“I’m sorry, what? Balls?”
“Vals, with a V.” Alex bends the V, but it still sounds like bahlz. “It’s a special dance—usually with a waltz beat—that you do with your chambelan. I could probably do something like that with you at your Sweet Sixteen party.”
Panic stabs my chest. “Wait. Stephanie never said anything about organized dancing on camera.”
“Oh, I thought it was a given. We could come up with some choreography together if you want. I can also do a simple side-to-side step on the downbeat, if you prefer. I am happy to audition both of these dances for you next week.”
“I can’t wait to see them.”
The porch light comes on, alerting me to the fact that my parents know we are back home. Thankfully, they don’t come outside.
“I should let you go,” Alex says, but he doesn’t let go of my hand.
“Yeah, I should go.” I don’t pull my hand away either.
Alex leans toward me. He tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. His fingertips travel down the length of my jaw. Half of me wants to run. Half of me wants to pull Alex in closer. When Alex leans in, my barriers instinctively come up. My hand shoots out to protect my bubble.
Alex freezes. “Not okay?”
My hand stays firmly planted in the middle of his chest. “It’s complicated.”
“Someone hurt you?”
“Like I said, it’s … complicated.”
Thanks to last year’s Great Homecoming Disaster, the push and pull never stops. If you let people in, they will hurt you. If you don’t let people in, you will still get hurt. Alex’s heart pounds underneath my palm. I want my first kiss—first real kiss—to be right here, right now, and with Alex Santos. I do. Yet something doesn’t feel right. Doesn’t feel good. And even worse, my brain decides to pull up an image of Leo telling me that if something doesn’t feel good, don’t do it.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Alex sits back in his seat, and my hand falls away. “No pressure.”
I clench my fists until my nails dig into my palms. I am so frustrated with myself and all the people who have turned me into this non-functioning version of a teenager.
“Really, Dakota. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Why can’t I be a normal teenager and kiss you like I want to?” I probably should have put a filter on that. “I’m going to go before I humiliate myself even further.”
“Hey, Dakota, for the record, you can kiss me. Anytime. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Next year.”
This guy is too good to be true. Though my heart still threatens to leave my chest, there is a new feeling with it. Usually, when somebody invades my bubble, I feel a contraction. Right now, there’s an expanding feeling. I could …
“Night, Alex.” I chicken out instead.
I unhook my safety belt and grab my purse, but when my hand hits the cold metal door handle, I pause. Dakota?!?!? What are you doing? Before I can chicken out a second time, I turn in my seat, put my hand on the side of Alex’s face and lean into him. Time moves like molasses as my face turns and dips toward Alex’s. I press my lips against his warm, full lips. His eyes open slowly as I pull away. A smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.
“Thank you,” I say. “For everything.”
“You’re welcome, and anytime.”
I slide out of the car and head up the walkway. Alex starts his car but waits until I’m on the porch with the front door unlocked. He rolls down the window and waves at me.
Now this feels good. Maybe this is exactly what I need to move on.
Chapter
18
“Hey, I’m going to have to bail on our plans to watch Kitsune Mask today.” I slide my phone back into my pocket. “Something’s come up.”
“What? We are like three episodes behind now since last week was a double episode,” Leo says as we drop our skateboards on the ground outside of school.
“I know. It’s Phil. Now that everybody is back from vacation, our shooting schedule is cranking up. Plus, we’re doing Alex’s screen test today.”
“So, this means you’ve finally found your Prince Charming for the party?” Leo ollies his skateboard up onto the metal rail of the steps in front of the school and slides down.
When we meet up again at the bottom, I say, “Maaaaaybe.”
“I’m glad,” Leo says and takes off.
When we get to the intersection where we break off, Leo stops again. “How was the big romantic picnic by Tempe Town Lake? Which, by the way, I am stealing for Lindsay’s and my six-month anniversary. Presuming that she hasn’t dumped me by then.”
