Jenna’s across from me on my dusty, blue Ikea couch. It’s got more than one party-stain on it. For the first time these flaws are standing out to me, and I’m covering one of the stains with my foot. Jenna’s knees are drawn up, her fuzzy-socked feet wiggling as she grips a glass of cranberry juice I’ve watered down to make less bitter. The good stuff is hard-core.

“Go on!”

I take a deep breath and continue, “My dearest Max, the way you brushed past me in the hallway wasn’t fair. We have to stop. You promised. It’s too hard to be this close to you and not be able to touch you.”

Jenna moans a long sigh. She pulls at her long brown hair with both hands, closing her eyes. “It’s so sad!”

“It’s tragic is what it is.” My fingers trace my mother’s cursive handwriting as though I can touch her through the paper. “He must have been something else. The mother I know would never have fallen for a married man. Look at this one. Olivia, my heart. Why do you keep sending back my letters? Jonas said you wouldn’t even open the last one. I am looking for a way to leave her but it’s complicated with the boys and our financial entanglements. I need a little more time. Let me see you. Even as I write this, I know you won’t read it and the pain is so great I want to die.”

Jenna slaps her hand over her heart and almost bursts. “He has his letters because she wouldn’t keep them!”

“Or even read them. I guess so. The ones from him are all after she’s quit the job, looks like. And this Jonas person hand-delivered them so that she couldn’t send them back in the mail and chance him getting found out. My poor mom. I bet she never told anyone. To have to carry that secret to your grave.” I hold them tight on my lap, shaking my head as I reach for my lemon-water.

“And to not tell you!”

“I know! She thought she was protecting me… from what, I don’t know.”

“What if Jonas flew them to her by helicopter?” Jenna acts out propeller sounds, ducking down to avoid being decapitated. “Ms. Calliwell, Max Stone has a letter for you. Excuse the mess the wind kicked up in your yard.”

I’m smiling at her portrayal, but roll my eyes at that last part. “As if we ever had a yard.”

Jenna makes a face, because she understands. We were both in the same boat growing up. I’ve known her since Junior High. We lived in side-by-side apartment complexes, so we’d walk to school together even through high school. And we both wanted to be dancers, Hip Hop and Contemporary. As other school friendships slid behind us to rest in the cemetery of our personal history, Jenna and I grew closer. I know that when I’m in an old folk’s home, she’ll be there with me be-bopping, trying to make our wheelchairs do wheelies.

“Read another one!” She kicks my legs. “And I fucking love your hair.”

“Thanks! Me too.” I rake my hands through it and hold up the length so I can see the bright red; the kind of red that doesn’t happen naturally; where it’s almost pink but not quite.

Sean’s assistant came and got me right after I walked in the door returning from Mr. Henderson’s office. I’d barely had a chance to read any of the letters before I was whisked off to Juan Juan, a high-end salon in Beverly Hills. It was a classic movie-moment where everyone was fabulous and I was awed into silence as they took over and transformed my personal style.

I have to admit though... there was a moment when they were slapping the chemicals onto my head, that I felt angry at the change. Why was my natural hair color not enough? I can’t help but think Sean did this for me because he doesn’t think I’m good enough as I was to be seen with them.

It hurt a little.

Brushing away that thought yet again, I take a deep breath, finding the strength to read my father’s letter to my best friend. “Okay, get this. When I go to sleep every night, there is a hole in my heart that aches for you. Ever since you left, I haven’t been able to breathe. You must let me see you. I can come tomorrow night. If you are reading this, it means you still love me. I love you beyond words, Olivia. Beyond any form of speech. I know the child is mine. I had you followed and you can’t convince me it belongs to anyone else. I know you too well. And then her reply. I haven’t read this one yet. I saw the date and folded it back up, overwhelmed. I needed to wait for you to get here.” Jenna nods, excited and nervous with me. “Thank you for being here with me. I’m glad I don’t have to face it alone.”

“Of course!” She puts down her juice and leans over to give me a hug. “Your mom was a mom to me, too.”

Pain tugging at my chest, I nod and watch her pick up her juice again, using it as an anchor as she tucks her feet underneath her and motions that she’s ready.

I take a deep breath and start reading. “My dearest Max. I read your letter and sent it back, as you can see. The child is yours, but if you ever–and I mean this, Max, you know I do–contact her or me again, I will come out publicly and tell the world you slept with the help. I will make it vile and embarrassing for you.” Looking up at Jenna, we’re both shocked. Quickly, I continue, “I tell you this because I know you will not chance such shame for your sweet boys. Just as I will not chance shame for our daughter. She will never know you. I will not have her be ‘the bastard baby of the billionaire.’ If you ever loved me, truly loved me, you will grant me this. If you do not, I will not be surprised, because I have doubted your love ever since you didn’t keep your word. Time will tell what kind of man you will be, Max. The decision is up to you.”

