Being Hartley (26 page)

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"Mara can't even be human," Rory says as we play the video for the fifth time.
"Why would she do this?"

"She's getting back at you," Allie responds.
"She thinks I'm your weak spot."

"That's because you are." Rory, sitting beside her on the couch, reaches out and hugs Allie into her side.

The video, as it turns out, is cruel and hurtful, and the footage of that tap class has been butchered to make the three of us look like some kind of Hartley freak show (which, to be fair, we do kind of look like, with all that sweaty, springy hair, but still…). The worst bit is when I'm introduced with a floating title as the Other Hartley and then Allie as the Other Other Hartley. There are lots and lots of close-ups of Allie, as if to point out every single one of her differences, and the video even seems to suggest that Allie's been hidden away all this time. Like we're embarrassed about her or something.

The video could also have only come from one person
—Mara.

"Ugh." Rory stands up from the couch. "I'm going to…"

"Wait!" Asher pulls her back down beside him. "You haven't seen everything yet."

"There's more?" Rory looks horrified, sitting back down slowly on the couch.

"Yes," Asher tells her. "But it's 'good' more."

"Really?" I ask, not believing him.

"I think I can guess," Noah says. "Look." He reaches over and points to the first couple of comments.

As fast as we can take them in, we read them.
And then, slowly, Asher starts scrolling down the page so we can read more.

"They're all being so…" Allie starts.

"Nice," I finish off for her.

"Which is rare on YouTube, as we all know," Asher adds.

And they are, too. All of the comments are overwhelmingly positive, except for the ones that talk about the poster of the video. A couple of people even mention that they've met Allie out and about with Rory, or that they've heard Rory talk about her, or mention her, or remember that she was sick last year and say that they're hope she's all better now, or that she looks fantastic considering she had heart surgery recently and what an amazing dancer she is.

"And check this out, too," Asher adds, scrolling back up the page again.
"It was posted this morning and it's gone viral already. Almost one hundred thousand hits in…" He checks his watch, "just under six hours."

We stare at the video again.
"I think the only person who comes out of this looking bad is Mara," Noah says.

"If it really is Mara who posted it," Asher points out.

We all groan.

"Okay, so it's her.
But we've still got to prove it before we do anything, or say anything, about it. Anyway, how did she get the footage?"

"I was stupid enough to let her come to one of my classes.
As a favor. She would have known we tape all the classes, after she came that day. But this one…I don't know. She would've had to actively go in and steal it. Or have someone steal it for her."

Asher shakes his head.
"Why would anyone do that?"

"Spite," Noah says.

Allie turns to face him. "You're wrong about one thing, Noah." She swivels around. "There is one other person who comes out of this looking pretty bad."

"Who's that?" Noah frowns.
"Because it's not you."

Allie makes a face at him, but points at me.
"Come on, Noah. Even you've got to admit it—Thea is spectacularly bad when it comes to tap."

* * *

In the end, it's Rory's new agent who sorts out the YouTube fiasco. As it turns out, it
is
Mara behind the video (surprise, surprise) and (actual surprise) she winds up getting fired from
SMD
for the incident. Before Rory's agent sorts out the mess, we're intent on forming a posse and heading over to Mara's house, but again, it's Allie who stops us.

"It's what she wants," she tells us, just like she had the other day, when Mara had tried to get a rise out of Rory on stage.
She makes us promise we won't have any contact with her.

But the truth is, I do.
At least in my own small way. Before the video is taken down, I post my own comment underneath from "anonymous dancer."

Mara, you think you're missing one thing that's standing in the way of your success. And you are. But it's not your last name—it's humanity.

However hard you try and shine, you'll never have it until you can stop making excuses and look for the truth. Until you can do that, you'll never be as successful or as loved by the public as Rory. It's not just because of her last name that she's gotten where she is today. It's because she's a decent human being who's kind and honest, cares about others and loves what she does. You know, there's something wrong with you if you can't say, "I'm sorry your sister's sick" to someone you've worked with for years when they have a family member in the ICU. There's something missing. I don't know if you can find that piece of you and replace it, but I hope so.

Anyway, I hope you can put everything that's happened to one side for even five minutes and think about this. Because it's probably the only way forward for you. Good luck, Mara. I mean that. I know you've had to deal with unfairness in the past. This could be a great chance for everyone to start fresh.

After I post this, I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath. I know Mara will read it. She's the kind of person who will read every single comment just to see what people say about her. The thing is, if this was a movie, Mara would read what I had to say and realize I was right. She'd completely change her ways and head on over with a bunch of flowers for both Rory and Allie.

Unfortunately, this might be Hollywood, land of the happy ending, but this isn't a story.
And as you get older, you realize life isn't fair and that pretty much all you can do is try and keep the Maras out of your own—like my mom's so good at doing. Anyway, from what I've seen of Mara, I'm quite sure her reaction to my comment won't be to "think about this," but to want to come after me with a fork and poke my eyes out. But I meant what I said, and it made me feel better to say it, and all I can do is hope that she'll take even part of it in. Plus, I kept my promise to Allie. In a gray area-ish kind of way. That's all that matters, really.