“Okay. We only got to do the pizza picnic part this time before there was some family emergency.” I drop my foot to stop my skateboard. “Why? Something go sideways on Monday during your date?”
“Pfft. What? No.” Leo pulls his jacket closer around his body even though it is unseasonably warm today. After a beat, Leo says in a quiet voice, “Guys and girls can be friends, right? Best friends, even?”
“Yes. You just have to set some guidelines, so things don’t get weird.”
“Weird like when your friend suddenly wants to make out in a walk-in refrigerator?”
And there we have it.
“First of all, we didn’t make out. All I said was that I had feelings for you, and you noped me. Second of all, dude, why would you tell Lindsay about that?”
“First of all, I didn’t nope you. It was a gentle let-me-think-about-it, followed by you ghosting me for a solid month. Second of all, it just kinda slipped out during our fight on Monday.”
“Well that explains the weirdness at lunch for the last two days. Fine, I’ll go eat by myself again. No biggie.” My heart cracks, but I’m afraid of what will happen if Leo is given an ultimatum.
“What? No. That’s not what I’m saying.” Leo puffs his cheeks and lets out a frustrated breath. “What I’m saying is that if you and Alex—or somebody else—could be A Thing, then my problem with Lindsay would be a non-issue. Then everybody could be happy.”
“I want you to be happy. I want to be happy too.” I’m not sure if it’s going to happen with Alex or not, especially if his family keeps interrupting our dates every five minutes like last time, but I want to give it a try. “So stop sabotaging my dates.”
“It was a joke. I’m sorry. I hope it didn’t ruin your date.”
“Oh, believe me, it didn’t.”
Leo might go for quantity, but I’m going for quality. Thinking about Alex’s soft lips makes me buzz.
Leo cringes. “TMI, Koty.”
“I didn’t tell you anything.”
“Still too much. I don’t want to know about Aurora’s love life or yours either.” Leo says with an overly dramatic shudder.
“Says the guy who inflicts PDA with Lindsay on us pretty much every day, everywhere.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know it bothered you so much. I’ll dial it back. At least in public.”
I don’t want say it’s okay, because Leo and I don’t lie to each other. “You guys are going to get busted by Principal Docker.”
“Too late. Yeah, it’s going to be fun explaining to my parents why I have detention after school tomorrow. Especially when we have a huge retirement party coming in at five.”
I snort-laugh. “I’m sorry. It isn’t funny. But, yeah, it kinda is.”
“Shut up.” Leo gives me a gentle push. “Are you sure you can’t come to the restaurant with me for five minutes while I deliver the news? Ojiichan won’t kill me if you are standing there.”
“I wish I could, but I’m in a hurry.” I put my hand on Leo’s bicep and solemnly wish him luck. “Gambatte ne.”
“I still want to catch up on Kitsune Mask with you soon.”
“Me too!” I yell over my shoulder.
* * *
Alex’s silver Toyota is already at my house by the time I get home. So much for my plan of taking a quick shower and redoing my hair and makeup. I let myself in the house and rekey the alar
m code. Alex’s and Stephanie’s voices echo down the hall from Mom’s office. I place my skateboard in its designated spot in the hall closet and put my shoes in my cubby. Since nobody can see me from this angle, I do a quick pit check. I grab the Febreze out of its designated basket and quickly spray my socked feet. I give my pits a quick squirt for good measure too. I’m fixing my hair in the hall mirror when Stephanie pokes her head out of Mom’s office.
Stephanie catches my eye. “We’re in here, Dakota. Come on through.”
I give my makeup one last check before heading down the hallway. Mom’s office is slightly less cluttered than usual, but there are still rolls upon rolls of vintage wallpaper stacked up like fire logs on her desk.
“Hey, Alex. Glad you could change your schedule.” My heart flutters when Alex looks up.
We do a weird dance of an almost-hug followed by an almost-handshake followed by both of us stepping back a pace and just sitting down without any kind of touching. Stephanie raises an eyebrow.
