Elsie

“Another beer, on me,” Larson says, setting a tray of four bottles of Budweiser on the table between us, his long blond hair hanging down as he leans over.

“Cheers, dude. Next one’s on me,” Xander says, picking up a bottle and putting it to his lips. We all decided last night that Xander needed to experience a normal bar. In our attempt to disguise him, he’s wearing a baseball cap and a scruffy hoodie. We also instructed him not to smile so that his famous dimple doesn’t give him away.

Tarzan’s is quieter than normal tonight but there’s still enough people to give it some atmosphere. At least there is enough vibe to give Xander the experience of what a bar where cocktails don’t cost more than most people make in a day is like. In fact, I don’t think Tarzan’s even sells cocktails.

Larson sits down beside Isabel and the three of us pick up the remaining beers.

“To Isabel, for being such a great friend and letting us steal her apartment,” I say and the four of us clink our bottles.

“And for kicking all your asses at Monopoly last night,” Isabel says, grinning.

“Hey, I came a close second,” Xander says.

“Second don’t count for shit,” Isabel says.

“Shh, Xander, don’t let her know you only let her win because she’s given us her apartment,” I say and wink at him. In truth, the four of us had a blast playing the game. It didn’t matter who won to me because I was enjoying it having so much.

“I don’t know what my excuse was,” Larson says.

“Your excuse is you have a roommate and that’s why I can’t stay with you,” Isabel says, quirking a brow at Larson.

“You can have peace and quiet at my place tonight,” I say.

This morning Isabel and I decided to swap apartments until the media story goes away and the paparazzi get off the curb outside my place. Larson drove by on his way to her place last night and several guys with cameras were hanging around my building.

They won’t be looking for Isabel so it makes sense for her to use my apartment instead of having to sleep on her couch. Plus, Xander and I had sex again last night. I tried to be quiet, Xander even put his hand over my mouth but Isabel still mocked me at breakfast. If she stays at my place she doesn’t have to listen to us.

“Isabel, even though you’ll be across town you’ll still probably be able to hear Elsie tonight,” Xander says.

“It wouldn’t surprise me one bit,” Isabel says.

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” I say in mock outrage. Until I met Xander I had no idea how loud I was during sex. Maybe I wasn’t until I met him. The noises are subconscious, he just makes me let go and lose myself.

My phone sits in front of me on the table, and it rings. It’s my mother, we’ve been playing phone tag all day. I can’t ignore her, she deserves some sort of explanation as to why her daughter’s in the news.

Putting it to my ear, I stand and hurry out the front door to talk to her in the quiet of the parking lot.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Elsie, what’s happening? Are you okay?” she asks in her concerned voice.

“Everything’s fine, I’m staying at Isabel’s. There’s lots of paparazzi at my house and there’s probably some at yours, too, so I can’t come visit but everything’s good. There’s no need to worry.”

“There has been a strange car parked outside with a man sitting in it.”

My shoulders slump. Logically I knew there’d be one, but I really wish they’d leave my family out of this. “That would be one of them.”

“Where did that picture come from? Did you really meet Xander Whitman or was it Photoshopped?”

“It wasn’t Photoshopped. Isabel made me do a boudoir photo shoot and he happened to walk in. It was all an accident.” I brace for her judgment at her daughter doing boudoir photos.

“That’s a shame, I thought maybe you went on a date with him or something. You know he is the world’s sexiest man, right? He is so cute in that show Lunatics.”

I’m shocked that my mother just said that, or that she knows the show, or that she didn’t blink about the boudoir photos. She always seems so old-fashioned. I never thought she’d be so nonchalant about her lingerie-clad daughter’s photo being the talk of the country.

“Well, he’s actually here with me now,” I say hesitantly.

“What? Are you serious?” she says in a high-pitched voice.

“I am, actually. I think we’re in a relationship,” I say, glad I’ve had a few of beers.

“My daughter’s in a relationship with Xander Whitman? That’s amazing. What’s he like? When are you bringing him home to meet me?”

“Not until the paparazzi leave.”

“I’ll come to you.”

“You can’t. They will follow you and then they will hound me,” I say, thinking of the drone.

“What? I can never see my daughter again? What about the test results from the doctor?”

The mention of the test results knocks the wind out of my lungs. “Don’t be silly, it’s just short-term until the media story dies down.”

“And the doctor? You said you were going to get the results soon.”

“I am. I think next week or early the week after.”

“And they’re going to give you a definitive answer this time and not just send you for more tests?”

“That’s what Dr. Higgins said,” I say, sighing. Until now I hadn’t thought about the tests since Xander pinned me up against the wall of his hotel room.

“You shouldn’t go by yourself, I want to go with you.”

“Maybe, it depends if you still have paparazzi following you or not.” I hadn’t planned to bring anyone with me.

“Some things are more important than stupid people with cameras.”

“Anyway, they’re all inside waiting for me so I better get back to them.” I don’t want to think about it right now, I want to stick my head back in the sand and carry on pretending everything’s okay.

“Make sure you keep me posted,” she says in her stern don’t-mess-with-me voice I often heard in my teenage years.

“I will, promise,” I say and end the call.

I pull Tarzan’s door open but as soon as I step inside I realize my nice beer buzz is gone. I’d expected her to freak out about my connection to a sex scandal, not bring up my medical tests. Now that she has, I can’t stop thinking about them.

What am I even doing here with Xander?

It started out as me having fun while I can, but I never expected my heart to get wrapped up in it.

Larson and Isabel are talking, their heads close together and their hands exploring each other. Xander is looking at his phone, his mouth tight. I shouldn’t have abandoned him for so long.

“Sorry about that. My mother can talk for ages.”

Xander looks up at me and says, “She must be worried.”

“She wasn’t. Actually, she was more interested in meeting you,” I say unable to suppress a laugh.

Xander shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Are you going to take me there for dinner?”

“One day when the paparazzi leave.”

He clenches his fist and looks back at his phone.

“Nothing from Luna yet?” I ask.

“Total silence,” he says, shrugging.

“What are you two talking about?” Isabel asks, leaning forward.

“Nothing, but I don’t feel that well all of a sudden, I want to go home,” I say. I’ve lost all interest in being here. I want to go back to Isabel’s, curl up on the sofa and veg out.

“Fine with me,” Xander says. This Luna situation is really bothering him. Maybe I can get him to talk about it some more, like he was at the house. We couldn’t talk last night because Isabel was there but tonight it’s just the two of us.

“Maybe you can find out what’s going on with Luna,” I say quietly.

Xander leans into me, puts his lips to my ear and says, “I already know. She’s fucking my father.”