Bentley: Our FunFit boxes came in today. Check out my new socks.
[Bentley holds up a pair of blue socks with pizzas patterned on them.]
Shailene: You mean my new socks.
[Cut to Shailene and Bentley watching TV with Scout squeezed between the two of them, Shailene’s pizza socks prominently displayed.]
Shailene: All right, y’all, use code SHAILENE at checkout for an extra 15 percent off your first month of FunFit box and get your own perfect workout socks.
Bentley: Maybe order two.
[Bentley props his feet up on the coffee table to show off his own pizza socks. Shailene shrugs.]
Shailene: Or three.
[She shows off Scout’s pizza socks.]
[Click here link leading to FunFit box sign up.]
9
Ocean Avenue
The irony—if that’s what you want to call it—is I don’t sleep at all. I get up when Rikki does at 6 a.m. after tossing and turning for two hours. There’s a cocktail party scheduled for that night, and some of the girls are trying to get a little extra sleep. I know it’s a futile effort, but I especially admire Kendall for trying. Girl knows what she wants.
Rikki starts making me pancakes without prompting, and I immediately grow suspicious.
“So,” I say, innocently grabbing an almost-bad banana up from the counter and peeling it back. “What did they say about me last night?”
Rikki doesn’t look at me as she mixes the batter. “Everyone thinks Marcus likes you.”
“Oh, so they were extra nice?” I ask, making my words syrupy sweet. “C’mon, Rikki, I’m a grown woman.”
She cuts some butter off of a stick and throws it onto a griddle. It starts sizzling. “They asked if we thought you were unstable,” Rikki finally says.
I take that in for a moment. “And what did everyone say?”
“I don’t know. Some of the girls thought the whole thing with Aliana was weird, since you don’t even appear to like her.”
“Never going to live that one down, am I?”
“Kendall says you’re just bad with people.”
I bite my lip, tapping my nails against the counter. “What do you think she means by that?”
Rikki gives me a long look before she answers. “Do you think you’re good with people?” She flips a pancake.
“Obviously not,” I say, sighing and putting my face into my palm, leaning against the counter.
We both go silent as we hear someone coming through the house, whistling. Sounds like a cameraman is following, always following, always there.
“Good morning, ladies,” Henry says with a cruelly devastating smile as he comes into the kitchen.
“Someone slept last night,” Rikki answers, putting a pancake on a plate for me.
“Four whole hours,” Henry answers triumphantly. “And there’s an extra fifteen minutes of private time with Marcus for you if you make me a pancake.”
Rikki says, “Deal,” and goes back to cooking. Henry sits down and nudges my arm. I look over at him, not so subtly grinding my teeth. He knows.
“I heard you wanted to see me,” Henry says. “I’m here.”
“I’m going to finish my pancakes by the pool,” I say, grabbing up my plate. Henry watches me go, his face carefully controlled.
As I close the door behind me, I don’t miss his sigh. “Jac!” he calls, finally coming after me as I make my way over to the pool. I sit down, dipping my feet in. He stands there next to me in his black Nikes with gold detailing as I eat, staring straight ahead.
“What did you expect to happen?” he asks. “We were on camera.”
I chew.
“That’s what this is, Jac. If we can’t get through that rock-solid shell of yours, we have to make moments happen. We want the audience to see you.”
“I don’t want to be seen,” I finally say.
He laughs. “Then you picked a really shitty midlife crisis to have.”
“Midlife? You guys really are ready to ship me off in a coffin for daring to be over thirty, aren’t you?”
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, crouching down next to me. Up close, his dark eyes are on mine, and I wonder who he is. I wonder where he slept last night, back in his Venice bachelor pad or nearby. I wonder who he slept with. “Marcus is coming to the house today. Pool party before he sends people home.”
