Apple's Angst (33 page)

“Yes, Sloan Starr. Who else named Sloan do we know? Of course Sloan Starr,” Happy said.

“I'm so sick of hearing his name,” Brooklyn said. “He's like the opposite of Britney and Madonna. He's known by two names.”

Happy laughed. Apple didn't.

“Come on! It's funny,” Happy said to Apple. “Brooklyn is right. I so can't picture him just as a Sloan. He's such a Sloan Starr!”

“I don't think it's so funny that my boyfriend was hitting on you,” Apple said. “And don't make fun of his name!”

Happy snorted loudly.

“He's so not your boyfriend,” she told Apple.

“What do you mean?” Apple asked. “We've been out a lot. Our picture was taken together a lot of times. Everyone
thinks
he's my boyfriend. He's going to be my date for Hazel's wedding.”

Apple knew the last part wasn't exactly true. In fact, it was a downright lie. But Apple still had a few days to work on him. She knew that there was time to convince Sloan Starr that going to the wedding with her wouldn't be that big a deal. She would even tell him that he'd get to meet her mother, if that's what it would take. Apple pictured them walking into the reception arm in arm. She also made a mental note to ask Celia to restraighten her hair. It was starting to get wavy, another thing to add to Apple's plate of worries. She just couldn't, or didn't want to, believe that Sloan Starr had hit on Happy.

“He was hitting on me! Right in front of everyone. You left, so you didn't see. But he asked for my digits. He said he could get me a meeting with some casting directors,” Happy said. She didn't seem to notice that these words pained Apple.

“Maybe he was just being nice. Maybe he really was trying to help you,” Apple suggested.

“Trust me, I know when someone is just being nice and when they're trying to get with me,” said Happy knowingly, picking a piece of fluff from her dress.

“Well, you don't know everything,” muttered Apple.

“What did you just say?” Happy demanded.

“Come on, guys,” Brooklyn said. “Let's not turn this into something it's not.”

“It's called
reality
, and Apple needs a reality check—and fast,” said Happy.

Zen, Hopper, and everyone else sitting on the Spiral Staircase around them, including Lyon, suddenly became silent. They couldn't believe what they were witnessing.

“You
need a reality check,” retorted Apple.

“No, you do!” Happy said, grabbing her bag and standing up taller.

“Guys, stop!” pleaded Brooklyn in a meek voice.

“I'm not stating anything that's not entirely obvious to everyone except precious Apple. Oh, we wouldn't want to hurt Apple's feelings,” mimicked Happy. “Oh, Apple, the celebrity. Oh, we can't tell her THE TRUTH!
She
doesn't tell the TRUTH! I know you kissed Zen. You think I don't know? Emme called me and told me! Yeah, your good friend Emme!” Happy said, her voice rising. “I told you she was shady and you wouldn't listen. I've been keeping it in because I didn't really care and I thought you'd eventually tell me. But you were never going to, were you?”

Apple's mind immediately went to Lyon and his reaction. She thought he'd be so hurt by hearing this, especially this way, that it didn't register that Happy had said Emme had told her. She looked quickly at Lyon, who didn't look hurt or jealous. He looked like he felt sorry for Apple, which made Apple even angrier. Why did a nobody like Lyon feel sorry for her? She was the
one whose face was plastered everywhere. She was the one hanging out with fashionable new friends. She was the one having all the fun.

Why did she care so much about what Lyon thought?

“Okay, that's enough, Happy,” Apple responded, her voice rising as well. “You're the one who can't see the truth. You're the one who can't accept the fact that I have a great job and new friends, and that for the first time I'm the one in the spotlight. And you cheated on Zen with that guy at your therapist's office! So you can't be a hypocrite. Who are you to talk!”

Zen looked shocked, as did Happy, as did Brooklyn. Not only was Apple yelling, she had divulged a big secret.

“Well, Zen doesn't care. He has a foolie friend in Emme!” Happy finally sputtered out.

“What?” screeched Apple. She looked at Zen, who looked to the ground slyly while Hopper pounded him on the back and said, “Way to go, man!”

“Emme told me that last night. Didn't you know?” Happy said, egging Apple on. “Apparently, they've been foolie friends for weeks!”

Could that be true? Was that the reason Zen hadn't been in touch with her? Had it had nothing to do with the fact that he didn't know what to say to Apple and everything to do with the fact that he was fooling around with Emme? Or was Happy just trying to ruin Apple's friendship with Emme? Happy hadn't liked Emme from the start. There was no way that this was true.

“You're such a liar, Happy,” Apple screamed. She could feel her face bursting red. “You'll do anything to be the center of attention.”

Happy was so mad, she raised a finger, as if to shake it at Apple. Instead, she just stormed off. Apple looked at Zen for confirmation of what Happy had just said. But he refused to look at her. Apple stormed off too, leaving Brooklyn meditating on her mat, Lyon looking stunned, Hopper shaking his head, Zen looking sly, and the rest of the school whispering.

