Good for You (8 page)

Chapter 15

REID

The paparazzi swarm has bal ooned. George is fielding hourly cal s from journalists proposing in-depth, exclusive, one-on-one reporting of my rehabilitation. We both know they’re far more interested in digging up juicy info about my possible hookup with a member of the peasantry.

I wasn’t shocked when Dori didn’t show up yesterday, between our little interface in the bathroom and the fact that my fansites were going crazy over photos of the two of us looking like we’re making out in the back yard. I’m accustomed to groundless rumors and misinterpreted photos. You have to laugh that shit off or you could end up in handcuffs after decking some asshole photographer or stalker weirdo… or turn into a recluse, hiding from public scrutiny.

Stil , I was sure Dori would bounce in today, sporting a tshirt proclaiming her loathing of some vice I’ve reveled in at one time or another, if not on a regular basis. But Roberta just told me she won’t be back until next week.

“Was she that shaken up by al the photos online…?” I gesture vaguely to the surrounding yards ful of photographers after grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler. What I don’t say:
Or was it the attempted kiss that
freaked her the hell out?

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Roberta frowns, uncertain. “She’s working with her church’s VBS program, and they needed her this week.”

“VBS?”

Roberta looks at me like I’m an alien because I don’t recognize the acronym. “Vacation Bible School?” she prompts.

No help. Those three words don’t go together in any way in my experience. “So what’s she doing there that’s so important?” I twist the cap off the bottle and drink as we move towards the line for lunch.

“Actual y, she co-wrote the musical portion of the parent night program with the music director, and she’s in charge of the kindergarten performance.” Roberta’s obviously proud of this accomplishment, but it’s out of my sphere.

Church musical programs are the lowest form of community theater imaginable. Directing a religious musical program for five-year-olds? Kil me first.

“Wow. That’s awesome.” (Seriously. Kil me first.)

“Hi, Reid.”

Ah, Gabriel e. Just the distraction I need. “Sitting with me today?” I say, smiling down at her. She must have forgiven me for that comment about wanting nothing to do with her.

Gabriel e tosses a look of defiance at Roberta before smiling and poking me in the chest. “Duh, that’s why I came over here.”

Roberta purses her lips, wracking her brain to come up with a reason why the two of us can’t fraternize at lunch.

When she comes up blank, I pretend not to notice.

*** *** ***

Dori

Three days with no Reid, and I am so
not
conquering that temptation. I’ve alternated between wondering if he caused any trouble in my absence and wondering if he was disappointed that I wasn’t there—if he noticed at al .

Tonight, in the privacy of my room, and in opposition to any good judgment I’ve ever thought I had, I google Reid Alexander. First up: the sil y photos of the two of us, with me sprawled atop him like a linebacker sacking a quarterback.

There’s rampant speculation online about who I am, and whether or not I’m something more than just an uncoordinated girl from his volunteer site (I grit my teeth

—
volunteer
, my eye). His fans are also debating what we’re
doing
in the photo, but we had more than enough eyewitnesses, so real y, the worst anyone could say is that I stupidly fel on him. Or, as Kayla and Aimee think, bril iantly fel on him.

The majority view is that I’m a plain, unattractive nobody

—stated more harshly in most cases. I shrug it off because on one hand I
am
a plain, unattractive nobody, and on the other hand, none of these people know me personal y. They al base their verdicts on the same thing: what I look like in relation to him. Their assessments are superficial and excessive. Pretty similar to their appraisals of him, actual y

—based on little more than circumstantial evidence. (In his case, circumstantial y
appealing
.) I ignore further editorials and fan comments and go straight for the images link, because image is what Reid Alexander is al about. His beautiful face. His lean, muscular body. The blatant sex appeal that wel s up from that inner confidence and projects itself to the camera. I click on a cache of photos from a year-old GQ spread. He graces the cover shot and several outtakes in a dark pinstripe suit which was, I’m sure, precisely tailored for him and insanely expensive. He wears nothing but jeans in several shots, low enough to show off his chiseled abs. His chest and arms are defined and flawless without aid of computer graphics, as I know from multiple close-range shirtless encounters.

