“How about we sleep in tomorrow?”
“Agreed. I vote for a complete PJ Day. Maybe binge-watch something not on HGTV? Order in pizza?”
“Sounds perfect.” I adjust Mom’s tasteful, vintage marcasite tiara, which Nevaeh finally talked her into wearing. “Can I tell you a secret? And this absolutely cannot get back to Phil.”
Mom raises an eyebrow.
“I’m looking forward to the party,” I confess. “Having Leo and Aurora and Nevaeh and all my peeps from the Japanese Culture Club to celebrate with me means a lot. Yes, this party is completely extra, but a part of me wants to spoil my friends a little to say thanks for all the unnecessary drama I’ve put them through because of our family’s business. My only regret: that I can’t drive the Mustang I’m going to pretend to be surprised to receive at the party tonight. At the end of this semester, after I pass Drivers Ed…”
“You’re still not going to be driving it,” Mom says.
“But it’s my car.”
“If you can drive clean with no accidents or tickets for a year, then we will hand over the keys to the Mustang to you on your seventeenth birthday. Until then”—Mom takes the sunglasses off my dresser and slides them on—“Mama is going to break it in for you.”
Yeah, we’re going to revisit this conversation later, but for now I say, “You give the woman a tiara, and suddenly she thinks she deserves a convertible.”
“Dakota Rae!” Dad yells up the stairs. “Now!”
* * *
I take my time coming down the stairs. Dad’s face lights up like this isn’t the fourth time we’ve filmed my grand entrance.
“Look at my little girl.” Dad’s voice does genuinely break.
I spin around slowly. Dad gets misty for real this time.
“I wanted to give you something, Koty. Something special from me.”
Dad digs in his tux’s coat pocket and pulls out a small turquoise box. Dad pauses with the closed box on his palm so Jordan can get a good shot before he opens it.
“Aw, it’s beautiful, Dad,” I say as Dad puts the small diamond solitaire on a gold chain around my neck.
“Cut,” Phil says. “Start at the foot of the stairs again. Come on, Dakota, this is your first piece of real jewelry. You’re a grown-up now.”
“Yeah, talk Mom into giving me back my Mustang. That will make me burst into tears.”
Phil lets out an irritated sigh. “Can we just film the pickup, please?”
I swish the bottom of my gown around in true diva fashion and stomp back to the stairs. We do three more versions before I can do a take that doesn’t include snickering and/or sarcasm. To Phil’s disappointment, no tears are shed.
“Dakota, go wait in your Mom’s office, please,” Phil says after checking his phone. “Leo is here.”
“We’re not getting married. It’s not bad luck for him to see me before the event.”
“Please, for me.”
“Fine.” I check my tiara in the hallway mirror before I swoosh into Mom’s office. “I want my phone and something to drink.”
“Dakota Rae,” Dad says in a stern voice.
I grumble, “Please.”
A few minutes later, I hear Leo’s heavy feet running up the stairs and the water running. Stephanie appears in Mom’s office a minute later with a bottle of sparkling water.
“I couldn’t find your phone, your Highness.” Stephanie flops down on her chair and rubs her temples.
“Everything okay?” I say.
“We’re behind schedule. Good thing Leo isn’t as high-maintenance as you are.”
I slide the bottle of sparkling water across the table to her. Stephanie accepts it with a nod.
“Warning: Something is going on with Leo’s grandfather,” Stephanie says. “According to Leo, Grandpa has been feeling under the weather all day. Jen just texted me that they are closing the booth down early because he started throwing up. Sasha will bring Aurora to the party as soon as they get everything packed up and take Grandpa home.”
“Oh no!” I sit up straight. “What about tomorrow? Leo’s Dad can cook too, but not at Ojiichan’s level. This is going to mess everything up. The Phoenix Phoodie Phestival is like Black Friday for the Matsudas.”
“I know. Jen said not to tell Leo because he’ll worry. She wants him to have one night for himself.”
But I always tell Leo the truth, even when it hurts.
As usual, Stephanie reads me like an open book. “If things get serious, Dakota, I will let you know immediately. I promise. Now then, what’s next? Ah, yes, flowers.”
Stephanie is off and running again. Meanwhile, I close my eyes and steady my breathing. I hear Leo thud down the stairs a moment later.