I come up for air and Jenna is listening, rapt. She whistles long and low. “Whoa. You mother was such a badass.”

I fold up the letter, choked up and stricken by the discovery. “That’s why she never told me,” I whisper. “Oh, Mom. Well, I found out.”

“How do you feel?”

“I have no idea how I feel. It keeps changing! I found a father and lost a father today. And one of my brothers hates me.”

“You don’t think he’ll come around?”

I tuck my toes under me and look at the stain. “You didn’t see his face. He sees me as beneath him. A piece of garbage created from a lie. I don’t blame him, but I wish he’d give me a chance to show him who I am.”

“I’ve seen all his facial expressions a million times, I’ve got them all memorized. I can only imagine which one he gave you.” She’s got all the attitude of a protective best friend and it makes me smile.

“Yeah, but in person, it’s much more intense. These Stone brothers, they aren’t what I thought they’d be.”

“Well, what you thought about them, you can’t think now, because you’re related, you sicko.”

I laugh and kick her with my feet. She squeals, cracking up. “Am I wrong?!! But I can still think it! They’re fair game for me! Wait. Do you hear that? What is that?”

I turn around and look to the window. I heard it, too. It sounds like a mob of people are outside. Jenna and I rise slowly off the couch, exchanging curious glances as we walk to the door. “I wish I had a peep hole.”

“I’ll look through the window!” She runs over and I watch her face as I begin to unlock the door. I open it before she has the chance to shout, “Oh no! Rue! Look out!”

A flash explodes in my face and then another one. And another. And twenty more! I cover my face in surprise and peek out to see a fuckload of reporters screaming my name. “Ms. Calliwell!” “Ms. Calliwell! What’s it like to be a millionaire overnight!” “Ms. Calliwell, did you know your father was Maxwell Stone?” “Ms. Calliwell! Ms. Calliwell!” “Ms. Calliwell, what’re you going to do with your millions!” “Ms. Calliwell! Who was that in the window? Is that your female lover?!” “Ms. Calliwell, are you gay?!”

Speechless, I stare at the flashing cameras, at the desperate or aggressive faces behind them. Jenna swings the door wide open with a purposefully grand entrance, coming to my rescue, “Excuse me! Everyone!”

They all go quiet, hoping for a profession of our lesbian love.

“Ms. Calliwell will take appointments for interviews if and only if you are from a reputable news source. Please form a line if you are with ABC, CNN, NBC, CBS, and of course, The Daily Show. Oh and if anyone’s here from Oprah’s network, come to the front.”

A slow grin spreads on my face. Jenna announces, “And for the record, we are not lovers. These are for men’s lips only!”

She grabs her boobs.

“Jenna!!” I shut the door.

Cameras blasted the second she did that, catching it all. Jenna and I put our backs to the door and look at each other.

We bust up laughing, but my smile fades quickly.

How did they know where I live?

Who told them that?

And worse, what do they really want?

To paint a good picture of me, or to smear my name?

Jenna’s smile is gone now, too. She and I are staring at each other, listening to the people quieting outside into normal conversation voices.

“How am I going to do this, Jenna-bean?”

She bites the inside of her cheek, thinking about it. Lost for an answer, she shrugs one of her shoulders up high. “I don’t know Ruefus baby, but you’re going to have to find a way. And maybe move so they can’t find you again. At night. With stealth-ninjas carting your boxes through the shadows into a truck that no one can see. My best advice.”

“I like my home,” I whisper. “I know it’s small… but this was my first place all my own. You were there when I bought most of this stuff. It is a bit ratty...”

“You can buy all new stuff now. Think of that!” She nudges me with her arm and smiles reassuringly. “You’re a modest chick, Rue, but maybe that’s why this is happening to you. To get you to widen the net a bit.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t get all new age-y on me. This is happening because my mother fell for the oldest trick in the book.” We both say, at the same time: “A married man who said he’d leave his wife.” I sigh. “I have to get ready for dinner. You wanna help me?”

She lays her head on my shoulder. “Like I have something better to do.”

I rest my cheek on the top of her head. “I hope this doesn’t change me too much.”

“It’s already changed your hair,” she mutters.

I snort. “Right?!”

“Right.” Pushing off from the door, she spins around and lifts one leg elegantly high in the air, then lands with both arms up like there are Olympic judges watching. “You’re too level-headed to ever really change, Ruefus. I promise!”