Page 90 of Bad Crush
“Okay.” She inhales and then lets it out slowly. “I’m ready.”
I speak the first line and then watch in awe as Reagan delivers hers. Amazing isn’t the half of it. When she goes into performer mode, you can’t help but stop and stare.
I’m still staring when she looks at me and says, “Next line.”
“Right, sorry.”
From there, I manage to keep up. I haven’t seen her truly perform it before now, so it’s hard to say if the ice is helping or not, but I know I’m totally enthralled. She’s funny. Her body language, the tone in which she speaks, the looks—it’s incredible. She’s incredible.
We go through the first act. I’m back sitting on the wall, and she skates over to me. She’s steadier now the longer she’s been out here, but she still clings to my legs for support when she reaches me.
“Thank you for this.”
“Are you kidding? I feel like I just got an exclusive preview. You’re going to be amazing.”
“I don’t know if it’s the ice or maybe just you, but I feel amazing.”
“We should probably go soon.”
She nods. “Okay. I just want to take another lap or two.”
We skate slowly. I still take her hand, even though she seems to have the hang of it now. “What made you decide to be an actress?”
“I watched a lot of TV as a kid. Mom was gone, and I was lonely.”
My chest aches at her admission. “Fuck, baby. I’m sorry.”
“During the day, I would go to friends’ houses or play outside in the neighborhood, but at night, I was on my own a lot. I couldn’t have friends stay over because I didn’t want their parents to know. And I didn’t want to be gone in case my mom came back or tried to call.” She smiles. “TV kept me company.”
“How did you end up living with Janine?”
“I told you our moms were friends, but I guess even she didn’t realize how bad things were. My mom asked her to check in on me one random Saturday night. I don’t know why she suddenly grew a conscience. She’d left me alone for entire weekends plenty of times before. Anyway, Janine’s mom came over to see that I was doing okay.” Reagan glances over shyly. “I was more than okay. I’d thrown the most epic of high school parties. Even popular kids who never talked to me showed up. I was so cool for about two hours. Alas, my popularity was cut short when Marge, Janine’s mom, busted in. She was nice about it, really. It could have been worse. She made everyone leave and then told me to pack a bag.”
“I’m glad she looked out for you.”
“Yeah, me too. Who knows what kind of trouble I would have gotten into without her watching out for me? Popularity would have gone straight to my head.”
“And your mom? She didn’t care that someone else had taken you in?”
“I think she was relieved.” Reagan’s brows pull together. “She wasn’t mean or awful to me, at least not outright. She was negligent and absent, but I think she wanted good things for me.”
“And she thought that was you living with someone else?” It’s hard for me to have any empathy for a woman who left her kid alone for days at a time. No matter the reason.
“Janine’s family did take better care of me.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“About six months after I moved to Valley, Lori started emailing me every day.”
“You said you haven’t talked to her.”
“I haven’t. I don’t respond. The first few emails were apologies and promises that she was getting her life together, moving back home, getting a job that would keep her around. Now all I get is my horoscope.”
“What?”
“Every morning, she emails me my horoscope. It sounds weird when I say it out loud, but it was always her thing. When she was home, she’d read them out of the paper or the magazine while we had breakfast. I knew the astrological signs before I knew my ABCs.”
“You ever think about replying?”
