“The Margaret Gilles novels?” My mom’s eyebrows nearly met her hairline. “Honey!”
“A role?!” Marcus reemerged from his scrolling, still brimming with incredulity. “Arole?! You’re fucking playingAddison Riley!”
“Marcus—!” Darlene slapped her palm against the table, sending a spray of pomegranate mimosa onto the damask linen. “Yourmouth—”
“This is like un-fucking-believable!” Nate joined in, staring at me as if I’d sprouted a tit in the middle of my forehead. “Yoursister’s friend isstarringin the dopest film of our lifetime!” His unduly large Adam’s apple flopped up and down. “You’re going to be like—famous.” He seemed to shock himself by speaking directly to me and abruptly diverted his attention to his cheese-smeared fingernails.
“I don’t understand.” Darlene glanced between me and her son. “You got a part in a movie?”
“Mom! It’sSand Seekers, come on!” Marcus pounded his fist on the table. “Sand Seekers! It’s like—like,” he flung his napkin in frustration, “likeStar Wars, but, with like blood and sex and—”
“Hot women!” Nate chimed in.
“Yeah!”
For a gross second, I thought they were going to fist bump.
Dani looked up from where she was scrolling on her own phone. “I can’t believe you’re going to be in a movie with Elliott Fleming.” Some of her bitterness dissipated as her interest elevated. “You’re going to kiss Grady Dunn!”
“The actor fromKing?” asked Darlene. Code for: you’re going to kiss a Black man and you’re okay with this? She’d nearly burned the world down when she found out her daughter was going to be a Cortés.
“He’shot, Mom,” Dani snapped, but I ignored both of them, tuning out the increasing volume of chatter across the table. My only focus shifted to Dillon, who sat staring at the gilded pinecone centerpiece, saying nothing.
“Hey,” I brushed the toe of my ballet flat against her ankle. “Sorry, I would have told you. I just—I couldn’t say anything until—”
“Don’t be twp!” She looked up, returning from wherever her thoughts had taken her. “You have no reason to apologize.” Despite her attempt to brighten her tone, her words fell flat. “Sand Seekers. That’s quite something.”
“It’s going to be big.” I tried to find some of the enthusiasm I knew I should be feeling. It was just—there was something behind her smile that worried me. I’d expected her to be delighted. It was exciting news. “I wanted to tell you, really,” I pled my case again.
“No, no, it’s not that. It’s—it’s great, honestly.” The pallor of her face said it was anything but great. “I’m glad for you, Kameryn.”
Kameryn. Not Kam-Kameryn. Not even Kam.
“This is so sick!” Marcus was still ranting. “Like the whole world’s going to know your name!”
“It’s just a movie, Marcus,” Darlene was attempting to curb her son’s enthusiasm.
Over the din of the table, my dad was trying to ask me a question. Something about contracts—Had I had an attorney look at mine? Young women could be taken advantage of in Hollywood, did I know?
I wanted to tell them all to shut the hell up. To give me a moment to think. Something had happened. Right in front of me, I could see Dillon closing down.
“Will you excuse me?” Dillon stood abruptly, her chair scraping across the marble. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t look at anyone. “I…” No one else paid her any attention. “I just need a minute.” Without waiting for a response, she fled through the towering arch leading into the hall.
I felt like an invisible door had just been slammed. Like I’d been sucker punched, the wind knocked from my gut. My name was being called from every angle, but the only opinion I really cared about had just walked out the door.
This wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all.
Scene 22
“It’s absolutely cracking, is what it is! Bloody brill!”
Sam dropped the barbell onto the mat, wiping sweat off her brow.
Dillon stepped around her. “It is absolutelynotbloody brill.” She sank onto a weight bench. “Spot me, yeah?”
“So where’d you leave it?” Sam’s obnoxious grin greeted her over the bar catch.
She’d been positively giddy, as Dillon expected, over the news of Kam’s upcoming role. Sam was the only reason Dillon even knew whatSand Seekerswas. The dystopian saga was practically a religion to the footballer. Dillon had always rolled her eyes when Sam got a chin-nod or thumbs-up from fellow fanatics when they spotted the tattooed mural on her calf depicting the apocalyptic tale.