‘It’s fine,’ Mae said, cutting her off. ‘You had to be getting on, getting famous and everything.’ She sniffed. ‘Good for you. You always wanted that.’
Callie, terrified and apologetic to a near-fatal degree up to this point, suddenly didn’t look quite so breakable. In fact, she looked downright irritated.
‘That wasn’texactlywhat I wanted.’
Mae paused, unsettled by the reminder that no, that actually wasn’t true. It was only later, after Callie had begun appearing on her radar as a reality TV contestant, that Mae had convinced herself Callie was just a fame-hungry opportunist with an emotional hole at her centre. Kind of like a doughnut.
Callie reset herself. ‘It looks good here,’ she said quietly. ‘You’ve done…’ She stopped herself, wary of pressing too far. ‘Your dad would be proud.’
The words hit with surgical accuracy. Mae’s temper flamed. ‘You’ve not been here to see it,’ she said. ‘So you don’tknowwhat he’d be.’
Callie flinched. And then she looked at the camera. ‘Cut.’
‘Callie…’ Neil protested, pained. ‘I thought we understood that onlyI—’
But Callie ignored him, pressing a hand over the boom above their heads. ‘Maybe we could talk about this properly. Not like this.’
Mae was surprised. More than surprised, actually. Shocked shitless, she might have said. But it didn’t change anything. None of this did.
Mae looked her square in the eye and said something absolutely designed to cut Callie down to size. Because what else did Callie really deserve?
‘What is there to say?’
Callie’s eyes flashed hurt.
Neil didn’t notice. ‘Right, I guess I can probably cut something from that. Can we move on?’
Mae truly hoped so.
Back Then
Mae hadn’t meant to look straight at Callie’s face. She’d been doing rather well avoiding it, looking at anything that wasn’t those dark eyes fixed on her like she was a locked box Callie intended to prise open.
‘Mae. Please. What’s goingon? Did I… have I done something? Are you upset with me?’
‘No,’ she said. It wasn’t really a lie, because Mae wasn’t exactly certain of what she was at Callie. And she wanted to keep it that way. Even though the truth was coming for Mae at rapid speed, she was going down swinging.
‘Then what is it?’ Callie begged.
Mae wanted this to stop. She couldn’t do this. None of it. She needed Callie to leave. She was just about to say it.Please go home. It’s been a long day.The words were in her mouth.
But then Callie said her name with such utter softness and vulnerability. ‘Mae.’
And Mae looked at her. That was the mistake.
Because in that split second, it was as though someone cleared the fog and forced her to see what had been crouching in the corner of her mind for years.
It was obvious now. Always obvious, really.
Mae loved Callie.
Not as a friend. Not as a sister. She loved her with the sort of intensity she’d only ever encountered in books she pretended not to like. Epic romantic love. She’d had it all this time. With Callie Price.
And Callie was standing barely a foot away, waiting, eyes soft, voice gentle, and Mae felt the panic rise.
Say nothing. Say absolutely nothing. If you speak, you will ruin everything. Don’t be stupid, Mae, don’t—
Her gaze snagged on the bag for the homeless shelter sitting nearby, and before she knew what she was doing, she reached out, ripped the bag open, grabbed the stickiest, most ridiculous bun in existence with both hands, and shoved it into her mouth.
