Being Hartley (9 page)

"Not unless Dad's car breaks down," is her answer from the couch. "And even then, I'd rather walk to Vegas."

"Well…" Mom looks slightly taken aback.
"Um, okay, then."

A knock on the door interrupts us.

"Rory?" a voice calls. Melinda, I think.

"I'm coming!" Rory yells.
"I
will
be there." She sounds slightly annoyed.

"Rory," Uncle Erik says quietly.

Rory pauses in her scrunching and sighs. "It's the constant checking in. It bugs me. I mean, I said I would take a shower and be out there, and that's what I'm doing, okay?"

"Well, good," is Uncle Erik's answer.

Rory sticks her head back in her towel. "You ready, Thea?" she says from underneath.

"Yes," I tell her.

"Well, then, let's go," she says, in a muffled voice, making me wonder if the towel thing is a new strategy and if she'll take it off her head before we hit Vegas.

-
11
-

We grab our suitcases out of the trunk of Rory's car and make for the bus.
After a step or two, I glance back at the car. "You didn't lock it," I remind her.

"Really?
What a shame." Rory doesn't stop. "I hope nobody takes it."

"Rory," I say, not moving, thinking I'm starting to get where Uncle Erik might be coming from.
She's so on edge, it's as if one little push might send her right over.

Where to, I don't know.

"Fine." She holds the keys up over her shoulder and locks the car. She keeps walking until she realizes I'm not following her, and then she pauses and about-faces, squinting in the bright LA sunlight. "Are you coming, or not?"

In the distance, I can see Mom, Uncle Erik
, and Allie all piling into Uncle Erik's SUV. Suddenly, the car is beginning to seem more inviting. "I don't know."

Rory hesitates for a second, then walks a few paces
toward me. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I'm not myself. I'm jumpy all the time I'm here these days. If you can come and keep my mind off it all, I'd appreciate it. Really. It's not about you, it's about this…" She waves her arm, indicating the
SMD
hangar and the bus. "And me."

I stare at her, trying really, really hard to understand what's going on.
"I want to help you, Rory, but I don't know what to do." It's kind of scaring me—this sudden change in my cousin.

Rory shrugs slightly.
"I don't think there's anything you can do. Just come and sit with me. Keep me company."

"Okay," I say, uncertain.

"In other words, let's try and have a good time." Rory exhales.

I listen to what she's telling me.
"That I can try and do," I say as I start walking again, and Rory joins me. "Hey, how about we start by showing Noah that video of you wet and bouncing on the trampoline that your dad showed us last night? I downloaded it onto my cell."

"You did not," Rory says, her eyes widening and her pace quickening to match mine.
"You did not download that, and you cannot show him that."

I run a few steps now.
"I sure did, and I sure can!" I dodge and weave a few steps. "I thought he'd loooove to see it. You know, after the whole Noah YouTube debacle that transpired earlier this year."

The whole "Noah YouTube debacle that transpired earlier this year" was pretty funny, actually.
Well, pretty funny for everyone except Noah. The
SMD
team did an amazing treadmill dance. Sure, people had done treadmill dances before, but this routine was really, scarily complex, and they rehearsed way more than usual to pull it off. At one point, during a Skype session, I even remember Rory picking up her laptop at home, stripping down to a cami and undies, and giving me a tour of the bruises on her body.

Anyway, as per usual, every
SMD
rehearsal was filmed. Everyone fell off their treadmills all the time at the start and then less so as they rehearsed more. But then, right when they thought everyone had the routine down, the day before they were set to record the show, Noah really lost it on his treadmill in their final rehearsal. Somehow, walking backward on his treadmill, he:

1.    
   fell backward
   
2.   
   landed on his backside
   
3.   
   tipped forward again as he tried to get up, but misjudged this
   
4.   
   curled into a ball
   
5.   
   somersaulted forward
   
6.   
   landed on his backside again at the end of the treadmill
   
7.   
   scooted off onto the floor
   
8.   
   and then wound up wedged tight in between his treadmill and Rory's treadmill, directly behind him.
   