“Where’s Mom?” I say.
“She and your dad both have eye doctor appointments this afternoon, so I’m running the audition on her behalf.” Stephanie pours a splash of milk into a teacup for me before adding the rich, brown tea to it.
“Dakota’s party is the last Saturday of April, right?” Alex looks down at the fancy tea set and then takes off his baseball hat. “Because if things go well, I hope to be playing in the All-State tournament the first weekend of May. Sorry, that sounds super braggy.”
“It’s not bragging. It’s a fact.” Stephanie hands a teacup and saucer to Alex. “You are a very talented baseball player, Alex. And, yes, the party is the last Saturday in April at Chez Versailles.”
“In all its ridiculous chandelier and velvet glory,” I say.
“Been there. For a quinceañera in August. The hand-painted porcelain urinals. Yeah, that was extra.” Alex reddens. “Sinks. Hand-painted porcelain sinks. And, my audition is over. I’ll show myself out.”
Though I laugh, Alex stands up. When Stephanie gives him a look, he sits back down.
“Now then.” Stephanie looks over the top of her retro purple glasses at Alex. “I will be grilling Mr. Santos here to determine if he is a worthy candidate to be your … escort sounds odd, but date sounds too pedestrian for something of this caliber.”
“Chambelan de Honor?” I say having spent more time than I care to admit to researching the history of quinceañeras. “There really isn’t a non-quinceañera equivalent, but if Phil and The Network get their way, we might as well be doing a crossover special with My Super Sweet Quinceañera. I’m talking ice sculptures in my likeness and a horse-drawn carriage that would make a Disney princess jelly.”
When I laugh, but Alex doesn’t, I make a mental note to insist that Phil should not include either of those things. Because he would if somebody waved enough money in his face.
“I would be honored to be your Chambelan de Honor,” Alex says with the correct pronunciation. “Or whatever your equivalent is.”
“It does require being on camera. A lot. Not as much as Dakota and her parents, obviously, but producers are going to expect you to be part of the narrative. And A Class Act Tuxedo Company would require you to do some call-outs for them wearing their new prom line.”
Alex gulps. “How much talking do I have to do?”
“Some.” Stephanie puts a hand on Alex’s arm. “But we can practice beforehand and do some basic media training with you, if you are comfortable with it, of course. And…” Stephanie holds up a pile of papers written in legalese. “Your mom signs off on it. Sherri already told me she would, if you want to, Alex. But, you don’t owe me anything as your mom’s friend.”
“Five thousand dollars would help pay for all the fees and parking and stuff that my scholarships won’t cover.” Alex nods his head.
I know this is a business, but it still bothers me. And yet, if Alex was on the fence about this, I would dangle that same carrot in front of his face to get him to change his mind.
“Come to the Dark Side, Alex. We have cookies.” I pick up the plate of Cadbury biscuits and wave them in his direction. “Like for real. These biscuits are awesome.”
“What if we film you and Dakota in the McDonalds’ personal workshop today instead of the build’s? We won’t use it on the show. It would just be a test to see if you can block the cameras out.”
“Okay, but remember, you two asked for it,” Alex says.
“Fantastic.” Stephanie grabs her phone and texts madly. A minute later, she reports back. “Phil and some of the camera crew will meet you both in the workshop in ten.” Stephanie looks me over. “You don’t need to change for today, Dakota. But you do need shoes.”
“I left my work boots upstairs yesterday. Let me go grab them.” I drain my teacup. Though Scared Me is fighting to come out, I say, “Do you want to see my room, Alex?”
Alex says, “Sure,” just as Stephanie says, “No.”
“We will wait for you down here,” Stephanie says, pouring herself another cup of tea.
“Oh-kay. Back in a sec then.”
It’s more than a second. I don’t change clothes, but I do fix my hair and makeup. And quickly brush my teeth. Because, you know, you should always be prepared. I clomp back downstairs to see that Stephanie has found a pair of work boots for Alex too.