“H
ey, babe. I see you got into a fight today with your best friend,” said Sloan. Apple was sitting behind her desk at
Angst
. Every time she thought of her fight with Happy—which was every second—she shook so hard she was still furious. Every time she thought of Happy, her heart raced and she broke out in a sweat. She needed to talk to Emme, who, for the first time, wasn't at the office before Apple. She hadn't returned any of Apple's desperate messages either.

“Hey! I thought you'd never call me back. I've left you, like, four messages today,” said Apple. She knew she sounded like a nag, but she couldn't help it. “What are you talking about, a fight with my best friend?”

“Are you in front of your computer?” Sloan asked.

“Yes. I'm at work,” Apple responded.

Sloan told her to type in a Web address.

Apple typed in the address and couldn't believe her eyes. There was a photograph of her and Happy.
Happy was pointing in her face, looking furious. Only Happy could pull off looking so beautiful while being mad. Before Apple remembered that she was furious at her, she felt a moment of pride for her friend.

“Where did they get that?” Apple wondered. The photograph was obviously taken during the scene at school that day.

“Someone must have taken it with their cell phone,” Sloan said.

She read the caption: “Teen advice columnist needs help!”

“This is awful,” said Apple. “I think I'm going to cry.”

“Don't cry. All press is good press,” said Sloan. “You know you've made it when you're on this website.”

“Well, do I look okay?” Apple said.

“You look gorgeous,” Sloan said. “But, babe, I got to go.”

“So you want to take me out tonight and make me forget this awful day?” Apple asked.

“I wish, but I don't think I should be seen with you right now,” Sloan said.

Apple couldn't believe it. Sloan didn't even pretend that he was sad about this. She couldn't believe that not only had he become so hard to get in touch with, but he didn't even want to be seen with her.

“What do you mean? You just told me that all press is good press.”

“Well, maybe not
all
press,” said Sloan. “I'll catch up with you sometime. Maybe I'll see you around.”

“What about the—” But Apple didn't get the chance to ask Sloan if he would be her date for her aunt's
wedding, even as a favor. He had already hung up.

When the e-mail popped up in her inbox from Fancy Nancy, Apple really wasn't even all that shocked.

“Oh, Apple, I'm so sorry!” cried Michael. Apple was walking home. She had seen that it was an
Angst
number on her phone and thought it might be Fancy Nancy, telling her that she had changed her mind, that she had made a mistake. It wasn't.

“I had no idea what was going on. Nancy just told me that Emme came to see her, and then she told me that she had fired you! Over e-mail! Anyway, tell me Emme is lying! Please tell me,” Michael begged. Obviously, it had gotten back to Michael that Emme had ratted Apple out, had gone to Fancy Nancy and told her that she had been doing the Apple's Angst column for weeks.

“She's not. I deserved to be fired,” Apple said. She was walking at a snail's pace. She couldn't believe that Emme was so evil. She knew, in her gut, that it was also true she had been fooling around with Zen all this time.

“Oh, Apple! I feel awful,” Michael moaned.

“Why do you feel awful? I'm the one who did it,” Apple said quietly. She wasn't sure what she felt worse about—that Emme had done all of that to her, or that she had let Emme do Apple's Angst in the first place. Apple may have been naive when it came to Emme, but she had agreed to let Emme do her work. She had only herself to blame for that.

“I feel awful because interns are like my babies, and this reflects badly on me too! Why didn't you come to me if you felt overwhelmed?” Michael moaned.

“I'm sorry,” cried Apple. “I thought I could handle it. Everyone else seems to handle everything on their own.”

“I wish you had said something,” Michael said. “I can't believe that Emme went behind my back as well, directly to Fancy Nancy!”

“You call her that too?” Apple said, shocked to hear the words “Fancy Nancy” come from Michael's mouth.

“Of course! Everyone does,” Michael said.

Apple laughed. She couldn't believe she had managed a laugh when her whole world had fallen apart. Apple had no idea how she was going to break the news that she had been fired from her intern job. She would be the laughing stock of the entire school. She couldn't bear to imagine her mother's reaction. Her mother, Apple knew, would be not only furious but disappointed, which was somehow worse. But why shouldn't her mother be disappointed? Apple
was
a disappointment.

Apple wondered how long she could go before telling anyone. Could she pretend to still be going to the office? Could she apologize profusely to Fancy Nancy and try to get her job back?

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Michael said. “Anything?”

“Actually,” said Apple, after a pause. “There is one thing …”

“T
his totally makes up for everything!” screeched Aunt Hazel. “You are now officially the best bridesmaid ever.”

“Shh! Don't move,” said Celia. “You must calm down.”

As a wedding present, and an “I'm sorry for being the worst bridesmaid in history” present, Apple had presented Celia, the celebrity makeup and hair artist, to her aunt on her wedding day, which was today. Michael had pulled through with Apple's favor. She was sure he had had to work to convince Celia to do this, but she was here. Her aunt was in the makeup chair, dressed in a beautiful gown Michael had also managed to grab from the magazine's wardrobe closet. The magazine was going to do a spread on celebrity weddings, and her aunt had fit beautifully into a gown worn by Julia Roberts in a recent movie. Because her aunt had always been more like her sister, Apple knew her size
exactly. Hazel was stunned when Apple had presented the gift.