Forcing Gravity (3 page)

The real story of how I’d known Garrett since I was a kid came out the
third
week, complete w
ith a picture of the two of us
taking a surf lesson when we were kids
and some other shots of us from the present day
, but the speculation increased when
apparently
someone in my ‘inner circle’ shared that I’d always been in love with him and had been biding my time, hoping we would end up together. Yeah, right. Garrett was like a brother to me, more so than Ethan even was.
I still wondered who that person in my ‘inner circle’ was exactly. I had a feeling he or she didn’t know anything about me.

My dad
had
a conniption the first time he saw my picture on the cover of a gossip magazine. He literally flipped his lid in the middle of Target, and I had to calm him down
while the cashier and everyone around us stared
. He actually believed that I was hooking up with Garrett, but more than that, he couldn’t stand the fact
that his daughter was a pseudo-
celebrity. He was used to see
ing
his former wife on the cover of the various rags, but I’d never b
een a part of that
area
of her life
, so it rocked his world to say the least.

At first h
e threatened not to let me see Garrett agai
n,
not because he didn’t want me dating him, but because he didn’t want my life catalogued for the whole world to see. Of course I wanted no part of the life in the spotlight that my mother lived in, and he knew that. So we had a long talk, and I convinced him I wasn’t dating Garrett and that I felt pretty safe that I wouldn’t be featured in any more tabloids since I wasn’t going to do anything tabloid-worthy in the near future. He thankfully calmed down after that.

Then
Celebrity Weekly
came out the next week, and the cover
f
eatured a split shot of me wiping tears from my eyes as I stood outside a restaurant
in Ft. Lauderdale
and Garrett leaving a
club
in L.A. with a busty brunette
. The headline was ‘It’s Over Already’ with subheads reading ‘Garrett moves on’, ‘Logan inconsolable’ and ‘Inside their break-up’. Hello! There
was
no break-up?! Logan was inconsolable because her dad was making her feel all mushy about leaving for college, and she realized how much she would miss him being three thousand miles away. It was just a convenient shot for the lurking
photogs
who were probably expecting to catch me cheating on Garrett or some other nonsense having to do with our ‘relationship’.

My dad got pissed all over again
when he saw that cover
, but thankfully we were at home, so I let him rant and get it out of his system. He cursed, his face got red, and he threatened to call the editor of the magazine and tell her off, but I pulled him back from the ledg
e just in time. I made him swear
he would keep things in perspective and remember that nothing they were saying really painted me in all that bad of a light. Sure, it was annoying, but it was also sort of comical.

He said he couldn’t make any promises to keep himself in check if they printed anything scathing or scandalous about me, but until then he’d try to keep things in perspective. Of course, since then he’d been buying
Celebrity Weekly
on the day it c
ame out and combing it for pictures
or mentions of his little girl. He was always the first to tell me what he’d found.

“What exactly are they saying about me this week?” I asked him, wondering how anyone could remotely be interested i
n my life. I was not that fascinating
. “Was there a picture?”

“There was one of G
arrett and some girl at a movie
premiere. Here, I’ll read the blurb to you.” He cleared his throat. “‘The world’s second favorite fallen angel was spotted at the premiere of
Rolling Dice
with pop singer, Claudia Dillo
n, the third girl he’s been
seen
with since ending things with his childhood love and girl next door, Logan Kessler.
Later i
n the night, the
two
stars
were seen holding hands and kissing. Could this angel be off the market yet again?’ That’s gripping stuff, I tell you what.”

“Yeah, I’m riveted. Dad, you really shouldn’t buy that garbage. It’s all
fake
.”

But it’s also freaking entertaining, and that’s why I read it each week. Yup, I am a
total
hypocrite
when it comes to celebrity gossip
.

“Hey now, if my little girl is
mentione
d, I’m keeping the article.”
             

He’d done the same with any articles from our hometown paper that I was mentioned in for pla
ying volleyball in
high school, which I figured
was a parent thing, but this was a little ridiculous. At le
ast my volleyball stats had been
an accurate
record
of my life.

I sighed.
“Even if it’s all lies?”

“Yup, even then.”

“Whatever makes you happy, old man,” I said, missing him
so much it made my chest ache
.

It suddenly hit me that I wouldn’t be going home at the end of
August
. In fact, I probably woul
dn’t see
him
until Family
Weekend in Oc
tober. That was a long time
from now
.

“I miss you, kid,” he sa
id then, echoing my sentiments, and
I felt myself getting teary-eyed.

“Did I make the right decision?” I asked him for probably the hundredth time.

As psyched as I was about going to USC,
I didn’t factor in how much I’d hate being across the country and three time zones away from my father. It was going to be a tough adjustment.

“Absolutely,” he said, with no hesitation. “You’re going to love going to school there. Go Trojans!”

“Go Trojans,” I echoed
, knowing he was doing his best to keep it together, as well
.

“Alright, kid, take care, and I’ll talk to you soon
,
okay?”

I nodded, feeling a thickening in my throat. “Okay. Love you, Daddy.”

