Page 41 of Just the Tipsy
“Why were those the only options? Just living where you lived?” he asks. Duke picks up a reasonably sized stick ahead of us, his whole butt wagging with his tail as he shows us. “Great stick, buddy.”
“Yeah, entertainment industry stuff was always the first line. Especially with nepotism connections.” I watch Duke prance along, very proud of his stick. “But trust me, I saw more than enough people try to launch careers in the industry who were subpar and I didn’t want to go that route. At least with modeling it’s a little easier to skirt by. Maybe that’s why I went into it once I had a glow-up.”
“You know what I’m going to say about that.” He gives me a slow smile.
“And you know that I’m going to say that there’s more to modeling than how I look.” I gently nudge him with my shoulder.
“I still think I’m right,” he says. “How old were you when you got into it?”
“Seventeen, so kind of old compared to other models. But before that I had really awful skin. Painful acne, all over,” I say. I’m not sure why saying it out loud makes me flush with heat. It’s been a while since I’ve told anyone new. Regardless, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. “It took Accutane and a ton of different skin treatments. Even now I’m a little anal about products being simple and safe. Nothing too crazy.”
Now my skin is nearly perfect — aside from a few period-related zits once a month and some lingering scars that laser treatments didn’t fix, everything is under control. But the emotional scars of it are still inside the back of my brain.
“That’s rough,” he says softly. “I just had a few zits and I felt so self-conscious. I can’t imagine having it bad.”
“Yeah, I got bullied for it.” I sigh. “Then again, kids find anything to bully each other over.”
“Every day I’m surprised at how shitty teenagers can be.” He shakes his head. “I can’t understand how Jeremiah teaches a bunch of high schoolers math everydayandcoaches football after.”
“I think I’d die. He must have balls of steel.”
“Yeah, he’s always been like that while somehow being laid back. It’s a gift,” he says. “Speaking of, do you want to come to trivia with us? Jada and Jeremiah were asking if you want to come.”
“Trivia?” I blink and glance up at him. “I’m going to be borderline useless, you know.”
“You’ll be fine,” he says with a smile. “And they just want to get to know you more.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. It’s probably a good idea to hang out with his friends to sell the fake relationship. But I want them to genuinely like me for some reason.
“Sure, then. It’ll help us sell the relationship to your mom if people see us all hanging out,” I say.
“Cool, I’ll text you the details. It’ll be fun,” he says, genuine as always. “Anyway, do you want to open a spa because it’s skincare?”
“Yeah, exactly. We’re thinking of it like a med spa,” I say. “Not like, Botox and fillers, but mostly skin treatments for people with scarring or acne. Kind of place where I went when I was a teenager. A place people can go without judgment.”
He nods and lets me walk ahead on a narrow part of the trail. “I don’t know much about spas, but that sounds like a good idea.”
“I still don’t really know deep down if I’m going the right direction,” I admit. “I study business in my spare time and we’re doing what we can remotely, but it’s not like I’ve gone to school for this. Neither has Kaitlyn, but at least she went to college for a bit.”
“Plenty of people haven’t gone to school, and they’ve succeeded. The fact that you’re trying and doing your research is important,” he says. “People who go in with the mindset that they’ve learned everything are usually the ones who fuck up.”
“True.” I still shrug. Logically I know he’s right, but it’s hard to believe it deep down. My life has been both limited and expansive at the same time, stuck in a little bubble without a ton of hardship.
“You don’t seem like you believe me,” he says. “But you should.”
“Quit reading me like a picture book,” I say, teasing even though I’m still thrown off by how he can just reach past my usual neutral expression and pull out the truth.
“You’re a little hard to read sometimes, but not always,” he says. Duke walks back toward us and puts the stick he’s been carrying into Waylon’s hand before going to get another. “I just have to look a little deeper. And I don’t mind doing that.”
I stare up at him. What can I even say to that?
I’ve felt this flip-flop in my chest looking at him before, but it’s never taken my breath away. But this time, it does. And for the first time, worry is in the mix too. I can’t get too attached to Waylon — he’s not a part of my future plans. But I think I’m getting tied to him without even trying.
TWELVE
BIANCA
“Don’t be nervous,”Waylon says as I climb into his SUV. I hold the bottom of my denim mini-skirt, but Waylon’s eyes still skim up my legs. The skirt is quickly becoming a staple, and it’s only partially because of how he looks at me when I wear it.
