Apple's Angst (31 page)

“Oh, just a great photograph of you, Happy, and that Sloan guy smiling for the camera,” her aunt said breezily.

“Happy will be thrilled,” Apple said.

“Well, maybe,” her aunt said, uncertainly. “I mean, she certainly looks beautiful.

“What do you mean,
maybe?”
Apple asked.

“Well, the headline is, um … well, I think it's pretty hilarious!” her aunt said, laughing. When Hazel thought things were hilarious, they usually weren't. Like her personality, her humor was unique.

“What does it say?” Apple asked, though she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“The headline is ‘Former boyfriend stealer and
Angst
employee Apple, back on track with best friend. Will they be fighting over Sloan next? Who will win this round?'” her aunt read, adding drum sounds at the end.

Apple felt sick to her stomach. She had thought that the whole appearance on her mother's talk show had blown over, that people had short memories and
wouldn't remember. And now it was being blown up even bigger. People were being reminded again of what Apple had done.

“That's not funny!” Apple said. “Happy and I aren't fighting over Sloan. He's with me. We were all just hanging out. There was nothing at all interesting about that.”

“That's why it's so funny!” her aunt said, laughing. She continued to laugh at her all the way to school.

Apple worried about what Happy would think of her photograph and that headline. But Happy, surprisingly, didn't want to talk about it at all.

“I don't trust Emme,” Happy told Apple, after Apple rushed into school and, along with Brooklyn, they headed to the washroom to fix their hair and makeup. Happy, in fact, had laughed off the headline in the paper, which made Apple feel relieved. Apple thought Happy actually enjoyed the extra attention.

“Why not?” Apple asked, blotting her lips on a piece of toilet paper.

“I just don't,” Happy said.

“I don't either,” said Brooklyn, who was standing with them. Brooklyn never wore makeup. She didn't believe in it.

“You don't trust her because Happy doesn't,” laughed Apple.

“That's not true,” Brooklyn said, looking hurt. “I have my own opinions. There's something about her vibe that is off.”

“I have to agree with Brooklyn,” Happy said. “There's just something off about her. I can't describe it.”

“Well, did she say something to you?” Apple asked.

“No, she was very nice,” said Happy.

“So, then, what's the problem?” Apple pressed.

“Hey, if you like her, we like her,” Brooklyn said, eyeing Happy.

“Good. Because I do like her. She really looks out for me at work,” said Apple. She didn't tell them what Emme had done for her. In fact, Emme had done her answers last week again because Sloan had told Apple about an event at the last minute. Emme completely understood that Apple shouldn't miss it.

“Good,” said Happy. “But I have to tell you there was something off about her. Just something not genuine. Then again, what is it they say? You can't trust anyone in this business.”

Apple thought that maybe Happy was jealous. This was the first time in their lives that Apple had new friends outside Cactus High.

“You know,” she said, “sometimes I think that we just live in our own little bubble. We've all been friends for so long and we never hang out with new people. I'm not saying that's bad, but for argument's sake, would you say that maybe we just don't know what it's like to meet new friends, or how to meet new friends?”

“Maybe,” responded Happy.

Later that day, Apple headed to the
Angst
offices, which now felt like a second home.

“I think you should get paid,” Emme told Apple, out of the blue.

They were sitting outside catching some rays on a five-minute break. Emme sipped her diet soda.

“What do you mean?” Apple asked.

“Well, you're just giving
Angst
magazine
so
much press,” Emme said. “You're getting your picture taken. Sloan Starr only wanted you to interview him. You're doing a lot for the magazine, and what are they giving you in return?”

“An opportunity,” Apple answered, but it came out sounding more like a question.

“Sure, but you grasped that opportunity and now you're a celebrity yourself,” Emme said.

“Oh, I don't think so,” Apple said.

“Please! You're on buses! Your photo is on websites. And it was in the paper again today. Seriously, you're giving
Angst
so much more than they're giving you.” Emme sighed, as if it was all so unfair.

Apple liked that Emme looked out for her. She should be more like Emme, have more of a business sense. She never would have even thought to ask to be paid.

“Maybe you're right,” Apple said, taking in what Emme had told her.

“I
know
I'm right. If I were in your shoes and all this stuff was happening to me, I wouldn't be used like that. I'd demand payment,” Emme said.

“Maybe you are right,” Apple said again, this time more confidently.

“Again, I
am
right. But Fancy Nancy isn't going to reach out to you and make the offer to pay you. Why would she? But if you get paid, maybe I'll get paid,” Emme said, winking.

“Thanks, Emme. I should do this for both of us,” Apple said.

“You're welcome,” said Emme, finishing off her soda.

A
pple asked Morgan how she could go about getting some face time with Fancy Nancy.

“Is something wrong?” Morgan asked, looking concerned. “You're not thinking of quitting, are you?”

“No, I just need to talk to her about something,” Apple said.

Surprisingly, Apple got a call from Morgan less than an hour later.

“She'll meet you today at three. She has to be at an event by four, so you'll have fifteen minutes with her.”

Apple thanked Morgan.