“I l
ove you, too.”

And then he was gone.

I
let myself get teary eyed for a few minutes before I
set to work on unpacking what I could, separating the boxes I needed to unpack from those that I wouldn’t need to unpack until I moved into my dor
m. The task took me a few hours
and
eventually
took my mind
off
of being homesick,
and before I knew it, it was almost
eight
o’clock.
As far as I knew, my mother and sister hadn’t come home yet, so I jumped in the shower, figuring I’d get ready for dinner and head down at the appropriate time.

With a towel wrapped around me, I laughed out loud when I took in
the
array of new clothes my mother had purchased for me. Having been raised by my father, I’d learned all about surfing and football and how to fix a flat tire. I learned very little about make-up and hair products and high heels. I lived in jeans and t-shirts and flip flops, and my mother knew this, but there before me in the huge walk-in closet, was the wardrobe of the girl she
’d always
wanted me to be.

She’d purchased dresses in every color and style imaginable, little slinky tops, and even a pair of leather skinny pants. There was also an array of boots, sandals and heels, all in different colors and styles, not
to mention, at least ten bags in
different sizes and colors. It was completely over-the-top, and I’d never wear most of it. I also noticed a variety of jewelry on my dresser, and
when I’d been in the bathroom, I’d discovered that she’d bought out the MAC store just for me. I realized what was happening; my mother was making me her pet project in an attempt to transform me in time for the first day of school.
Fan
-
tastic
.

Sighing, I reached for one of the least threatening dresses, a strapless, green sundress that came to just above my knee
s
. Forgoing the heeled sandals I knew she’d expect me to choose, I slipped on my leather flip flops and headed downstairs.

Something smelled incredible, and I wandered into the kitchen to check it out.

“Damn, that smells amazing!” I said loudly to the rotund Hispanic man who was whisking something at the stove.

“
Mija
!” he said, recognizing my voice as he turned around. A wide smile lit up his face. He crossed the room and smothered me in a bear hug. “When did you get home?”

“Hi Julio!
I got in
this afternoon.”

“And you didn’t come down to see me, why?” he demanded in his thick accent.

“I’m sorry,” I said, as he pulled back to appraise me. “I was unpacking, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “You’ve never bothered me once in
the
fifteen years since I’ve known you.” Then he cupped his hand up to his mouth. “Not like Ms. Skylar, but you didn’t hear me say that.”

“Julio!” I chastised, but
I
was laughing as I said it
.

Julio just gave me a knowing look. He’d
been cooking for my mother since my parents’ divorce, and as far as I was concerned, there wasn’t anyone who could make food taste as good as he could
– even the low carb crap my mother usually made him prepare
. I considered him to be a part of the family, even if my mother and sister still thought of him as ‘the help’. I’d personally reamed Skylar out several
times for the way she
treated him, barging into the kitchen and demanding he make her and her friends a snack, always forgetting to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.

I sort of hoped a little
of me would rub off on her
while I was livi
ng
at home
, because I had serious fears that if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up just like my mom – selfish, entitled and elitist. I didn’t want that for her. Sure, the world had been presented to her on a silver pla
tter, from both her parents, and
because of that, she’d never learned the value of being nice and
working hard. She just assumed everyone should fall at her feet
, and with that attitude, she’d never make it in the real world. Granted, she was only twelve, but still.

“I’ll kick her spoiled little butt. Just say the word, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you again,” I told Julio
, taking a seat at the bar. He immediately placed a plate of cheese and crackers in front of me.

“Eat,
Mija
. You look
too skinny.”

“When have I ever turned down food?” I asked, shoving a piece of cheese in
to
my mouth.

Julio just smiled at me and returned to his pots and pans. I loved that he called me his daughter. He didn’t have any kids of his own, and it made me feel special, especially since I was missing my own father so much already.

“
Ju
-
lio
!” rang out my mother’s high-pitched voice just before she burst through the kitchen doors
a few minutes later
.

And there she was, Alana Davis, the woman most people would kill to call their mother, but I knew better. Sure, we shared some things, like the color of our hair and
the same tall, willowy build
, but the resemblances ended there, and I was so grateful that I took after my dad.

“Yes ma’am,” Julio
said, turning around.

“Is dinner almost ready?” she demanded.

God, would it kill her to ask nicely?

“Five minutes ma’am,” he said.

She looked dismayed but didn’t express the feelings of contempt I knew were simmering just below the surface
.
“Very well.
I’ll just have a drink before we sit down.
Oh, Logan, when did you get here?” she asked, finally noticing me sitting ten feet from her.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “My flight got in at three
, Mom. I sent your assistant my
itinerary.”

“Oh, yes, right. That was today. Okay, then. Well, dinner is in few minutes. Would you like a drink?”

I frowned at her,
knowing how my dad would have reacted upon hearing her ask me that. He was firmly against me drinking, but she’d been offering me cocktails since I’d turned sixteen
.
Out o
f respect for what he’d want, I turned her down.
Although, having some alcohol in my
system around her might make the evening
more tolerable.