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“Hear me out before you make up your mind, alright?”
There was nothing I could argue about that.
She took a sip of her tea, cringing at the bitter-bagged brew, and then touched a finger to the Welsh dragon on her left wrist, exposed where her arm lay across my table. “You asked me about this one.” She tapped the crisp design. “I got it for my dad—he died when I was nineteen.”
“I’m sorry.” I stared at the dragon, unsure what else to say.
“Yeah, me too, but it’s beside the point.” Folding her hands, she dropped her elbows onto the table. “I’d fallen out with him a few years earlier. He’d—,” she paused, considering something before continuing, “he’d not seen eye-to-eye with a coach I’d had at the time. He felt I was pushing too hard—that I wasbeingpushed too hard—to compete. To turn pro. And he’d worried I was losing my childhood in between. At the time, Ididn’t understand it. He’d always loved my sport, commending me on my dedication, encouraging me to follow my dreams. So it felt like a betrayal—him having hesitations. Proof, in my shortsighted mind, that he didn’t believe in me.” Her sculpted jaw worked side to side, her gaze turning distant into the cooling cup of tea. “In hindsight, his concerns had been well-founded, but I’d been so self-centered, I refused to believe he wanted the best for me. Instead, I cut him out. And, by default, my mam and sister, also. It was a decision I was encouraged to make. I was young and stupid—so focused on myself, I lost track of who to trust, and forgot the people who loved me.”
She sighed, her thoughts heavy, before her eyes flicked back to the red outline of the dragon tattoo. I followed her gaze.
“When I made Team Great Britain, I’d just turned nineteen. The Olympics were two months away, and I was the youngest triathlete to qualify in history. It had been my lifelong obsession. A goal I’d shared with my dad since, well…” she shrugged, implying forever.
“I never even told him. We hadn’t spoken in three years. My parents found out from the papers.” Again, her jaw worked, the muscles of her neck tightening with tension. “He died two weeks before the Opening Ceremony. He’d been sick and I hadn’t known.” She brushed her thumb across the tattoo. “A lot happened over the next year—irrelevant to the moral of my story—but when I amended my relationship with my mam and sister, my sister—Seren—showed me a picture of this tattoo. My dad—a straight-laced, traditional, button-down kind of guy—had gotten it the day he learned I’d qualified. The only tattoo he ever had.”
She laughed, but the sound was so full of hurt, it made my heart ache. I felt like I needed to look away, to give her space, but instead, she looked up and caught my eye. “Anyhow—it’s not the same situation as yours, Kameryn. But if you’ll consider a bit of unsolicited advice—go see your mam. Your dad. Makeamends. You might be surprised. It’s easy, while we’re trying to prove ourselves—tofindourselves—to forget about the things that matter. Let them be disappointed in university. That’s their right, as parents. They’re allowed to have dreams for you, even if they don’t align with your own. But don’t hold it against them forever. Because most likely, what they want more than anything, is to see you happy. Even if they don’t show it the way you’d like them to.”
Raising her tea again, she touched the ceramic mug to her lips, and then knitted her brow in disgust. “I can’t—you Americans simply have no taste buds.” She rose and disappeared into my kitchen.
I stared at my checkered tile. She was right, it wasn’t the same situation.
But I also understood what she was saying. If one of my parents were to die tomorrow, my heart would be shattered. As angry as I was at them, I loved them—I missed them. I longed for their Sunday morning phone calls. My mom’s late-night texts. My dad’s cornyYou Might Be a Redneck If…jokes from watching too much Jeff Foxworthy.
I wanted, so badly, to be able to call my mom when the cast was released forSand Seekers. To send her a photo of me and Margaret Gilles. Maybe even invite her to the preview.
Maybe Dani hadn’t been entirely wrong. It did take two to tango. It wouldn’t kill me to give them a chance. I realized Dillon would probably have given anything to spend a Christmas Eve with her dad again. No matter what humble pie was served.
Even if it meant spending it with the Hallwells.
She returned through the archway separating the living room from my kitchen and resumed her seat with a can of LaCroix from my fridge. “Hope you don’t mind.” She tipped the can in my direction.
“Would you go with me?”
Her eyes snapped up from where she’d been popping the tab. There was no hiding the fact that I’d surprised her. “To your mate’s Christmas Eve?”
“To dinner. Even the Hallwells don’t own Christmas Eve.”
She laughed. “Don’t you think they’d wonder what you’re doing with me?”
I shrugged. “Bringing a friend to dinner?” Rising, I stepped in front of her, stealing the sparkling water and taking a sip. “They don’t need to know what Iwantedto be doing with you,” I said, pressing the can back into her hands.
“No?” One blonde eyebrow lifted along with the corner of her mouth. “You’ve not exactly got a first-rate poker face.” Smiling, she discarded the water onto the table and slid her hands to my hips, hooking her thumbs through my belt loops. “You think you’re going to fool them, Kam-Kameryn?”
“I’m an actress! Of course I can,” I tsked, entirely uncertain that was true.
But of two things Iwascertain. One, I wasn’t driving to Northern California without her. And two, if we didn’t leave immediately, my interest was going to be turned in another direction, and we wouldn’t be leaving at all.
Scene 16
Silicon Valley should have been named Saccharin Valley. That was Kam’s warning as they pulled off the motorway and navigated through a series of densely wooded streets. Each brief clearing revealed a herculean estate grander than the last.
“Everything is fake here.”
It seemed an odd observation from a woman who lived amidst the sparkling veneer of Hollywood, but Dillon didn’t ask how one differed from the other. She was too busy trying to figure out how she’d let Kam talk her into joining her. Not because she was intimidated by her minted friends. Life as an elite athlete had given her plenty of experience navigating the circles of affluent culture. She was more concerned with how her presence was going to be received in regards to Kameryn.
From everything Kam told her about the Hallwells—about her best friend, Dani, in particular—the arrival of someone like Dillon in Kameryn’s company wasn’t going to be swept under the rug. She didn’t want to be the cause of unnecessary adversity. Not when the evening was already destined to have Kam ill at ease.
But they were already there, pulling through the wrought iron gates and handing off the keys to a valet—hired, Kam assured her, only on the off chance Mark Zuckerburg finally accepted Mr. Hallwell’s standing invitation—so there was nobacking out now.