In fact, he was wedged in so tight it took three people to pull him out again, and when he stood up, there was a hole in his pants that the still-running treadmill had eaten through and you could see his bright yellow underwear.

Seriously, it was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen (it was also unbelievable that anyone could look that good falling off a treadmill).

Apparently, it was also one of the funniest things most of the people on the face of the earth had seen. Because when Rory swiped the rehearsal tape and uploaded it onto YouTube, the hits went ballistic. Everyone already loved goofy, lovable Noah, but now he was goofy, lovable, clumsy Noah with bright yellow underwear, and so they loved him even more.

As soon as I heard about the clip, I called Rory to see what Noah's take on it was.
I thought he'd be furious. But Rory surprised me by saying she'd gotten Noah's okay to upload it and that he was quite proud of himself, actually. As he put it in the comments section of the video, "Thanks for the comments. As we all know, it takes some skill to somersault off a treadmill. Next season, with your help, I'm aiming for a triple-flip dismount. Oh, and I've taken your comments about the yellow underwear into consideration. Thanks for letting me know neon orange is far more slimming."

I think that's when I really fell for Noah
—when I saw he could laugh at himself like that. I would have been excruciatingly embarrassed at falling off a treadmill and showing the world my underwear. But not Noah. He seemed to think it was hilarious along with everyone else. I couldn't even imagine being that self-confident.

Rory catches up with me at the bus, another ode to
SMD—
again, pink and blue and silver. "What else did Dad have that you downloaded? Or shouldn't I ask?"

"You'll just have to find out." I laugh my best evil laugh.
"I downloaded everything that was there. I'm sure it only gets worse."

We both stop in our tracks as Uncle Erik drives past and honks at us.
"Eat my dust, suckers!" he calls out.

Rory groans.
"That's my dad. Where's yours?"

"Rome," I say smugly.
"Where he's very busy not embarrassing me."

"Lucky you."

* * *

"Wow.
How cool is this!" My eyes check out the interior of the bus as I climb on board. Inside, everything is—you guessed it—blue and pink and silver, to match the exterior.

"Keep on moving," Rory says, behind me. "If you stare at the décor too long, it will probably blind you."

"Um, okay." I start the long walk down the bus, running my hand along the wall as I go. After the driver's area, there's a sitting area with a mini kitchen, some bench seating, and a long, narrow table. A little up from this, there's a half-open door. I push it open a bit more to see that there's a bathroom with a real shower inside, too. Next up, there's a large section with ten bunks, each with its own flip-down TV and blinds that fold along the side for privacy. And then, right up the back, there's a huge chill-out zone—with a gigantic curved seat, some bean bags on the floor, and oversized cushions (pink and blue again, of course). There's also a massage table and screen set up in one corner.

"Oh, boy," Rory says, eyeing the massage table.
"I am looking forward to that massage. And wait till you see Kenan. His, um…hands are something else." She laughs.

"His hands, hey?"

"Oh, yes. It's all about his hands. So, we're the first ones here," Rory says, moving past me to flop onto the curved seating. She pulls a cushion up beside her and then lies down on her back, pulling her legs up on the seat as well. "Won't Melinda be pleased?"

I don't answer this one, but sit down next to Rory, something on my mind.
"Rory," I say.

"Mmm?" she answers me, eyes closed now.

"How come Allie didn't want to come? She gets along with everyone, doesn't she?"

Rory opens one eye to look at me.
"What do you mean?"

"I don't know.
It just seemed like there was a reason she didn't want to come, that's all."

She closes her eye again now.
"It's Mara. She can't stand her."

"But nobody seems to like Mara…"

"Allie
really
can't stand her. She thinks Mara has a thing about her."

I frown.
"Like, Mara's weird about her? Is she?"

