Page 16 of (Not So) Famous in Paradise

I squeeze his hand. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

The tension eases out of his shoulders “It’s okay. I’d help you out if I could. But I can’t.” There’s disappointment in the slight curve of his mouth.

I want to reassure him and let him off the hook, but then I think about Heidi Thomsen, who never let Zach’s dyslexia get in the way of him doing things he really wanted to do.

“You can do this, Zach.” Not that I’m the cheerleader type or anything, but there’s so much enthusiasm in my voice, I could be. “I can make it work. I’ll have Teri print the script as soon as it’s ready so you can read it beforehand.”

He plants his feet more firmly on the sidewalk. “Have you forgottenHairspray? How much you had to help me?”

I had forgotten. That memory had been lost behind the one of him singing his heart out and shining every time he got on stage.

But it had been a rough twelve weeks to get him there, rehearsing for hours every day, then spending hours every night helping him read and memorize lines.

And…I don’t care.

Now that I’ve envisioned the two of us on camera together, bantering as we tour the house, I know it’s just what the show needs. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen.

“You were amazing on stage, Zach. That’s what I remember.” I’m still holding his hand, and I squeeze it even tighter as my excitement grows. “I loved helping you, and I can do it again. Except this time will be easier. I’ll read the lines to you, you can memorize a little of it, and we’ll ad lib the rest. It doesn’t have to be word-for-word. What’s important is you have the gist of what we’re talking about.”

He shakes his head, but there’s uncertainty in his no.

“It’ll just be the two of us,” I add quickly. “Talking like we always do.”

“With cameras.”

“Well, yeah. That’s the fun part.” I smile.

Zach snorts a laugh, but he’s not saying no.

“So what do you say? You’ll try, at least, won’t you? That’s all I ask.”

He blinks a few times and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. And I remember that’s the line his mom always used when he had to face something hard with his dyslexia.Try, at least, Zach. That’s all I ask.

The moment is almost ruined when Ike comes out of the trailer and yells, “I said to get him in makeup!”

I look back at Zach. “Amber could give you eyebrows like Ike’s,” I murmur so only he can hear, then waggle my own eyebrows.

He laughs again, then dips his chin, which is close enough to a nod that I don’t give him time to back out.

“Zach needs a printed copy of the script so we can go over it together,” I yell back to Ike, ignoring the wrinkle in his brow. “And make sure the teleprompter font is Arial.” I remember this is a dyslexic-friendly font because it’s sans-serif.

Amber appears from the trailer, and Ike points from her to Zach. “Makeup!”

Zach trudges to Amber, but he glares at me over his shoulder. “I’m still not happy about this.”

I might believe him if his mouth wasn’t threatening to pull into a smile.

“The camera is going to love you, Zandwich.” I smile wide and flutter my eyelashes at him.

“I need a footstool here,” Amber yells. She only comes to Zach’s chest.

Gracyn sets down the mic and runs to the van. Within seconds she’s back with a stool, which she places between Amber and Zach.

Amber steps on it, bringing her almost eye-level with Zach. Gracyn holds the magic chest of makeup while Amber begins patting all kinds of foundation on Zach’s face.

I look back at Seb, who is tugging on the handle of his tailgate. “I just cancelled the rest of my day.” The tailgate drops, and Seb hoists himself onto it. “I’m here for all of this.”

“I hate you, you know?” Zach yells without moving.

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