The funny thing is, the YouTube video turns out to be less fiasco and more fantastic stepping stone to the perfect idea for the next chapter in Rory's working life.
It's as I'm writing my secret post to Mara that I get the kernel of an idea. Part of it comes from what I know about Rory herself—about her very essence. And part of it comes from things that have been said to me this trip. Things like Allie explaining Rory's love of dance vs. the politics of
SMD,
and Rory talking about her original contract and how what she'd loved had changed. Over the next twenty-four hours, I steal a few moments away with a writing pad to sketch out my thoughts, which end up being so good, I decide to save them all up and present them at Rory's celebration dinner the following evening.

Rory chose her favorite restaurant, The Little Door, for her dinner.
And now that we're all here and seated, I can see why. It's gorgeous—small, hidden away, and dark. Candles, ferns, and fountains complete the atmosphere. She reserved a small, cozy room called the piano room where the orange walls and blond floor make the evening seem even warmer and the company more intimate. Everyone's here—Mom, Dad, Uncle Erik, Rory, Allie, Asher, Noah, me.

It couldn't be more perfect.

Not even the news we got on the way here from Rory's agent could dampen our spirits. She'd heard through the grapevine that Mara was already snapped up for a new project—a Pussycat Dolls-style girls group that looks like it will be launching itself in a big way very soon. It's looking like it's going to be huger than huge, and Mara will no doubt go supernova with it. Which is everything she's always dreamed of. To be honest, it doesn't really bother me that Mara's getting what she wants. Maybe that's what she needs to be a better person?

I push Mara from my thoughts and hug my idea to myself, waiting until after my monkfish tagine to even think about bringing it up.
By this point, the room is practically rocking, we're all having such a great time.

After our waiter has cleared everyone's plates, I tap my spoon against my glass a couple of times
, and eventually, the commotion dies down, and everyone looks at me, surprised, waiting to hear what I have to say.

Suddenly, I feel awfully embarrassed.
"I, um…" I start. "I have something to say."

"Uh oh," Allie says, from across the table, but Rory shushes her.

"What is it, Thea?" Rory asks, genuinely interested.

"Well," I say, feeling foolish.
I'd thought it was such a good idea yesterday. And today. Even five minutes ago, in fact. But now I feel…I don't know…young and stupid. Like I don't know anything. I mean, what do I know about show business? I'm the outsider, remember?

"Thea?" Rory says, quietly.

I look up from the spot I'm staring at on the white tablecloth into her eyes. And that's when I realize I might not know anything much about show business, but I know my cousin. My cousin who I used to jump on the trampoline with and sing stupid songs. My cousin who I've spent the last week helping out, who isn't so far removed from that eight-year-old trampoline junkie as everyone might think.

Rory smiles at me encouragingly, and just as suddenly as it had washed over me, my feeling of foolishness disappears.
It
is
a good idea. I know it is.

"Okay," I say, starting over again, my attention focused only on Rory this time, so I don't chicken out.
"I think I know what you should do next."

"Really?" Rory says.
"What?"

"I got the idea from the, um, Ingrid incident.
And from the meeting with Sonja. And from lots of other things you said, I guess. Oh, and from watching you dance with Allie's group."

Rory nods, urging me on.
"Mmm?"

"Okay, basically, I think you should do your own show.
Kind of like the earlier
SMD
, but not about music videos. More like about dance essentials. A dance show that isn't about being perfect, or tall, or blond, or pretty. A show that's just about loving dance. About it being fun. And for everyone. So, one week, you could do a bit of tap, the next week some salsa, some ballet, swing…everything, really. And it would be for old people and young people. For everyone and anyone who loves to dance."

Rory stares at me in silence.

"Or, you know…not," I add, as the silence continues, and I start to think I'm way off and it's the worst idea she ever heard.

"Thea," she finally says
, and I wince and close my eyes, waiting for her to start laughing. "That is a really good idea."

I open one eye.
"Really?"

"Really." Rory becomes much more animated.
"I like it. A lot. My own show. My way."

"I like it too," Noah says, grinning beside me.
"When did you come up with this?"

I try and act cool and fail miserably.
"Oh, you know. It's something I've been working on for a while now. Well, okay…since yesterday." I laugh.

"What does everyone else think?" Rory glances around the table, seeking out opinions.

One by one, everyone agrees, and then, talking over each other, they add their own ideas to the mix.

Finally, I add some extra spice too.
"And you could have guest spots, and I could even help you out because I'll be here, living in LA, going to school with Allie."

Everyone stops talking again.

Allie cuts through the silence first. "Are you serious?"

"I hope so," I squeak, looking from my dad to my mom and back again.
Since Dad got back from Rome, we've had a couple of long talks about how things have been going for all of us lately and how we might be able to make them better in the future. After our last talk, going back to school with Allie had seemed like it might even be in the cards.

Across the table from me, my mom sighs a worn-out sigh.
"Fine. I guess I'm outvoted," she says. "Your father won't have to travel so much if he's here. And I can't see you letting go of the idea. Maybe I could bear a couple of years in LA while you finish high school…"

There are a lot of whoops and clapping at this news.

"Outvoted by a majority of Hartleys," I grin at my mom.

"Plus an Evans, a Hoffman
, and one Wallis," Noah adds, squeezing my hand under the table. And he looks almost as happy as I feel.

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