“Here. Take this. No, turn it around so the name is on the outside.” Stephanie’s voice echoes down the hallway. “Go stand outside and pretend like you just arrived in your car.”
“Can we pretend I rolled up in a convertible and not the Matsuda mobile?” Leo says.
“Oh look, poof, it’s a Ferrari. Enjoy. Now go. And a big smile when Dakota answers the door. I’m talking The Full Dimple, got it?”
“Got it.”
The front door opens and closes before Stephanie comes to fetch me. She tucks an errant curl back into the cascade of them tumbling down my back, including the hair that I was not born with. Whatever. They can take their hair back after tonight, but they’re going to have to pry the tiara from my cold, dead, perfectly manicured hands.
“Here’s your mark, Dakota.” Phil points down at the piece of blue tape on the floor. “Start here and come back to here.”
“Got it.”
“Sparks, please,” Phil pleads. “Quiet in the shot.”
When I open the front door, Leo looks up. My heart forgets its purpose for a moment before it ka-thuds back into rhythm.
“You look ah-mazing,” I gush.
Leo’s sweet smile turns into The Full Dimple. I know Jordan is on full zoom. Because I would. That’s some good TV right there, I’m tellin’ ya.
“These are for you.” Leo holds out the long, white box. He opens it so the folks watching at home can see that it contains a bouquet of sixteen blush-pink, long-stemmed roses. “Happy Birthday, Dakota.”
Leo’s hands are vibrating, so I put my hand over the top of his to steady the box. “Thank you, Leo.”
When I step back to let him through the door, Leo grabs my hand. I lead him to the blue tape. At the designated mark, Stephanie stealthily leans in to collect the flowers.
“You look … wow … like a princess.” Leo twirls me around. The Full Dimple doesn’t disappear.
“Yeah, I’m not giving this tiara back. Pretty sure I’m wearing it to school on Monday. Nevaeh and I are going to start a new fashion trend.”
“And cut,” Phil says.
“Once more from the top?” I say.
“No, that was perfect. Now that had a spark. Keep up the good work.” Phil checks his phone. “The limo will be here in five. We’ll do some footage of that and then meet you at the venue.”
“Wait. Where’s Aurora?” Leo pulls his phone out of his pocket with his free hand. “We can’t leave without her.”
“We can and we will. Sorry. The live, pre-episode teasers begin at four thirty, whether we are ready or not.”
“Your mom texted that they are running behind schedule, so Sasha will drop Aurora off at Chez Versailles,” Stephanie says, the flower box still tucked under her arm.
Leo’s eyebrows furrow.
“Don’t worry.” I squeeze Leo’s hand. “The party officially ends at eleven, but we have the limo until one. You. Me. Aurora. Jayden. Nevaeh. And as many JCC peeps as we can cram in. We’ll get burgers from In-N-Out or go wherever Aurora wants.”
“Well, that won’t completely go to her head,” Leo jokes.
“Want a root beer while we wait for the limo?” I say as the crew heads out the front door to set up.
“Only water in that dress, Dakota
,” Stephanie says as she follows after them.
“Water is fine for me too,” Leo says.
When I turn to leave, Leo stays attached to my hand. I stop. “You okay?”
“I’m worried about Ojiichan.”
“Yeah, me too.” I squeeze Leo’s hand. “Want to send him a full-length shot of you? ’Cuz, when I opened the door, I was like, ‘Who is this guy and what did he do with my best friend?’”
Leo genuinely laughs. “You have to be in the picture too.”
A warmth spreads in my chest as Leo reaches out to caress my hair. At least until he says, “Is this your real hair?”
“Yes. Well, part of it is at least.”
“Aurora is going to be so jelly.” Leo looks at his phone. “Why won’t she text me back?”
“You get some water.” I let go of Leo’s hand. “I think I left my phone upstairs in my purse. Be back in a sec.”
I swoosh up the stairs to find my retro, beaded purse, courtesy of my mom’s closet. I pull my phone out and see I have a series of texts from Aurora. My heart sinks into my stomach as I read through them. The last one has an emphatic plea.
AURORA
Please, Koty. Don’t say anything to Leo. There is absolutely nothing that he can do about it. Let him have a night to remember. If we go to the ER, I’ll let you know. Until then, tell Leo Ojiichan has an intestinal bug.