Rory snorts at this but doesn't sit up.
"Of course! Mara's weird about everybody who’s not super preppy perfect. She's weird about people who don't spend an hour straightening their hair every day, or forty-five minutes putting their makeup on and another half hour choosing an outfit. Of course she's going to be weird about Allie. She probably thinks we should have left her out on a hillside to die like the ancient Spartans would have. You know something? When Allie was sick last year, pretty much everyone on the team came to see her, or sent her a gift, or a card. Mara never even asked me if she was okay. Not once. The funny thing is, she thinks there's something wrong with Allie when there's not—there's something wrong with
her
."

"Oh," I say, unsure of how to reply to Rory's speech.

"Yeah, well, that's Mara for you." Rory adjusts her cushion. "Can't deny it, though, she's a pretty amazing dancer."

"I guess.
Is the other understudy weird too? The guy one?"

Rory shakes her head.
"No way. José's
a sweetie. Everyone really likes him."

Across the bus, I notice some movement through the venetian blinds, out in the parking lot.
Some pink- and blue-bottomed and white-topped movement. I stand up suddenly, looking around me, getting the sudden, odd, urge to hide, then sit down again, realizing this is weird, then stand up again, not feeling right sitting down.

"What are you doing?" Rory opens her eye again.

"I think they're coming."

"And?"

"And…I don't know. I feel weird about this." My heart is going absolutely crazy in my chest, and I feel a bit sick. "You know I'm not used to this stuff. Everyone just assumes I am."

Rory swings her legs off the seat and sits up now.
"Just think of them as normal people, like your mom."

"But they're not!
They're the
SMD
team!"

"And your mom is an Oscar-winning actress."

"But first of all she's my mom! Anyway, this is different. I'm on the bus. And I'm not one of the team. You don't think that's weird?"

Rory grins at me now.
"Sure it's weird, but Hartleys get a lot of concessions, you'll find. Enjoy them."

"That's what I mean.
I don't want it to be like I'm pushing my way in or something." I jog from one foot to the other as I say this, like I'm about to make a break for it. Where, I don't know. Uncle Erik's gone, and the only way out is the way everyone is now making their way in.

I can hear them coming.
I take a quick peek down the bus to see who's first. Please, let it not be Mara, I think to myself. Please let it not be Mara.

And it's not.

It's worse.

It's Noah.

Our eyes meet for the umpteenth time today, and as he walks my way, Noah flashes another one of his gorgeous huge grins at me. "Hey, Thea. Rory said you'd be joining us," he says, only a few steps away now.

With his long legs, he reaches me in nanoseconds and then, before I know what's happening, he grabs me, pulls one hand over my head, spins me around, one hand on my shoulder blade, and lowers me into a dip.
Thankfully, I'm so taken aback, my body simply goes with it, even if I do forget to breathe. Then at the bottom of the dip, he looks me straight in the eye before pulling me up and setting me free.

Okay, so it's official now, I realize as my eyes remain locked onto Noah's, unblinking.
What's happened is that I fell over the balcony in Tasmania in a freak yoga accident, and I've died and gone to heaven.

"Yep, you really are a Hartley, aren't you?" he says to me.
"You guys always deliver."

"I…" I open my mouth to say I'm actually a Wallis, but then change my mind.
Like Rory mentioned, maybe sometimes it's good to be a Hartley.

Noah seems a little less certain of himself now that he's not flinging me around the bus and goes over to take a seat beside his partner.
"So, um, Rory said you've been dancing a lot more lately…"

"Sure.
A bit," I say, more than a bit dazed and confused. I glance over at Rory, who waggles an eyebrow at me. What has she been telling him? Ugh, she went and told him I'm interested in him, didn't she? That…

"Hi, Thea." Lucia steps up beside me now, touching me on the arm and interrupting my "I'm going to kill my cousin" train of thought.
It's hard to believe, but she's even more gorgeous in person—half Italian, she has the most stunning tan skin I've ever seen and these huge brown eyes.

"Hi, Lucia.
Hi, Tobias," I say, as her partner comes up behind her, relieved at the change in topic.