Apple's Angst (24 page)

On Monday morning, Apple's BlackBerry vibrated at her ear. She had left it on her pillow. She looked her clock and let out a groan. It was 6:50 a.m.

“I just saw you on a bus! You're on a bus!” her aunt Hazel screamed when Apple groaned out a “Hello?”

“You're on the whole side of a bus!” her aunt screamed again.

Apple shook herself awake. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Was Apple dreaming?

“I'm on my way to your house now and a bus drove by and there's a huge, massive photo of you. And under it, it says, ‘Read Apple's Angst. Every Monday in
Angst
magazine'!” her aunt screeched.

“Oh, my God! They must have used a photo from my photo shoot! Do I look okay? Do I look fat? Should I be embarrassed?” Apple was suddenly wide awake and self-conscious.

“Are you kidding? You look unbelievable! I can't believe you're on the side of a bus! I'll be there shortly. I have the magazine with me! See you in five!” her aunt said, hanging up.

Apple jumped out of bed and raced downstairs. Her mother, of course, was already there, dressed in an off-white cashmere sweater and beige pants, with her string of pearls around her neck, ready to be the Queen of Hearts for the day.

“Why are you up?” her mother asked. “It's so early.”

“Aunt Hazel called. Apparently I'm on the side of a bus!” Apple said airily, grabbing a mug and pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“What?” her mother asked.

“
Angst
magazine is advertising my advice column on buses! And Aunt Hazel said there was a huge photo of me,” Apple said, sitting down across the table from her mother.

One second later, Aunt Hazel raced in, her hair as messy as Apple had ever seen it—and Apple had seen this a
lot
—armed with a copy of
Angst
.

“I'm here! I'm here!” she said, flipping through the magazine excitedly. “I haven't even looked at your column yet, Apple. I was so distracted after seeing your massive face on a bus that I had to force myself to pay attention to my driving. Oh, look! There's a photo of you on the front page at the top. It says ‘Apple's Angst: Page 62.'”

Hazel proceeded to try to find the page. It was painful to watch, like watching a five-year-old attempt to tie her own shoelaces when she doesn't know how.

“Give it to me!” Apple said, trying to grab the magazine from her aunt's hand. “I want to see it first.”

“Actually, I'm the one who brought it over, so I'm the one who gets to see first,” Aunt Hazel whined, starting to walk away from Apple, guarding the magazine.

“That's ridiculous,” Apple yelled, chasing her aunt. Hazel was running around the table, holding the magazine away from Apple, who was yelling, “Give it to me!”

“Grow up, Apple,” her aunt yelled.

“You
grow up!” Apple shot back.

“Enough!” Dr. Berg barked, pounding her mug on the table. “Hazel, bring the magazine to the table and we'll all sit down and look at it together. Like adults!”

Apple and Hazel sat down, like scolded children, and Hazel handed the magazine to Apple's mother.

“Page 62! Page 62!” her aunt screeched.

“God, calm down,” Apple muttered. “And did you brush your teeth? I can smell your breath from here!”

Her aunt took the opportunity to blow air in Apple's face.

“God, Hazel! Gross!”

Her mother flipped to page 62 while Apple and her aunt watched over her shoulder. There it was: a huge photo of Apple with her professionally made-up face and her new straight hair. The photograph was so much larger than what Michael had said it would be. It was as big as a picture frame, not a postage stamp. Her photo filled one page, and on the facing page was Apple's advice.

“That doesn't even look like me!” Apple said in awe.

“Sure it does, honey,” said Aunt Hazel. “It's just a better-looking you! It's the same photo I saw on the bus.”

“I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult,” Apple said.

“Can you please explain this photo on a bus?” her mother asked.

Crazy Aunt Hazel explained about seeing Apple on the side of a bus that drove past her, then said, “Shhh. Let's all be quiet and read Apple's Angst.”

They sat in silence reading the questions and Apple's advice, which Apple could already recite by heart.

“Is this question about me?” Hazel screamed after a moment.

“Why do you think
everything
is always about you?” Apple asked her aunt.

“Because it's ME! And it does sound vaguely familiar. I thought you learned your lesson about making up fake questions?” her aunt clucked.

“Hazel! Stop being such a narcissist. I don't even get to pick the questions. The editors tell me which ones to answer. Happy thought the first question was about her!” Apple said.

“Swear on your life?” her aunt pressed, looking at her suspiciously.

“Yes, I swear!” Apple said, crossing her heart with her finger.

Her aunt proceeded to read the second of Apple's questions out loud.

“And, sweetie, no offense,” Dr. Berg said. “You aren't twenty-five.”

“Shut up!” snapped Aunt Hazel. “I may not be twenty-five, but Jim thinks I look it!”

“And look what Apple's advice is!” her mother said meaningfully.

Her mother proceeded to read what Apple had written.

