“Rumor, I’d like you to meet Morgan,” Brock says, coming into the living room.
Right behind him is the woman from the movie I saw with Axl right before I moved here. It was a superhero movie, and she played a scientist. She’s been in action movies too, along with a few romances. She’s been in a ton of stuff, actually.
“Hi, I’m Morgan,” she says, coming up to shake my hand.
She’s even prettier in person. And really tiny. Short and thin but with big boobs that are nearly popping out of her low-cut white dress. Her hair was blonde in the movie I just saw, but now it’s a dark brown.
“Hi,” I say, staring at her. “I didn’t know you werethatMorgan. I’ve seen a ton of your movies.”
She smiles. “You like action films?”
“No, but my boyfriend does. And he loves superhero movies. We saw the one that just came out.”
“She has one releasing in the fall as well,” Brock says. “And two next spring.”
“Liv, come meet Brock’s niece,” Morgan says, looking behind her.
The girl slowly walks up to her mom. She looks younger than fourteen. She’s short and thin like her mom and has long blonde hair streaked with blue and purple. Her dress is black like mine, but made of a casual knit fabric, like a t-shirt. Why couldn’t I wear a dress like that? It looks way more comfortable than the dress I’m wearing, which is making me itch.
“Honey, this is Rumor. She just moved here from New York.”
“Hi, Livia,” I say, practicing the fake smile I plan to use at school next week.
“It’sLiv,” she says.
“Oh. I thought it was Livia.”
“It is,” Morgan says, “but she prefers Liv.”
“Which some people can’t seem to remember,” she says, shooting an angry look at Brock.
He ignores her. “We should get going.”
“Where’s Braden?” Liv asks.
“He’s at the gym,” Brock says.
“Which is code for doing whatever the hell he wants,” I say, which gets a slight smile from Liv.
Brock takes Morgan’s hand and leads her out the door to the driveway. Liv and I stay a few feet behind.
“How old is your mom?” I ask, thinking she can’t be more than thirty. She looks more like twenty-five.
Liv huffs. “You mean Hollywood age or real age?”
“Real age.”
“Thirty-two, but she tells everyone she’s twenty-nine. And she’s been twenty-nine for the past three years.”
“So she had you when she was—”
“Eighteen.”
“But if she tells people she’s twenty-nine, that would mean she had you when she was—”
“It’s still eighteen. She tells people I’m eleven.”
“And they believe her?”