ME
That’s a lie.
AURORA
No, it’s me giving you bad information. I’m still coming to the party. I promise!
“Dakota, the limo is here,” Dad yells up the stairs.
Though my heart is torn, I plaster on a smile. Things get a little easier when I find Leo and Dad standing near the front door together, sharing a joke and a selfie.
“You ready?” Leo says to me.
“Yeah.” I can’t lie to Leo, so I give him the part of the truth that I don’t feel icky about. “Aurora texted. She’ll be there soon.”
Leo shakes his head. “Aurora and her twenty-seven-step beauty routine.”
“Wait. Let me fix this.” Dad adjusts Leo’s rose-gold bow tie. “I’m so glad you’re sharing this day with us, Leo. Don’t get me wrong, Alex is a nice guy, but I’m glad you’re the one helping us end this chapter in our history. The Matsudas have been such an important part of our journey. You. Your parents. Your sisters. Your grandfather. All so special to us. Don’t know what we’d do without you guys.”
Dad gets misty, and this is a one-two punch to my gut. Tears well up in my eyes. Real ones.
“I’ll be outside.” Dad quickly beats a retreat out the front door.
“Phil’s missing out.” I flap my hands in front of my eyes to dry them. “Look, Dakota McDonald has emotions. Who knew?”
“I knew, you giant marshmallow.” Leo pulls me into a side hug. My tiara stabs him in the head. “Ow. You are a danger to others tonight.”
I sniff and bounce on the balls of my feet, trying to pull my armor back on. “I will not cry on live TV. I will not.”
“I will not pass out on live TV. I will not.” Leo mimics me before putting out his elbow. “How long do you think Phil would let us live if we did like a shuffle or disco arms or something goofy down the sidewalk to the limo?”
I shrug. “He’s the one who insisted on some sparks.”
Phil nods as Leo and I promenade out the front door and down the front steps to the sidewalk. His jaw drops when Leo and I suddenly turn to face each other, do-si-do, and chassé hand in hand all the way to the limo. When the driver opens the limo’s door, Leo twirls me around like a ballerina and dips me back. Leo pauses, looking at my lips. My eyes instinctively close when Leo leans in. I’ll admit it. I’m as disappointed as viewers are going to be that Leo only kisses my cheek.
Chapter
30
The limo driver rolls down the partition when we arrive at Chez Versailles. Toby, aka Break-Dakota’s-Fall Guy, sits next to the driver.
“Phil says to stay put,” Toby says over his shoulder. “They’ll have the live feed up in a moment. Also, he says absolutely no more square dancing.”
“Square dancing is so thirty minutes ago. How about the robot?” Leo illustrates his choice. “Or like, one, two, three—bam, mic drop?”
“Speaking of mics.” Toby holds out a small silver box, and Leo reluctantly retrieves it. Inside are two small lapel microphones. “Hide Leo’s beside his boutonniere. Yours is going to have to go … um, yeah.”
I cram the mic down my cleavage and clip it to my bra. I pull the fabric back up and adjust The Girls. Leo cringes.
I shrug. “Where else am I supposed to put it?”
“I feel like a secret agent with this on.” Leo picks up the corner of his lapel and drops his voice deep. “I have eyes on the package. Cover me. I’m going in.”
“Hey.” Toby waves frantically at us. “Your mics are hot.”
Leo gulps.
“Get ready for the door to open,” Toby says as the divider rolls up.
There is a quick knock-knock before the driver opens the door. I hope they have Leo’s mic turned down, so viewers don’t hear his gasp for air. Or mine, when I slide out of the limo to find that HGTV asked—or maybe straight-up paid—a bunch of people I vaguely recognize from school to show up early with signs and balloons and bubbles. Phil gives us a halt sign. Leo anchors himself to the rose-gold carpet leading into the venue. I hit a rose-gold-carpet pose and then a second version as people—including people way too old to be partygoers—take our picture. Leo wavers a little, but he stays on his feet. Phil gives us the signal to proceed.
Leo continues to crush my hand as we walk into Chez Versailles.
“Happy Birthday, Dakota.” I’m sure Phil has ordered the camera to zoom in tight on Mom’s glistening eyes as we join my parents.
