She stood and I braced myself for her to keep up this fight she’d been having with herself and projecting onto me, but she wrapped me in her arms and held me tight as she stroked my hair. “I love you, baby girl. And I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
“Even with Paxton?” I couldn’t let this part go. I needed her to be okay with us.
“I know I’ve been a hard-ass about the coworker thing, but I can admit Paxton is good, and anyone can see how he loves you. I promise I won’t get in the way of that.”
“Thank you.” I squeezed her back.
Mom gently rocked side to side as she held me, pouring every ounce of love she had for me into that hug. When we both started getting weepy, we opened up our arms and pulled Gram into our fold until the three of us became a single unit. We were Evanses. We were forged of fire and steel, and we would not bend for anyone.
Except each other.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
TUESDAY, THE FIRST OFFICIAL day of the county fair, had arrived, and the Bees were in a tizzy. They’d finished their quilt under the wire the night before, and had it wrapped up and on the way to the craft hall before Mom or I got a look at it. They fluttered around the living room, checking each other’s hair, pointing out who had lipstick on their teeth (Donna) and who had a coffee stain on their blouse (Peg). After fussing and changing outfits twice, the Queens of the Shelby County Fair were ready to make their grand entrance.
Mom and Roger waved them off from the driveway. Gram couldn’t resist giving Roger the middle finger before she piled into Peg’s car, but she did it with a smile. It seemed he was winning her over after all. Slowly. Then he got into his car with Mom and followed the Bees. After they helped them get everything set in the craft hall, they planned to make a day of the fair, like a couple of gross and in-love teenagers. It made me ridiculously happy.
Me: The adults are gone. Want to come over and get me naked?
Paxton: Would love nothing more, but I’m already at the fair. Needed to get here early for Matilda. Rain check?
Me: No problem.
I’d just seen him yesterday morning, but he’d already asked for two rain checks when I’d suggested we get together. I tried not to let that worry me. He had to get Matilda ready, and the Shelby County Fair was the biggest rabbit show of the season. But still. The timing of it all with Eric’s threats had left me with a certain amount of unease.
I hadn’t gone online since Elise had shown me Eric’s YouTube video, but she’d been keeping tabs on him. His likes and retweets had dropped significantly in the last week, and that worried me more than anything. Desperation made people do terrible things. He wasn’t willing to let the Baseball Babe thing go, and since I’d gone dark, I had to assume the public had either lost interest or turned against him. But apparently he and Jessica still intended to show up today around two. Elise said it looked like he was trying to get more coverage, tagging various news organizations daily for our big appearance together.
Maybe it was better for Paxton to keep his distance right now. I didn’t want him anywhere near Eric and Jessica, not when Jessica planned on live streaming for Instagram. If they ended up filming him, if people got curious, it could bring up everything that had happened with his sister all over again. The long-dead story—buried by years of People of Walmart, Tan Mom, and Yanny or Laurel—would be dragged out again. Though Paxton’s family had broken under the strain, and healed again in the only ways they knew how, I would not be part of ripping open that wound again.
I had a lot of hard decisions to make before I met up with Eric and Jessica, but one thing was certain: I was no longer willing to do whatever it took to boost my numbers. I had other options if I dared to explore them.
Millions of people who didn’t go to college had decent jobs and good lives. Maybe one day I could open my own store. I’d sell movies and cosplay costumes to go with them, and host watching parties, and have movie club discussions with fancy wine and cheese, and have birthday parties with Disney movies and princess dresses. I could make it a whole experience. Something to get people out of their homes and away from streaming services.
I didn’t have to keep giving away pieces of myself to survive. Maybe it had been that way for Gram and Mom, but I could break the cycle. It wasn’t too late. I could still be who I chose to be, not who Twitter wanted me to be.
With nothing better to do than sit around the house and stress, I grabbed the car keys and headed out to the fair. By the time I arrived, the parking lot was overflowing. Everyone and their dog had come out for the first day. Most of the businesses in the surrounding towns shut down.
The scents reminded me of a combination of the Royals game and Paxton’s backyard—fried bread and grilled sausages mixed with barnyard hay. Little kids with balloon animals and lemonade ran through the crowds. The whoosh of mechanical rides and the screams of terrified riders filled the air. A giant Ferris wheel loomed over the crowd, and just looking at it made my stomach pitch. I’d gone through a weird carnival horror stories phase after renting one of the Final Destination movies a few years ago, and there were now maybe five rides I didn’t think of as pretty little death traps.
I had exactly three dollars, mostly in dimes and nickels I’d picked out of various drawers in the house, and I was starving. I wandered around the concession stands, debating between cotton candy and candy apples, when I caught sight of Midnight and Elise. They sat at a picnic table sharing a half-grape–half-strawberry snow cone like a 1950s ad for a malt shop.
I sat at their table. “Aren’t you two love birds sickeningly cute?”
Elise flipped me off. “You’re just jealous we won’t share our snow cone.”
True. It looked delicious.
“Is Paxton showing Matilda today?” Elise asked.
I nodded. “At five. He’s with Gigi at the 4-H barn, if you want to stop over and see them. I guess they bring her in early so she gets accustomed to the crowd.”
At three, she’d be weighed, measured, and checked in. Then Paxton would groom her again before the posing. The rabbit shows weren’t really a spectator sport, but I planned on watching anyway. There were few things in this world cuter than a boy and his bunny.
A little girl with ribbons in her hair walked by, one hand in her mom’s and the other clutching a candy apple. My mouth watered. “I’m getting a candy apple.”
“Hey, you,” Paxton said.
I spun and threw my arms around him. My pockets jingled with all my change. He hugged me back, and I could feel the tension in his arms. Probably because of Matilda’s show and the prospect of Eric lurking around. At least that was what I kept telling myself.
“I’m surprised to see you,” I said. “Aren’t you prepping Matilda?”
“Gigi wanted cotton candy.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I can’t talk right now. I really shouldn’t even be out here.”
My heart twisted into a knot. “Oh. Okay. I have stuff to do too.”
I turned away before he could see how much his distance affected me, and made it five steps before I caught sight of a familiar profile: a ridiculously hot guy with a manipulative streak and a thirst for fame. And next to him, bobbing through the crowds, a perky woman with a pink bow in her hair.