As Annie actively tries to eavesdrop, I hold her away with a stiff arm.
“Okay, I… I just wanted to see if you’ve heard from Christine.”
Pain crackles through my chest. “I haven’t, but I… didn’t expect to.”
Haley sighs. “Okay, maybe I just need advice. That last day of shooting, we like… were making plans, y’know… and she kept talking about how we should meet up when we were both back in LA. She told me about this, like, specific smoothie place, and we were gonna hang out at her pool, and… Ugh, I don’t know, I’m feeling totally mental.”
“Wait, so what happened? She cancelled?”
“No, she just… isn’t responding. To my calls or my texts.”
“You’re sure you have the right number?”
“It worked in New Zealand… I just, ugh, maybe I misread everything. That’s a thing, right? You say you’re gonna hang out but you don’t really mean it, and… I mean, Christine’s a big star and I’m just… y’know…”
“Christine’s not that way,” I say forcefully, and then only after the words are out of my mouth do I realize that I mean them. “She wouldn’t ghost you.”
“Okay, so then I’m kind of freaking out. Lana called me; she can’t get a hold of Christine either.”
“What about Christine’s agent? Her manager?”
“I don’t know, I’m assuming Lana tried them before me…”
“When was the last time anyone talked to her?”
Annie’s eyes widen, and she reaches for the phone again. I swat her away as Haley answers.
“At the end of the wrap party, I think… I can text everyone else, I just—well, I wanted to call you first to make sure I wasn’t being, like, totally cringe.”
“Shit. Okay, yeah, that’s a good idea. Someone’s probably heard from her. You said you’re in LA? You have her address?”
“No… or, well… I guess I could google it? Is that creepy? They won’t even let me past the gate, I’m sure!”
“Listen, you’re a star now. The only reason they’d stop you is for your autograph. Drop by her house, bring wine, say you were in the area. If she’s there, great—maybe her phone is just fucked up. You might even have heard back from someone by then.”
Haley takes a deep breath. “Okay. Yes. I’m sure she’s fine. You’re the best, Mylo.”
“Right back atcha. Keep me posted.”
“I will. Bye for now.”
“Bye.”
As I lower my phone, Annie’s shining eyes come into focus. She mouths something silently.
“What?”
“Go to her,” she whispers. “Go to her! Youhaveto!”
I’m about ready to hit her over the head with the pan in the drying rack. “What?! What about Mom!”
“Mom’s a big girl. She’ll get over it.”
“Annie—”
She grabs my shoulders. “Listen to me, Mylo. You’re so obviouslymiserable. Dad suggesting the coffee shop? He thinks you’redepressed,and youare. Watching you mope around all week has been…fucking terrible. You hate it out here and you always have. And she’s clearly also miserable!”
“No, I’m sure she’s not?—”
