HARLEY: Okay, that’s just lame. Dork.
ME:
I lookup to find my brother staring at me. “You ready to have your mind blown?” He starts strumming his guitar. “This is a song I started working on after Shane told me about you guys. It’s called ‘Sleeper Hit.’”
“What? You stole my name.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I called my perfume that’s inspired by Shane and me ‘Sleeper.’”
“You didn’t tell me that. I’m not changingthe title.”
“Fine. People will just think I copied you anyway.”
He shrugs and starts singing. He sings about an actor who can’t sleep because he’s afraid he’ll be alone in bed for the rest of his life, tired of acting like everything’s okay. And then he meets the girl of his dreams and all of that chemistry he’s been pretending to have with other girls is finally real. I’m curled up on the futon, in tears, before he’s finished the song.
It doesn’t change the fact that I’m leaving tomorrow. But for the first time ever, my brother lies down beside me and comforts me, and I am realizing that he might not be as big of an asshat as I thought he was. Even if it is completely ridiculous to think of me as the girl of Shane Miller’s dreams.
SHANE MILLER SLEEP DIARY
WEDNESDAY, 5 AM
Went to bed at:This shit again. I don’t have a fucking clue. I got a call from the director of Hard Shell at around ten last night, letting me know that our movie is going to be screened at the Toronto International Film Festival in September. It’s a big deal. A huge deal. And the only person I wanted to tell was Willa. But she has her job interview today. I didn’t want to bother her with my career crap.
How long it took you to fall asleep:How the fuck should I know? Keeping track of this shit when you’re trying to sleep is stressful. Who came up with these fucking diary questions anyway? How do they sleep at night?
How many times you woke up in the middle of the night:Seriously, what difference does it make?
How refreshing your overall sleep was:Like lying in a fucking bed of daisies that won’t stop asking where Willa is or what she’s up to or why you thought it would be better for her if you let her go.
Number of caffeinated beverages you consumed throughout the day:Five. You try getting through a day of pretending to give a shit while entertainmentjournalists ask you the same questions over and over again. It’s sort of like answering these stupid sleep diary questions, except with lights and a high-definition camera in your face.
Number of alcoholic beverages you consumed throughout the day:One beer last night, and don’t try to tell me that’s why I couldn’t sleep.
How much time you spent exercising:None. Fired my trainer as soon as he asked me what happened to the hot nanny.
Your stress level before bedtime, on a scale from 1 to 5:Fuck this scale.
Your major cause of stress:I can’t let her go. And I can’t cancel out of the press junket today or the premiere tomorrow.
TWENTY-SIX
SHANE
Margarita Vasquez has been a professional child caregiver for well over four decades. She has been our nanny for almost two days now. She enjoys cooking healthy meals, being organized, staying on schedule, reading quietly in her room when the kids are asleep, and she knows CPR. She speaks fluent English, but when either of the twins says or does something that she considers to be misbehavior—like request pocket snacks or insist that she sing a showtune or ask why flies like dog poop or why she isn’t married—she expresses something very rapidly in Spanish. I have no idea what, because the wordsiis never involved. This causes the twins to shut up and do whatever she wants them to do immediately, and then everyone gets on with their day. I respect and appreciate her and hope to never see her naked.
It’s not her fault that she is the living, breathing embodiment of Willa’s absence.
I’m sure that Summer and Lucky will like her eventually.
I’m pretty sure that they will stop staring at me like they’re waiting for me to have a nervous breakdown any minute now.
I know what a broken heart looks like.
I have always known how to act heartbroken.
I’ve played five different guys who’ve been crushed by the girl he’s in love with.