ADA

"Do you think I'd get fired for murdering one of my coworkers?" I ask.

The pages of the magazine crinkle beneath my fingertips as I leaf through it, searching for photos with my credit on them. I'm kicked back on the sofa, the cold leather easing the sting from my most recent sunburns.

I've got It Happened One Night streaming on the television, and it's almost like the cozy nights I used to spend with Grams.

The picture I took of Liam and his friends at the club made the cover of three different magazines this week. It's literally a dream come true. Every time I see the words photograph by Ada Datchery in print, I feel like a firefly, all lit up from the inside.

"Since I'm not old enough to have a job, I may not be the best person to ask." My brother doesn't even glance up from his Switch. "But I'm gonna guess you wouldn't get a lot of pics of celebrities inside the slammer."

"Hmmm." I drum my fingers against my magazine. "Maybe if they gave me a cell by the drunk tank."

"That could work." Aiden nods. He's got a box of Cap'n Crunch sitting on the couch next to him. He reaches in and pulls out a fistful, shoving it in his mouth.

"That'll be my backup plan in case the whole dating-a-celebrity thing doesn't pan out."

"Fake dating." Aiden corrects, tongue digging into his cheek in concentration as he jabs at the buttons on his controler.

I hesitate. Discussing my relationship status with my brother is basically the last thing I ever want to do. But the pictures of Liam and me kissing in the park are going to be plastered all over the internet any second now if they aren't already. It's only a matter of time before my family figures out there's more going on between us than I've been telling them.

"It maybe isn't so fake anymore," I mumble, twirling my necklace between my fingers.

Aiden looks up from his game, narrowing his eyes at me. He huffs out a laugh. "Funny."

"I'm not joking."

"You're seriously telling me that you are dating the Liam Anders? How is that even possible?" Aiden's mouth is hanging open, and I can see some chewed up bits of cereal in there. Yuck.

"Hello." Mom staggers through the door, poking her head around the large bag of groceries she's carrying.

"Hi, Baby Girl. Hey, Bud." Dad trails her into the kitchen, hefting a couple more sacks.

"How was your day?" Mom calls over the rustling of produce bags and clatter of cabinets being thrown open.

"Um, it was fine," I call, looking at Aiden and pressing a finger to my lips.

Telling my parents about Liam is something I need to do myself. To say I'm not excited about it is an understatement.

"There's no way Liam Anders is dating you," Aiden whispers, gaping at me like I just turned into one of the aliens from his video game.

"Excuse you," I hiss. "Your sister happens to be a super cool person who lots of people would want to date, celebrities included." I snatch a handful of cereal out of the box and toss it at him.

Aiden swats it out of the air. "Oh, yeah? Name one cool thing you've done in the past month."

I dart a look toward the kitchen. Keeping my voice down, I say, "I kissed Liam Anders."

"Oh my God. I know." Aiden glares at me. "And so does everyone at my school. Thanks for that, by the way. It's all anyone's talking about."

"Well..." I avert my gaze, staring at the rug, "there's probably going to be a couple more pictures online after tonight."

Aiden groans. "You are seriously disgusting. I'm going to have to drop out of school."

"Sorry." I shrug. "At least you've got proof your sister's cool." I toss my ponytail over my shoulder.

"Look, no offense, sister, but Liam's, like, the coolest of cool guys. And you're, well, you."

I shove his arm. "I happen to have over one hundred thousand followers on Instagram. Thank you very much."

"Yeah, cause people think you're Liam's girlfriend."

"Or maybe they follow me because I take amazing pictures."

Aiden snorts. "Right."

"Liam wouldn't be dating me for real if I wasn't cool," I snap.

"I heard that," Dad yells from the kitchen.

Craaaaaaap. I squeeze my eyes closed, thumping my head back against the couch cushions.

Aiden chuckles. "Dude, you are so screwed."

I kick him in the shin with my toe. "Not funny."

"Ada, get in here. Now, please." Dad's voice has taken on a semi-hysterical pitch.

Well, this is going to be fun. I roll my eyes, clutching my magazines to my chest like armor. My feet drag across the hardwood as I trudge into the kitchen.

My parents set aside their groceries. The dark, wooden cabinets and stainless steel refrigerator stand ajar, gleaming in the track lighting.

"You two are dating for real now?" Mom asks, the little groove between her eyebrows deepening.

I look down at the polished tile, setting the tabloids on the counter. "Um, kind of?"