“Does Jim know your bra size?” Apple asked, eyebrows raised, looking at her aunt.

Hazel suddenly looked worried. “No, he doesn't,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek.

Her aunt got up from the table, pacing back and forth, biting her nails.

“Oh, come on, Hazel. It's an advice column for
teens
. That line about the bras was meant to be funny,” Apple said, laughing. “Don't take it seriously.”

“Although it is kind of true,” muttered Dr. Berg.

“Okay, Bee Bee. We all know you think it's too soon for me to get married,” Apple's aunt said tersely.

“That's not true!” her mother protested.

“Yes, it is,” Apple said under her breath.

“Okay, it is. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to support you, Hazel, just as Apple said,” her mother said, placing her hands on Hazel's shoulders.

Apple tuned out the conversation between her aunt
and her mother. She kept staring at her photograph and felt proud about being in
Angst
magazine.

Apple's BlackBerry kept announcing new messages. Everyone she knew—and some she hadn't seen or heard from in years—was sending her congratulatory messages, telling her how great she looked. There was one from Guy, who wrote, “Another star is born!”

Zen had texted, “Beauty and brains. When can I see you?”

It was too early to deal with Zen, thought Apple, though she had no idea when it would be a good time to deal with Zen. She now knew how Happy had felt, needing to hide from him.

A
pple knew when she walked into school that morning that everyone was talking about her and looking at her differently. She could tell people were in awe. So many students had told her they saw her column and her photo on the bus that Apple had lost count. So this was what it was like to be known for something people admired, Apple thought. She hated herself for admitting it. But … she liked it. She felt taller. Every strand of her new long, straight hair, which was now so easy to run a brush through, seemed to be saying, “I'm a star.”

Apple was wearing a short green dress Happy had convinced her to buy, with long gold chains hanging around her neck. She had never felt so confident in her life. The more people stared, the taller she stood.

Happy and Brooklyn had grabbed her arms as soon as she arrived and couldn't stop talking about how excited they were for her. Apple hadn't had a chance
to even see Lyon. She wondered where he was and couldn't wait to hear his reaction.

Apple didn't look at Jim—Mr. Kelly—as she sat down beside Happy in class.

“Can you believe this, Happy?” Apple asked. “It's like everyone knows who I am now.”

“It is quite unbelievable,” Happy answered. “I'm proud of you. You're just going to become a bigger star when
Angst TV
starts. When is that?”

“It airs next week, but we start taping today! I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm kind of excited,” Apple said.

“You are? I thought you loathed going on television,” Happy said. “I thought you were dreading it.”

“I don't know. Maybe I was just being a brat about it. Now I'm excited,” Apple admitted.

“You should be excited. People would die to be in your position,” Happy said, in a tone Apple couldn't read.

Apple didn't think Happy sounded very proud. She sounded, Apple thought, kind of jealous. But Apple wasn't sure if that was it. Not once in their entire friendship had Happy ever had reason to be jealous of Apple.

“Pop quiz,” Mr. Kelly announced.

The class moaned.

“We just had one last week,” complained Hopper loudly.

“And you all did poorly on it—that is, those of you who decided to show up,” Mr. Kelly said to the class.

Apple and Happy and Brooklyn glanced at each other, suppressing a smile.

The quiz was passed back from desk to desk.

Apple took one look at the questions and knew she was going to fail. She hadn't been keeping up with her schoolwork at all, what with
Angst
and hanging out with her friends. She had spent all day Saturday at
Angst
, organizing the shoe closet, and most of Sunday she had spent in bed, trying to catch up on sleep.

She glanced at Happy, who was already hard at work. No matter what was going on in Happy's life, she always got straight A's. Brooklyn, however, was spinning her pen in her fingers, not writing anything. Apple felt better knowing she wasn't going to be the only one who failed.

The clock ticked. Apple tried to concentrate on the quiz, but her mind was stuck on the fact that her photograph was all over town and that people in school were looking at her now as if she were famous.

“Time's up!” Mr. Kelly said. “Pass the papers forward.”

Apple couldn't believe how quickly the time had gone.

She scribbled across the top of her quiz, “Sorry, Mr. Kelly. I have women's issues today and couldn't concentrate. Cramps!” If it worked for Brooklyn, maybe it would work for her. Plus, Mr. Kelly was going to be family. He should be understanding.

Apple didn't even feel that bad about it. She was excited to get to
Angst
and see what the reaction was to the first issue. Working at
Angst
was so much better than this whole school thing. It was certainly more fun than math class, or any of her other classes, for that matter. For the first time, like Brooklyn, she felt she had a higher purpose than school. She was also excited to see Emme.

At the end of the day, as Apple was racing out, Happy wished her luck. “I'm sure you'll do fine. In fact, you seem like you actually are a person who should be seen on television. You already seem like a new person.”