“Hot dam!” Dad says.
Viewers get a special treat along with their bingo square for Dad’s catchphrase. Tonight—for one night only—the HOT DAM! beaver is wearing a tiara on the screen instead of a hardhat.
My parents smother Leo and me in a group hug.
“And, we’re out,” Phil says. “In twelve minutes, we do the cake spot. Warning: Mics will remain hot.”
Jordan lowers his camera, but my parents don’t let go of us. Like for thirty seconds. It’s getting awkward, even for me.
“Guys. Love you, but you need to get out of my bubble,” I say from inside Mom’s rib-crushing hug.
Mom breaks the McDonald huddle. “We’ll leave you to your friends.”
As my parents walk away, Nevaeh, Jax, and all of our JCC peeps crush in. Well, except for one. Leo cranes his head looking for Lindsay.
“Does our Cinnamon Roll Prince clean up nice or what?” Nevaeh loops their finger around until Leo turns in a tight circle for them.
Egged on by Nevaeh and our JCC peeps, Leo does a few male model poses until he cracks up.
“Group selfie!” Leo digs his phone out of his pocket, and we all crowd in.
“Give me your phone.” I put my purse, with my phone still tucked inside, next to the marble fountain that we start posing on. “You and Nevaeh first.”
Stephanie rushes by with her clipboard. “Leo Matsuda, you fall in that fountain, and I will kill you with my own bare hands.”
Leo hops down, but Nevaeh continues to walk on the edge. As they always do.
I thought Jax wanted to be next in line for a picture, but when he gets to Leo, he says, “I have a surprise for you. Look who was able to come after all.”
The small crowd parts, and Lindsay walks through it. A conflicted smile crosses Leo’s face. My heart ices over.
“My parents are still mad at us, but they reconsidered about tonight.” Lindsay hugs Leo before turning to me. “Happy Birthday, Dakota.”
“I’m glad you were able to come,” I say, though I step backward to avoid her hug. “Thanks for letting me borrow Leo. I’ll give him back to you soon.”
“Give him back?” Leo says w
ith a strained laugh.
“We’re walking. We’re walking.” Phil swoops in behind us and herds Leo and me toward the smaller of the two ballrooms. “We start filming in ten seconds.”
“Oh wow!” Leo picks up one of the hundreds of dainty pastries and confections filling the room. “Wait till Sasha sees this.”
“Speaking of Sasha.” Mom walks into frame carrying a lacquerware tray that I’m pretty sure came from the Matsudas’ house. Mom places it on the only open spot on the table. “She sent over a special gift for your party, Dakota.”
I look down at the steering-wheel-sized tray filled with a fluffle of manju rabbits. A couple of them perch up on the side of the tray, holding a tiny banner written in Japanese. Mom steps to the right so that Jordan can get a close-up.
“Can you read it?” Mom says, and I lean in closer.
“O-something-something-way-above-my-kanji-knowledge omedetō gozaimasu.” I look at Leo for help. “I’m guessing that says Happy Birthday?”
“Yes. Otanjōbi omedetō gozaimasu,” Leo says, and then makes me repeat after him to “make Iwate-sensei proud.”
“I will forgive you, Sasha, for impaling these poor bunnies in the name of art.”
Phil stands behind Jordan. He holds up his clipboard and points emphatically at it. It has the sponsor’s name scribbled out in huge letters.
“Look at all these macarons and cannoli. I’m not sure what this chocolate work of art is, but I’m going to have one later. Sweet Lil Something Bakery has outdone themselves.”
I follow Mom past the chocolate fountain over to a five-tier cake that would eclipse most people’s wedding cakes. The bottom layer has a bunch of rose-gold ribbons coming out of it.
“What are these?” I say, genuinely surprised. I was there the day we taste-tested Sweet Lil Something Bakery’s cakes. We had so many that I almost barfed in the car on the way home. But we didn’t talk about this.
“Everyone has been so generous to us that we wanted to share the love.” Mom steps back into frame. She has a pile of gold paper wristbands in her hand. “Twenty-five lucky party-goers will get to pull a ribbon that has a number charm attached to it. Whatever number they draw is the order in which they get to make a trip to the prize table.”
Faking Reality Page 27