“Ms. Stephanie said to meet her outside.” Alex stomps around in the hallway. “I feel like Frankenstein’s Monster.”
“Sorry. It’s a shop rule. And…” I reach into the hall closet and pull out two pairs of safety glasses. I put mine in my back pocket, but I step toward Alex and slide the clear glasses over his brownish-green-blue kaleidoscope eyes.
I’m in his personal bubble. He notices. The corner of his mouth pulls up. Though the voice urging me to run away is still there, it’s quieter today. I stay inside Alex’s bubble.
“If you wanted to give me a hug or something, I would be cool with that.” Alex looks deep into my eyes but keeps his hands down by his sides.
My arms slide into the space between Alex’s arms and his waist.
I look up and say back, “If you wanted to give me a hug or something back, I would be cool with that.”
Alex’s hands gently press on my hip bones first. When I don’t pull away, his hands slide around my back until his arms encircle me too. I turn my head to the side so I can rest my cheek on his chest near his collarbone. Though my heart is racing and there is a part of me that still wants to run, I don’t move.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Any time. If you wanted to—”
“Let’s go, guys!” Stephanie’s voice echoes down the hall from the kitchen.
“Hold that thought.” Especially if it was going in the same direction as mine.
I lead Alex through our house and out the back door to Dad’s personal workshop. As usual, Dad’s side looks like an episode of Hoarders. My side is as tidy as a working area can be. I slide my protective eyewear on.
“I grabbed some old, leftover boards so you can practice with low stakes at first.” I slide open one of the bottom drawers in my twenty-drawer turquoise tool chest and pull out the small air compressor, hose, and the airbrush itself.
“First things first, what colors would you like?” I lean over and pull out a drawer before turning my attention back to the air compressor.
“Wooooow,” Alex says about all the choices.
“There are some advantages to having a paint company as one of your sponsors. Pretty sure I have enough paint to graffiti all of Phoenix.” I look over to where Phil stands, giving orders to today’s camera operator. A scowl crosses his face. “Not that I would ever do that, of course.”
“Don’t mind us, kids,” Phil says as Jordan the Camera Op suddenly stands right next to us.
What the actual Phil?
“Hey, you guys need to back up a little.” I flick my hand at Jordan. “I only have two masks. OSHA rules.”
So, I might
be bending the truth a little bit. I’m not an expert on OSHA rules, but Dad does make me wear a mask every time I paint.
“Which do you like better?” Alex’s smooth voice suddenly sounds squeaky and choppy. He holds up two gold paints.
“Both.” I take them from him. “We’ll use this one as the base color and this one as the accent color. First, what do you want to design?”
I lean in front of Alex to grab a pencil from my jar. Alex looks up at the camera and gulps. Sweat dots bead up on Alex’s forehead even though the workshop is cold.
“How about something simple like your name?” I put my hand over Alex’s and squeeze it. “Block letters or a fancy script?”
When Alex doesn’t answer, I sketch out his name in block letters on a piece of old wood.
“Can you go plug in the air compressor over there for me?” I say when I’m done.
When Alex turns around to find the outlet, I give Phil and Jordan the Camera Op an irritated flick with my hands to back up even more. Phil rubs his temples. He whispers something to Stephanie.
“Now for a little latex. Safety first, friends,” I mimic Dad, and Alex bites his bottom lip to contain his smirk.
Yep, that’s a bingo square. It’s one of Dad’s most-used catchphrases. I hand Alex a pair of latex gloves and slide on a pair myself.
“Let’s fill the color cup with this one.” I gently mix the paint. “Normally, you would need to thin your paint, but this one is made specifically for airbrushes.”
I put the airbrush in Alex’s hand and walk him through the process of filling it. With our face masks on and Jordan and his camera pushed back another few steps, I flip on the air compressor. The motor roars as the air pressure increases inside the tank. Once we hit the optimum pressure level at 30 PSI, the motor quiets so I can continue my lesson.
Faking Reality Page 16