Page 361 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“He might be a movie star, but he’s also a person,” I say. “Why is it okay for people to think of him like an object just because he’s famous?”
“It’s a fair point,” Lucy says. “But if that’s the way you feel, definitelydo notGoogle Flint Hawthorne fanfiction.”
“Fanfiction?! What is fanfiction?”
Lucy and Summer exchange a look.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Summer says. She scooches over and makes room for Lucy on the bed. “You know, it wouldn’t be a bad thing if youdidlike him, Audrey. You’re great. He seems great. Why not be great together?”
“I don’t know that he is great. I barely know him. And you only think he’s great because you’ve seen him in movies. It’s not the same thing.”
“And interviews,” Lucy adds. “We’ve seen him in tons of interviews, and he’s very charming in interviews.”
“Ohhh, the Graham Norton interview!” Summer says. “When he talks about his mom and all the little baby goats on the farm and then they bring out anactualbaby goat, and he totally knows exactly how to hold it and feed it like he’s a total pro.”
Lucy sighs. “Or the one where he goes into the coffee shop wearing a headset and he has to repeat everything that Ellen Degeneres says, and the barista gets so flustered that she starts to cry, and then he gives her a hug and goes to all this effort to make her feel better.”
“Seriously? You guys have been watching these videos all along and never thought to share them with me?” I make amental note to do some Googling as soon as I’m alone again. Which—am I ever alone these days? Lately, it seems like my sisters are spending less and less time in their actual apartment. Or maybe it’s just that I’m spending less time in my lab.
Ever since Flint, nothing has been the same.
“Share them with you?" Lucy says. "Are you kidding? Audrey, a month ago, you would have laughed in our faces if we tried to share celebrity news with you. The fact that you’ve somehow evaded the magic of Flint Hawthorne all these years is totally on you.”
“We’re still missing the point." Summer holds up a hand like she’s trying to regain control of the conversation. She looks at me pointedly. “You said you liked hanging out with him today. If you don’t like him, then what’s going on? Why are you freaking out?”
“I’m not freaking out.”
“You were groaning into your pillow like you got dumped the night before senior prom.”
“Terrible analogy,” Lucy says.
“Like you accidentally deleted all your white squirrel pictures,” Summer amends.
“Betteranalogy,” Lucy says.
“I think I’m just worried about how I’m supposed to gauge what’s real and what isn’t. He told me he had a lot of fun today. And even though he originally told me Joni was the one who would communicate with me about stuff, he’s the one who texted me the pictures.”
Summer takes a slow breath and closes her eyes. “I will not freak out that you have his number in your phone. I will not freak out that you have his number in your phone.”
Lucy nudges Summer, then shoots her ashut-uplook before she turns her attention back to me. “Audrey, I think you’re overthinking it. So you both had fun. That’s a good thing becauseyou’re going to be spending a lot of time with the guy over the next couple of weeks. And so what if he’s the one who texted you? People text each other all the time.”
“She’s right,” Summer says. “But you still raise a valid question about discerning what’s real and what’s not. Have you guys talked about it at all? Set boundaries? Talked about expectations? About the rules?”
My mind drifts back to the sex conversation I had with Summer before Lucy showed up. “That all sounds very official.”
“You said yourself this was a professional arrangement,” Summer says. “It should be official.”
“Totally,” Lucy adds. “Like, you’re going to walk down the red carpet with him, right? But will he expect you to hold his hand? Kiss him?” Luckily, Lucy’s questioning doesn’t go quite as far as Summer’s did, but I’m still feeling like I need a break anyway.
I swallow against the tightness in my throat. “I’ll ask him,” I finally say. “I’ll make sure we talk about it.”
Summer squeezes my knee. “And otherwise, you’ll just try to have fun, right? You’ll stop overthinking.”
I stand and stretch, feigning a confidence I don’t really feel. “Me? Overthink? Never.”
“Did you say he sent you the pictures?” Lucy asks. “How did they turn out? Can I see?”
I grab my phone and take it over to my dresser, where I plug it in to charge. “You can see them once he posts them. Aren’t you cooking something right now? Do I smell something burning?”
