Page 35 of More For Me

His gaze snaps up to me, eyes wide and panicked. “I can’t talk to my parents! They’re going to freak out.”

I roll my eyes. “No, they won’t.”

“I’m sorry, weren’t you there when we told them about the reality show? My dad barely spoke to me for weeks. For a twelve episode show on a cable network. This? Actual films? He’ll lose his mind.”

“He came around on the reality show,” I point out. “He’s a producer now. And he lets the cameras follow him around way more than my dad.”

“You’re also older, Fox,” Alex points out. “And you’ve been living on your own for a few years. A big part of their freak out about the show was the idea of us moving out.”

He points at her. “Exactly! I was nineteen and he lost his mind because I wasn’t going to be sleeping in my childhood bedroom anymore.”

“But he got over it.” That’s not entirely true—our parents still bitch and moan about the older kids moving out. With the middle group of teens entering adulthood in the next few years, I’m anticipating a shit-ton of drama.

“I really don’t think they’ll give you a hard time,” I say. “Not if you really want to do this.”

“So the question is—do you want to do it?” Alex asks.

He keeps his gaze locked on the ground. “It would just be nice, you know?” he says, voice low and quiet. “To do something different. To have something that’s just mine.”

We’re quiet for a moment, letting that sink in. I get it, I really do. In a family like ours, a family with so many kids, so much talent, so much fame, it can be hard to carve out a path for yourself. I know Fox has struggled with that more than most of us. As Uncle Daltrey and Aunt Daisy’s third kid, he was born kind of in between the different group of cousins. Too young to be fully accepted by Rose, Will, and River, and too old for the middle teens. I think Fox spent a lot of time feeling out of place as we grew up.

Several of the kids in our family want to follow in our dads’ footsteps and get into the music industry. Fox plays guitar and piano—our grandpa made sure we could all play at least decently well—but he never had any desire to make a career out of it. Why would he want to do something where he’d forever be in his father’s shadow? Forever compared to someone else?

I’m pretty sure he’s spent most of his life feeling that way.

So doing something completely different? Something neither our parents or his older siblings have ever done? I get the appeal.

“You should go for it,” I say, pushing all my worries about the line and our show down deep. “You absolutely should.”

He looks up at me, the hopeful glint in his eye confirming my instinct about this. “You think so?”

“I do. I think you’ll always wonder if you don’t give it a try.”

He nods his head. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” He grimaces. “And that means I definitely have to tell my parents.”

“We’ll be there,” Alex says immediately.

“Absolutely,” I agree.

Relief and excitement mix on his face. “Thanks, you guys. Seriously.”

“Fox!” I clap my hands as excitement rises in me, too. “Do you realize what this means? You might be hanging out with legit movie stars soon!” I grab his arm. “You might have red carpet events.”

He laughs. “That’s probably not going to happen. This might not go anywhere, you know.”

I wave him off. “You’re going to be a hit, I know it.”

He grins, looking much more like his cocky self. “In the unlikely event I ever walk a red carpet, I promise I’ll bring you as my plus one.”

* * *

Our house isquiet when I get home, all the downstairs lights off. Fox decided to go back to his parents’ house after lunch. He said he’ll tell them if it feels right, and promised to call me if he needs back up.

I make my way up to my room, a strange melancholy settling over me. I know it’s stupid to think too far ahead, but I can’t help it. If this works out well for Fox, his entire life could change. What if he starts spending most of his time out on location or doing whatever actor things fancy movie stars do? What if he doesn’t want to live here anymore?

Bodhi’s door is closed, but there’s light coming through the crack at the bottom so I don’t think he’s asleep. I hesitate in front of his room, debating whether to knock. It’s Sunday night, which means he’s probably lesson planning or prepping for the week ahead. I should just go back downstairs and entertain myself.

“You gonna stand out there all night or you going to come in?” he calls from inside, and I grin.