"And how long has this 'kind of' dating been going on?" Dad demands.

I have to battle the sigh his overprotective-dad mode triggers. "For, like, ten seconds. It isn't a big deal."

"Not a big deal," Dad repeats. "We've heard that before."

"People date all the time, Dad. It's not like it matters."

"But, honey," Mom's voice is conciliatory, "he's a celebrity. Doesn't that seem a little risky? I don't want to see you get hurt."

"He's just a person. And why do you assume I'm the one who would get hurt?"

She holds up her hands. "You're right. That was narrow-minded of me."

Dad looks at her like she's started speaking a different language.

"You guys need to relax. Besides, spending time with him has helped my career. Look."

I grab the magazines off the counter, flicking open the cover to show them my name printed there in black and white.

Mom and Dad exchange a loaded glance, but Mom wraps an arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze. "Your photographs are fantastic, sweetheart." She picks up one of the tabloids, examining the picture I took. "Gosh, he is handsome, isn't he?"

"Sure. Just ask him." I force a laugh, not wanting my parents to know exactly how 'handsome' I think Liam is. I've spent the past hour staring at that shot, and I still get all fluttery every time I look at his face.

Mom shoots Dad a meaningful look, jerking her head toward me.

"Oh. Right." He plasters on a smile, which doesn't reach his eyes. "Nice work, Hon."

"Dad!" I snap. Jeez. Would it kill the guy to be a little supportive here?

"What?"

"You look like you're in actual pain right now. My shots are being published in magazines. This is a good thing. What is your malfunction?"

"It's not the pictures." He rubs a hand through his graying, brown hair.

"What is it then?"

"It's that boy."

Mom groans, covering her face with her hands. "Patrick—"

Dad's gaze is trained on the magazine Mom's holding.

"Liam?" I ask. "What about him?"

"I don't like him dating my daughter without bothering to come and meet her parents."

"Did you miss the part where I said ten seconds? When would he have come over?" I slump against the counter, exasperated.

"Well, you've been 'fake' dating for weeks. He hasn't had five minutes in all that time to come over here?"

"I'm pretty sure it isn't customary to meet your fake girlfriend's parents."

Dad straightens up, folding his arms. "Well, I want to meet him."

"What?"

"You heard me. If he's got time for all these dates the two of you have been going on, I don't think it's asking too much for him to stop by."

"Not asking too much? Dad, Liam's a celebrity. He doesn't have time to just come over for Scrabble Sunday."

I look to my mom for help, expecting her to at least recognize how completely absurd this is. Her lips are tugged down in a frown. She gives me a small shrug, making it clear whose side she's on. It sure isn't mine.

"I thought you said he was just a person?" Dad expertly tosses my own words right back at me.

I scowl at him. "He is."

"Great. Then we," Dad gestures between himself and Mom, "are meeting that boy."

"Fine." I throw my hands in the air, piling on the drama in case they missed the fact that I'm not thrilled about this plan of theirs.

"Fine," my parents say in unison like they freaking rehearsed it.

I glare at them, "Are you both secret Liam Anders fanatics or something?"

"He's gonna wish." My dad grins.

I groan and stomp out of the kitchen. How am I supposed to ask Liam to come over here and meet my family?

My phone chirps from inside the pocket of my sweat pants, and I pull it out. It's a message from Elodie.

Elodie: Came in second in the latte art throw down in case you were wondering.

Oh, no.

I'd gotten so wrapped up in Liam, I totally forgot about her competition tonight. The one I promised her I'd be at.

My finger jabs the call button. This apology is going to take more than a text.

"Hello?" Elodie answers with none of her usual enthusiasm. I wince.

"Els, I am so, so, so sorry. I was with Liam, and we got kind of...caught up."

"It's fine," she says, but it's obvious from her tone that it is not fine.

"So second place, huh?" I ask, trying to sound excited instead of guilty. "That's great."

"Yeah, it is."

Knowing that getting Els talking about coffee is always the fastest way to cheer her up, I ask, "So what did you end up making? Did you do the—"

"Listen, A," she interrupts. "I've got to go. I'm going out with Charlie to celebrate."

"Oh, okay." It stings that she doesn't invite me to join them like she usually would, but I remind myself I have no business being upset. I'm the one who messed up. "I'll talk to you tomorrow then."

"Talk to you tomorrow."

She hangs up the phone before I get the chance to even tell her about the kiss.