conversations are exhausting. I’m going to be a terrible adult. I already have existential crises every other year, and I’m not even eighteen yet.
February 26 th , 7:30am—Pink Palm Motel
I’d totally planned to sleep in, but my phone started ringing at seven in the morning. I woke up in a panic and answered without checking the Caller ID, hoping it’d be Keller.
“Hello?” I said in my best sexy voice. I’ve been practicing my sexy voice a lot lately. Most of time, it sounds like I’m recovering from strep throat. Instead of Keller’s naturally sexy voice, I got an earful of Meredith and Amanda screaming.
“Whoa, whoa,” I said, still groggy from sleep and disappointed it wasn’t an early morning call from Keller. “Slow down, what’s going on?”
“Have you seen US Weekly ?” Amanda demanded.
“No, I guess my maid forgot to deliver it with breakfast,” I said. “What’s the big deal? Did Amanda Bynes get arrested again?”
“Would you mind explaining why you’re in US Weekly with Serena Salazar?” Meredith shouted.
I totally forgot about the paparazzi on Rodeo Drive. I guess I thought nothing would come of the photos, since we weren’t doing anything interesting. I forgot magazines publish photos of celebrities grocery shopping and walking around in flip-flops with captions that say, “Stars are just like you! They wear rubber shoes!” I sat upright.
“Why didn’t you tell us you knew Serena Salazar?” Amanda asked in her very serious voice, the same voice she uses to lecture judgmental senior citizens who glare at her and Meredith when they hold hands on Main Street.
“I’m sorry. I guess it slipped my mind.”
“How could it slip your mind? She’s like, a huge celebrity.”
“Amanda, you don’t even like Serena Salazar; you only like The Wonder Years,” I said.
“She’s right,” I heard Meredith say.
Amanda started arguing with Meredith about how she doesn’t only like one band, and I had to shout over them. “Look, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you. She’s a normal, fun girl, and I kind of forgot she was famous.”
“That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard,” Amanda said.
“Says the girl who genuinely believes she’s going to marry Tay Jardine,” Meredith replied.
“Who invited Little Miss Sassy?” Amanda mumbled.
They started arguing again right as my mom walked into the room with her Chia Pet cradled in the crook of her arm. “Are you getting ready? We’re leaving in half an hour.”
“Guys, I need to go,” I shouted over their bickering. I had to hang up on them, which I seem to be doing a lot. They argue a lot; I hope they’re doing okay. I’m usually their counselor, but it’s hard to counsel from the West Coast.
Time to take my allergy pills and head over to the shop.
Later, 7:30pm—Buds of Love
I’ve never sneezed so much in one day. The grand opening of Buds of Love went amazingly, and there was an army of flowers present. It was wall-to-wall snapdragons, daffodils, sunflowers, roses, hydrangeas, geraniums, and just about everything else with petals. Also, I don’t know how my mom managed to get every single hippie in LA to show up, but she did.
My mom’s small staff was struggling to take care of every customer. Zara, the store manager, looked like she was going to start ripping heads off at one point. Zara is like an Amazonian warrior. She has long, sleek black hair that swishes back and forth past her butt when she walks. Her skin is dark and beautiful, and her biceps are surprisingly large for a girl as thin as she is.
I was standing in the middle of a sea of hippies, holding my breath because apparently they believe in deodorant about as much as they believe in shopping at Wal-Mart, when I saw Lacey standing in the doorframe with her fingers pinching her nose shut.
“Lacey?” I asked, astonished.
Her head turned toward me, and she waved with her free hand. Grayson appeared in the door by her
February 26 th , 7:30am—Pink Palm Motel
I’d totally planned to sleep in, but my phone started ringing at seven in the morning. I woke up in a panic and answered without checking the Caller ID, hoping it’d be Keller.
“Hello?” I said in my best sexy voice. I’ve been practicing my sexy voice a lot lately. Most of time, it sounds like I’m recovering from strep throat. Instead of Keller’s naturally sexy voice, I got an earful of Meredith and Amanda screaming.
“Whoa, whoa,” I said, still groggy from sleep and disappointed it wasn’t an early morning call from Keller. “Slow down, what’s going on?”
“Have you seen US Weekly ?” Amanda demanded.
“No, I guess my maid forgot to deliver it with breakfast,” I said. “What’s the big deal? Did Amanda Bynes get arrested again?”
“Would you mind explaining why you’re in US Weekly with Serena Salazar?” Meredith shouted.
I totally forgot about the paparazzi on Rodeo Drive. I guess I thought nothing would come of the photos, since we weren’t doing anything interesting. I forgot magazines publish photos of celebrities grocery shopping and walking around in flip-flops with captions that say, “Stars are just like you! They wear rubber shoes!” I sat upright.
“Why didn’t you tell us you knew Serena Salazar?” Amanda asked in her very serious voice, the same voice she uses to lecture judgmental senior citizens who glare at her and Meredith when they hold hands on Main Street.
“I’m sorry. I guess it slipped my mind.”
“How could it slip your mind? She’s like, a huge celebrity.”
“Amanda, you don’t even like Serena Salazar; you only like The Wonder Years,” I said.
“She’s right,” I heard Meredith say.
Amanda started arguing with Meredith about how she doesn’t only like one band, and I had to shout over them. “Look, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you. She’s a normal, fun girl, and I kind of forgot she was famous.”
“That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard,” Amanda said.
“Says the girl who genuinely believes she’s going to marry Tay Jardine,” Meredith replied.
“Who invited Little Miss Sassy?” Amanda mumbled.
They started arguing again right as my mom walked into the room with her Chia Pet cradled in the crook of her arm. “Are you getting ready? We’re leaving in half an hour.”
“Guys, I need to go,” I shouted over their bickering. I had to hang up on them, which I seem to be doing a lot. They argue a lot; I hope they’re doing okay. I’m usually their counselor, but it’s hard to counsel from the West Coast.
Time to take my allergy pills and head over to the shop.
Later, 7:30pm—Buds of Love
I’ve never sneezed so much in one day. The grand opening of Buds of Love went amazingly, and there was an army of flowers present. It was wall-to-wall snapdragons, daffodils, sunflowers, roses, hydrangeas, geraniums, and just about everything else with petals. Also, I don’t know how my mom managed to get every single hippie in LA to show up, but she did.
My mom’s small staff was struggling to take care of every customer. Zara, the store manager, looked like she was going to start ripping heads off at one point. Zara is like an Amazonian warrior. She has long, sleek black hair that swishes back and forth past her butt when she walks. Her skin is dark and beautiful, and her biceps are surprisingly large for a girl as thin as she is.
I was standing in the middle of a sea of hippies, holding my breath because apparently they believe in deodorant about as much as they believe in shopping at Wal-Mart, when I saw Lacey standing in the doorframe with her fingers pinching her nose shut.
“Lacey?” I asked, astonished.
Her head turned toward me, and she waved with her free hand. Grayson appeared in the door by her
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