I click the arrow and the next photo appears—a mesmerizing close-up. My stomach drops and I exhale a dazed, “
Oh
.” Wearing a black tank, he grasps a tree branch angled just overhead. In the other shots, his expression is expertly arrogant—identical to his standard, now familiar veneer. But this one is the opposite. Open. Affectionate.

Sensitive.

I snap my laptop closed.

Googling him was a very bad idea.

Chapter 16

REID

I’m supposed to start filming in less than two months. Since I locked up the lead role by convincing the production team and the director that I could beef up
and
do the stunts, I can’t just be in decent shape. I have to be in prime form. My personal trainer commences the torture sessions tomorrow morning, so tonight ends early.

Which sucks because I’m out with my friend Tadd, a costar from
School Pride
, and he’s going back home to Chicago tomorrow. We meet for dinner and end up at the bar in his hotel after.

“Seen anyone since May?” he asks once the waitress, who’s trying her damnedest to act like she doesn’t know who the two of us are, leaves our drinks.

“Partied with Quinton once, and ran into Jenna at an awards show last month. She’s looking pretty hot.” Tadd pauses, his dirty martini halfway to his lips. “Dude, Jenna’s like sixteen.”

“God, what the hel is it with everyone and the underage girl alert? I’m
aware
, okay?” I sigh, running a hand through my hair and reining in my temper. In light of the whole Gabriel e-Dori issue, I may be overreacting a bit.

“Chil , dude—I’m not accusing you of anything.” Tadd leans up, elbows on the table. “I know you’re smarter than that.” He smirks. “As much of an asstard as you are in other matters.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Emma, right?”

“I was referring to the fact that you wrecked your car and almost kil ed yourself… but yeah, man, you screwed up your love life, too.”

We’re silent for a minute, and I know he’s waiting for me to ask what he knows I’m going to ask. “Have you seen her?”

He leans back, gives me a once-over like he’s gauging how much I can take. “We got together a couple of weeks ago in New York. She’s starting NYU in a few weeks, but she moved there last month. She and Graham, uh, didn’t want to be apart al summer.”

I imagine the two of them together, waiting to feel wounded, but it’s not real y there. “So that whole thing is working out, I guess.”

“So far, yeah.” Tadd takes a sip of the martini, checking my reaction through the pale fringe of a hair hanging perpetual y over his right eye. “I met up with both of them, actual y. They seem comfortable—like, they
fit
, you know? I can shut up now.”

I shrug and shake my head. “No. I’m glad she’s happy.” Surprisingly, I realize I mean it. “So what about you, lover boy? Getting any from a regular source, or stil breaking hearts and bal s al over the country?”

Tadd leans up again, his face earnest. “Dude, I met someone a month ago, and I’m so in love it’s not even funny. I’m like head over heels, first time ever. It’s
sick
.”

“Al right, Thaddeus.” I put up my fist and he bumps it with his, beaming. “So who is he?” I lean up. “Are you about to out somebody? Cause if so, you know you can trust me.”

“Nah, he’s an architect. So damned smart it blows my mind. Creative, gorgeous, funny, sexy…” He’s lost in his own thoughts for a couple of seconds.

“Okay, okay, stop or I’m gonna have to consider going gay, man,” I say, and he laughs.

“Dude—it’s al we can do to keep our hands off of each other in public. It’s always felt a little daring—al the covert stuff.” He shrugs. “I’ve never felt like this before. I want to hold his hand when we’re walking, or brush the hair out of his eyes when he’s got coffee in one hand and the dog’s leash in the other.” His mouth quirks up on one side again as he stares into his drink. “It’s different when you’re in love.”

I think of al of the things I take for granted. I could grab a stranger, kiss her in public, and the worst anyone wil think or say is
get a room
. Tadd’s in love, but they can’t hold hands in most public places without worrying what someone might do or say.

“Sucks to be you, man,” I say, and he makes like he’s gonna punch me in the arm. I flinch and spil part of my drink on the table. “Dude!”

We’re both laughing when he says, “So what about you?

We’re both laughing when he says, “So what about you?

Anybody new?”

I shake my head. “You don’t even want to know.”

“Oh?” Both eyebrows angle up as he leans closer. “Oh, yes I do. I
so
do. Lay it on me, man. Is it that girl from the Habitat place?”

