“You guys totally hooked up,” Olive says.
“It was only a kiss.” I leave them in the entryway and head to the primary bathroom to get rid of all this extra makeup. They follow me.
“That look was loaded,” she argues. “His eyes were saying way more thanI want to kiss this chick again.”
“Yeah,” I agree, pulling out all the wig clips and making a pile. “Probably something likeWhat are your sisters doing here? They’re going to bring tons of attention with them.”
Olive has the grace to look hurt. “I told you we’d use Dash’s plane.”
“No one followed us, B,” Zoey agrees, leaning against the counter and watching me.
“Then explain how I’ve completely flown under the radar here for weeks, but tonight we were attacked by paparazzi whenwe got to Benny’s truck. They were camped out in the parking lot.” I think back to Peter’s story about Sierra and the people with cameras on the beach. “They might have been staking out the beach all day.”
“If they followed us, they couldn’t have done that. We’ve only been here for, like, twenty minutes.” Olive walks through the open doorway between the bedroom and bathroom and sits on the edge of the bed. I can see her through the mirror as I take off my wig. She’s analyzing my face. “You don’t look like you at all. It’s kind of creepy.”
“It’s called a disguise, and it’s been working really well.”
Her brow furrows.
Zoey crosses her arms over her chest. She’s in a matching magenta jersey set and white tennis shoes. Her long dark hair is slicked back into a ponytail, and she has big gold hoops in. “Someone else must have tipped them off.”
“I didn’t tell anyone where I was, and you’re the only person I told about Benny.”
“You told Zo but not me?” Olive says. “Ouch.”
I ignore her, peeling off the wig and wig cap, then running my nails all over my scalp and tossing my kinky hair into a messy bun.
“Who has Benny told?” Zoey asks.
Nancy pops in my head, but the woman would sooner bowl down a group of paps than tip them off…wouldn’t she? I don’t actually know Colby, but I’m staying in his house. Doesn’t that grant me certain legal rights? I don’t know. My brain is mush, and I hate that I still feel like I should be able to trust this family whensomeonehas let me down.
“Who?” Zoey presses.
“Just his grandma—whom I told you about—and his cousin, who owns this house. Honestly, it could have been me.” The sound of tires crunching across gravel runs through my mind. Orthere was the teenage girl who saw me walking down the street. I squirt face wash into my palm and turn on the warm water. “I told Benny about some of the things that went down between Jaida and I earlier, and we didn’t know someone else was around the corner. But they left. We heard their car leave. If that person was eavesdropping, wouldn’t they have stuck around?”
“Not if they heard all they needed to.” Olive pulls out her phone and scrolls. “I don’t see any photos online yet, so right now you’re safe.”
“Kind of,” Zoey mutters.
Olive shoots her a look. I catch it in the mirror right before I lower my face to the sink to wash off all the makeup. Once I’m free and my skin is clear, I pat it dry and rub on moisturizer. “You need to explain.”
“Well, it’s kind of why we’re here. You should probably sit down, though.”
And here I thought my sisters had flown across the country to offer their support. Part of me was grateful to see them on Benny’s porch, glad to have them join my little bubble of incognito and bliss. But the logical side of my brain saw their arrival for what it really is—a wrench in the spokes. This is going to change everything. Even fully disguised, there’s no way the three of us can go anywhere without being spotted.
The jig is finally up.
Given all the flashes and photographers in the parking lot earlier, it has been for at least the last few hours.
Once I’m out of hair and makeup, I throw on a pair of sweats and my Bodega Bay hoodie. We all climb onto my oversized bed, and my sisters watch me like a feral cat they’re trying to corral into a crate.
“I know you wanted to be left alone,” Olive says, pushing her over-processed hair behind her shoulder. She’s been going lighter and lighter, and if she isn’t careful, soon it’s going to bewhite. “But Lucy has done a few jobs for me ever since you went AWOL?—”
“How is she?” I miss my makeup artist almost more than everyone else combined. She’s a master.
“Fine. She’s not mad at you, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
My shoulders relax, and I lean back against the headboard.