“Oh, and Apple, there's a ton of mail for you here. I'll get someone to send it down.”

Apple couldn't believe the stack of mail that shortly appeared before her. They were all invitations: for charity events, television awards, even birthday parties for people she didn't know.

But Apple didn't have time to look through the stack
of mail addressed to her. She had to write her advice column, which was due in the next ten minutes. She whipped it off half-heartedly. Emme, thankfully, was there to help her again, and she seemed to like helping Apple think through the questions. In fact, Apple hated to admit it, but Emme was really good at giving advice. She was quicker at it than Apple was and came up with some really pithy lines.

At three o'clock, after a quick pep talk from Emme, Apple walked meekly into Fancy Nancy's office. Fancy Nancy was on the phone and motioned for Apple to take a seat.

“I'm glad you wanted to meet today,” Fancy Nancy said. “There's something I want to talk to you about. In fact, I was going to ask you to come meet me today.”

Apple was surprised. What was it that Fancy Nancy wanted to talk to her about? Maybe she was going to compliment her on all the attention Apple was bringing to
Angst
magazine.

“Why don't you begin, Apple?” Fancy Nancy said.

Apple immediately felt nervous and wondered if asking for money was a mistake. But Fancy Nancy was looking at her expectantly and with a hint of impatience.

“So?” Fancy Nancy pressed.

“Well,” started Apple, “I was just thinking that … well, I think I should be getting paid. Not a lot or anything, it's just that I am doing a lot of work here and it doesn't seem fair, exactly, that I'm not getting something in return.”

Fancy Nancy looked at Apple with an amused smile on her face. Apple hadn't been expecting that. Fancy
Nancy didn't speak immediately, which made Apple feel even more uncomfortable. Finally, Fancy Nancy spoke, in a tone that was clear as crystal.

“So, Apple, you think you should be paid. Tell me why, dear,” she asked, as if she was trying not to laugh. Apple felt like it was a trick question and wasn't sure how to answer.

Apple definitely wasn't expecting this. She tried to remember what Emme had told her, that she was bringing a lot of press to
Angst
magazine, and that they were using her, and that she should be getting something in return.

“It's just that … well, I'm bringing a lot of press to
Angst
and, well, people should get paid,” Apple said, sounding childish.

“Okay, Apple, I'll consider your argument. You
are
bringing a lot of press to
Angst
magazine,” Fancy Nancy said, drumming her manicured nails on her desk.

Maybe she had gotten through to her, Apple thought, loosening up.

“But not all of it, you see, is good press,” Fancy Nancy said, looking at Apple intently.

“Sorry?” Apple responded. Everyone had told her—Happy, Sloan, Guy, her aunt—that all press was good press.

“You are out at clubs. Yes, I do read gossip websites. You aren't exactly sending out a good message or being a good role model,” said Fancy Nancy. “You're out there partying with your friends in the middle of the week when you should be either doing your homework or working here, at
Angst.”

Apple definitely wasn't expecting this. She had thought Fancy Nancy would be happy that she was out with celebrities.

“And, yes, I will admit that you are great on television and there is a ton of buzz about you right now. However, this could go one of two ways. I know you've been lazy about your column, which is fine. I've seen it time and time again. You're not the first, nor will you be the last, to get caught up in your fifteen minutes of fame. But consider this a warning,” Fancy Nancy said. “You get only one.”

“A warning?” Apple asked meekly.

“Yes, a warning. We here at
Angst
don't care whom you date. We don't care how many celebrity friends you have. You're here to do a job. You can't let your personal life get in the way of that. So you are on probation as of now. I warned you at the beginning that at
Angst
, we are role models. And I wasn't kidding around. In fact, if you weren't Bee Bee Berg's daughter, you wouldn't have even gotten this warning,” Fancy Nancy said.

Apple was shocked. She wasn't going to be getting paid, obviously. Fancy Nancy didn't seem to care that Apple was bringing press to the magazine. In fact, she seemed disappointed with her.

“Are we done?” Fancy Nancy asked.

Apple just nodded. She couldn't form a sentence, not even to say, “Thank you for your time.”

“Oh, Apple? One more thing?” Fancy Nancy said, just as Apple was about to walk out. Apple felt her heart beat. Maybe Fancy Nancy realized that she had been a little too harsh and wanted to apologize.

“You can't use the car service anymore. That was to get you home from the offices, not to use as your own personal chauffeur to take you home from clubs.”

Apple had to catch her breath. She felt like she'd had the wind knocked out of her. She needed a few minutes alone and couldn't bear just yet to see Emme. She walked into the kitchen area. Luckily, she was alone. She felt faint and had to sit down. She grabbed a chair at the communal lunch table (where no one actually ate, because they were all chained to their desks) and took a seat.

“Late night or bad day?” a voice asked suddenly.

“Oh, Michael, you scared me,” said Apple. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, trying to control the tears she knew were about to fall.

And then they did.

Michael put his coffee cup on the counter and raced over to her. Over the past few weeks, they had had many short chitchats in this area, with Michael always making Apple laugh about something, or Apple making Michael laugh over her outings or her aunt's wedding-related antics.