Damned paparazzi. “That was just a clumsy girl fal ing off of a patio.”

Out of nowhere I remember the fruit fal ing from the sky, so surreal. The feel of her in my arms as I caught her. Her face flaming as she struggled to move off of me. I almost made a smartass comment about her lack of grace, but she was already so humiliated that I couldn’t do it. I fol owed her inside instead.

I don’t know what I expected. I sure didn’t expect to try to kiss her—that was completely spontaneous. When she ran her fingers across my scalp to search for stray bits of fruit, I had a sharp, three-second vision of her lying under me in my bed, her hands thrusting into my hair as I lean down to kiss her...

“Earth to Reid.” Tadd’s voice is pure cynicism. I blink and look up and he shakes his head slowly. “Oh, yeah.

There’s nothing going on
there
. Not at al .” Busted. “Yeah, wel , she’s not the slightest bit into me. I tried to kiss her and she objected in a
resounding
no-means-no sort of way. And then disappeared for the rest of the week.”

Tadd smiles and holds his drink aloft towards me.

“Here’s to chal enges, dude.”

My friend may have a point. Maybe Dori’s just playing hard-to-get better than any girl I’ve ever met, and I’ve just gotten lazy.

Dori, one. Reid, zero.

But not for long.

*** *** ***

Dori

Nick and I were planning to hang out tonight, but he’d forgotten his promise to watch his foster brothers while his parents take his foster sister to San Diego for a supervised visit with her birth mother. I assured him several times that I understood completely and was fine with the late cancel ation.

Mom and Dad are out with friends. “Wel , Esther, it’s just you and me tonight,” I tel her, scratching gently behind her floppy spaniel ears, which are the only spaniel component on her. The rest of her is a curious mix of—as far as we can tel —golden retriever, shepherd, and possibly dachshund.

She’s a true mutt. “Let’s make sandwiches.” I pul ingredients out of the fridge and pantry, and rol slices of deli turkey for her. Her tail tick-tocks gently side to side as I set the plate in front of her. “Need a pickle with that? No?” I ask as she gingerly lifts each rol and gobbles it down.

She lies next to me on the sofa (an Esther no-no she gets away with when we’re alone) while I eat my pita sandwich and scrol through network TV options. Nothing looks interesting, so I browse the pay-per-view selections.

I’m in the mood for something cute. No slashers, no thril ers, no buddy flicks. No historical drama or redemption-through-pain-and-or-suffering films. Especial y nothing that says
profoundly moving
or
grab a hankie!
in the description.

“Here we go, Esther: ‘Trey begins his senior year at a new school with girls swooning for him, and jocks as friends. Things get complicated when he fal s for quiet, bookish Amanda, who becomes a social pariah after she rats out the footbal players’ cheating ring, half the first string fails English, and the team loses the big championship game.’”

Esther turns on her side and lays her head on my leg. “I think we have a winner.” I click
buy
, press the play button and grab a handful of popcorn, thinking that I should be sad that Nick had to bail on me. That I didn’t have time to make plans with anyone else. That I’m spending my Saturday night alone. But I’m fine. I’m more than fine.

The movie is everything I hoped for. Until about ten minutes in… when one of the random jocks turns out to be Reid. I gasp, and Esther raises her head sharply and looks at me, and then swivels around, looking for the unknown menace.

I should have looked up his filmography on IMDb last night. Al I real y know of him are his last two, more major roles. This movie is almost three years old.

His role is minor, and he spends most of his onscreen time in the background, but once I recognize him, I’m either watching him or waiting for him to show up again. The movie is an hour and fifty-seven minutes long, but it takes me nearly twice that to get al the way through it because I’m rewinding and replaying every moment he’s onscreen.

In one party scene, several couples are in various states of making out. I spot Reid on the left side of the screen, sitting in a chair, kissing one of the cheerleader characters, who’s straddling him. Their mouths are fused, but I watch his hands—gripping her arms, sliding down to the smal of her back, holding her like he held me when I fel on him. I rewind the scene and watch it a third time.

“Oh, fudge,” I whisper, and Esther looks at me and sighs.