Page 134 of Faking the Pass
“Actually, no,” I admitted.
“Well then I’ve been a shitty big brother.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, silently asking me to let him make his point.
“Our college coach once brought in this speaker, this psychologist who went around speaking at big professional conferences and stuff,” he said. “She’d written a book onimposter syndrome, and she said she’d once spoken to a convention of neurosurgeons—literal brain surgeons.”
He laughed and went on. “When she asked if anyone in the room had dealt with imposter syndrome, every single hand went up. Same when she spoke to a group of astronauts. Just like the brain surgeons, everyone there said they basically were just waiting for everyone to figure out they didn’t really know what they were doing and they sort of wondered how they’d ever gotten as far as they did.”
“So you’re comparing me to astronauts and brain surgeons,” I joked, and Wilder laughed out loud.
“Exactly.”
“Thanks man,” I said. “I mean, not for that. For the other stuff you said.”
A young woman I vaguely recognized but couldn’t place interrupted, holding up her disposable event camera.
“Excuse me. Rosie and Presley, would you mind taking a picture with me?”
Then she caught sight of Jessica.
“Oh my God, Jade! I didn’t know you were here tonight,” she said, looking starstruck. “Would you be in it too?”
Jessica graciously said, “Sure. Happy to,” and Rosie and I of course agreed.
The woman looked around, presumably for someone to snap the photo. Her eyes landed on Wilder.
“Hi.” She smiled and held out the camera to him. “Would you mind?”
“That’s my husband, Wilder Lowe,” Jessica said. “And you’re Sierra aren’t you?”
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you know my name,” Sierra said, placing a hand on her chest.
“Are you kidding? I love your new single,” Jessica told her.
Sierra bent over at the waist then rose again with her hands over her nose and mouth. “I am so freaking out right now.”
Then the woman’s eyelids flew wide as she looked at Wilder. “Oh, wait, are you Presley’s brother?”
Wilder grinned, taking the camera from here. “Sure am. Older and wiser. Okay, everyone move together.”
We all smiled and posed for a couple of shots, and Sierra thanked us before rushing away.
A group of men who must have witnessed the scene approached us. One of them smiled sheepishly and held up his own box camera.
“Hey, I wasn’t going to ask, but since you did one for her… I’m a big Nauticals fan. Do you mind, Pres?”
While I hadn’t minded posing with my family for the young singer, I was starting to feel uncomfortable now. In this room full of famous people, I was only a minor celebrity—at least that’s how it felt.
However, I understood being a fan of a team. I’d grown up loving the Nauticals myself.
“Sure man,” I said.
Rosie reached for his camera, obviously meaning to snap the picture for him, but he turned to Wilder.
“Actually would you mind taking it, bro?” he asked. “I’d love to have the actress and the pop star in it, too, if I could.”
And now my discomfort turned to irritation.
