her umbrella, which was overturned in a puddle, still open, and started shaking it. Then she capped the empty water bottle and tucked it back in her bag. “Did you know that when I was in L.A. last year someone tried to attack me with scissors? I swear to you, Ava, this guy just came at me, screaming something about wanting a piece of me. A literal piece of me. And security was nowhere.”
“What did you do?”
“I kicked him in the balls. Then I jammed the heel of my hand into his nose. Like this.” She reached out and touched Ava’s nose with her palm. “I learned it on YouTube.”
Ava pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands and started wiping at her eyes. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.” She said it as a joke, but suddenly it didn’t feel like one. None of them knew each other anymore. “So that little sweetie-pie act back at the apartment building—that was just for the cameras, I guess, right? Playing it up for the YouTube clicks?”
“It’s Child Star 101.” Eden’s eyes were flat, emotionless. “We’re not supposed to grow up, until we are grown-up. No in-between stages, no awkward phases, no figuring shit out. It’s either sticker books or sex tapes.” She pulled in the spokes of the umbrella, wrapping the Velcro back around it. “I’m not ready for sex tapes yet.”
“That’s really messed up.” Ava paused. “Why do you let them do this to you?”
“It’s what I signed up for.”
“Did you?” Ava thought back to that day in the kitchen when the news about the show’s renewal broke. At the time, it didn’t seem like Eden had wanted any of this. Ava knew she should feel some sort of sisterly compassion for her, but the memory of that day just enraged her all over again. Back then, Eden had let everyone steamroll over her because she didn’t know any better. But now she was playing along, and somehow that made it so much worse. “It doesn’t really matter. I guess this is what you do now. Put on this perfect-little-princess act so you can stay famous.”
“I guess it is,” Eden said lightly. “I mean, it’s better than being stuck in Gin Harbour.”
Ava gritted her teeth. “At least we can agree on that.”
They sat side by side on the ground with their backs against the wall, watching the rain pour off the roof of the building across from them. Neither of them said anything, because there was nothing more to say.
* * *
Fade in.
THE HART FAMILY is sitting on a couch next to late-night personality ZOE CONRAD. They laugh at a joke that CONRAD has just told, a lame attempt at a pun featuring their name. They look happy, peaceful, like a fun-loving family, one that you would want to invite over for Sunday dinner.
CONRAD
So, it must be really great for you all to be back in New York. How does it feel? Ava, let’s start with you.
AVA
(Looking directly at the camera) It’s been amazing. I’m so glad to be back. I really missed the bagels.
TMI Online
News – Sports – Celebs – Watch – Connect
EXCLUSIVE VIDEO: Nuclear Meltdown! Eden Hart allegedly pepper-sprays fans, gets arrested in NYC
By Sadie Jackson
March 22, 2013 8:32 am
Last night in the Big Apple, reality TV’s reigning sweetHART got into an argument with some fans outside Costa’s Pizzeria, then allegedly fired off some pepper-spray into the crowd, TMI has learned.
Fourteen-year-old Eden Hart was outside the famous pizza joint with an unnamed friend when a crowd started to form. Without warning, the pretty preteen whipped out a canister and was spraying everyone—including several members of Garden of Eden, her unofficial fan club, who had been following her on her publicity tour through NYC.
“People were coughing, choking…one woman had to be taken to hospital,” an unnamed source and a high-ranking GoE member told us. “I used to love her so much. I thought of her as my daughter. But now I feel like she’s going down a bad path. I’m probably going to have to join a new fan club. Who’s that little one who sang that song on Ellen? Maybe her, I don’t know.”
NYPD sources confirm that the police were called and multiple statements taken, but we’re told no charges have been filed.
LifeStyle Network representatives have yet to issue any comment on the incident, or on rumours that Hart may have been on a drinking binge the night of the incident.
Word has it that Hart has now fled the country, and is hiding out in Gin Harbour, Canada, where her show, Home Is Where the Hart Is, is currently based.
An anonymous source close to the production tells us that although Hart may appear sweet as pie on the show, “she can be a real diva on set, making outrageous demands, and treating her manager/dad David like crap!”
TMI Online wants to know: Do you think Eden Hart is a sweetie or a spoiled brat?
9 Comments
Clandy 1 min ago
Brat
Sarahhhhhh 1 min ago
brat
x_ilo_x 1 min ago
such a brat
SallyO 1 min ago
This is bull. Seriously, you guys should be ashamed of yourselves, making up stories about poor, little, innocent girls. Eden deserves better than this, and all you haters can go screw yourselves because Eden doesn’t need you, she is better than all of you.
Ron Swanson 2 min ago
brat
Jen McLeod 2 min ago
Brat
JuicyG 3 min ago
You suck TMI
xela 3 min ago
brat
Peter Smyk 3 min ago
brat
alignaboveofficial Follow
alignaboveofficial Halifax, it’s been a hell of a ride. We’ll miss you! Come out to the Octopus tonight to say goodbye! #halifaxbands #halifax4life
Load more comments
kathkrammer we are so
sad to see you go!
megamona678 I remember the first time I saw you guys, at that all ages club on Gottingen. I knew then that you were going to be huge. I feel honoured to have been able to see you so many times over the years. You will kill it in Toronto!
jackfrancis018 can’t wait for the show!
stivanypie Halifax loves you!
xohamburgerxo sellouts
sarah_hannah767 @xohamburgerxo seriously? You think they should stay in Halifax and play at the Octopus for the rest of their lives?
xohamburgerxo @sarah_hannah767 They don’t have to go to Toronto. Toronto sucks.
Mags
July 2013
“Not Dead Yet”
Align Above “Goodbye Halifax” Shows was what the posters said, but the closer the dates of their final hometown concerts came, the more Mags was having doubts. There was an old, familiar fear welling up inside her, and she moved through her days with it sitting like a lead weight in her chest.
“You know, maybe we shouldn’t leave,” she said, as they were finishing their soundcheck for the first of their three sold-out shows at the Octopus. “The scene here is just getting started.”
They all stared at her incredulously. “The scene here is over,” Paul said.
“You don’t know that.” She ran her fingers lightly over the mic stand. “We could leave and it could explode, like it did in the early ’90s. And then we’d be the idiots who missed it.”