Page 4 of Lady and the Camp
The four of us had been thick as wolverines (University of Michigan’s school mascot) during undergrad. Friends I’d thought I could never survive without, until I’d done exactly that.
The past five years, we’d grown more distant. Scratch that—I’d become more distant.
“I know I look a mess,” I started. This was my chance to be real with people who knew me. No filter, no extra lighting, just me with damp eyes, dried fermented juice crusted on my chin, and dark roots betraying my cotton candy pink hair. “Truth: Iama mess. Big time. I…need help.”
I assumed I’d hit bottom, but who could be sure this wasn’t merely the first layer of earth? Toss in a shovel. Surely a deeper level existed.
The three of them spoke at once, all overtop each other. Marcy raised a hand. “May I speak? I’d like to speak.”
“Go ahead,” Jillian said as Noah gestured with her hand to continue.
Marcy leaned closer to the screen, showing off her impeccably maintained skin. When we lived together, she used only soap, water, and SPF, and wow, look at that gorgeous warm complexion. “I think we need to hear from Hudson what she wants from us.” Marcy’s voice softened. “We miss you. The stuff online is madness. I can’t tell what’s real. How are you holding up?”
“I have a lawyer,” I answered. “She’s intense. A statement is going out.” I pressed a hand against my throbbing head. “But that’s not what you’re interested in. I’m trying to figure out my place in all this. I feel so completely stupid.”
“I’m sorry,” Noah spoke up. “But what were yourfriendsdoing for you while this whole ‘blame Hudson for a billionaire’s scams’ went down? Those mega blonds from TV? Hmm?”
My new BFFs, or so I’d thought. Those sisters on the home renovation show everybody loved, with the impossibly gorgeous hair, who never seemed to break a sweat when they tore into drywall. (Their secret: they picked up a sledgehammer for the shot, and handed off the tool to hired help.)
The text response I’d received from Brenna, the older of the sisters, came to mind, as chilling as when I’d first read it:
So sorry to hear of your troubles, Hudson. We feel like distancing from your toxicity aura is needed during this difficult time. Later!
I couldn’t admit to the friends who’d known me when I still wore braces with rubber bands (yes, as an eighteen-year-old—I was a late bloomer) that my supposed famous besties bailed via text. “They’ve been busy,” I began. Aw, screw it. “They’re protecting their brand. Right now, aligning with me is a bad idea for most influencers.”
Noah loudly scoffed. Marcy removed her glasses, fanned her face, and put them back on. Jillian stared open-mouthed.
They spoke at once all over again.
“Okay, hold up.” Marcy clapped for our attention. “I know what we need to do. I’m calling us in. It’s the 9-1-1 back in action. You hear me? Two words: emergency sleepover.”
Chapter 2
Hudson
Afterathankfullyuneventfulflight from L.A. to Detroit, a ride share brought me to suburbia to the address given to me. A modern apartment complex with little alcove doorways and white painted trim.
I’d barely set foot on pavement when familiar faces and arms and voices came at me.
“Get her inside!”
“I could have picked you up, you know.”
“Don’t ever go this long without checking in!”
“Will you stop shaming her? She’s been shamed enough.”
“Sorry, it’s just—”
“Inside. Let’s hustle!”
We made it to the second floor apartment in a whirlwind of chaos. Through a door and closed in tight. My luggage was taken from me and wheeled off down a hall. My body herded into a living room and positioned on a deep seated couch. Her living space offered a homey sensation, unlike most of the apartments in which I’d spent my recent years. A collage of framed photos featuring her large family filled the stretch of wall between two windows. More framed photos lined up along a low bookcase, including one front and center of the four of us at college graduation. On a coffee table, a lopsided stack of magazines sat beside a clear plastic case of nail polishes. Manicure set beside it.
A mug of tea appeared in my hands.
“Herbal okay?” Noah asked.
I nodded, dazed.
