Page 21 of The Summer Show
Braids stood and patted my head, even though she was shorter than me, then she kissed me on both cheeks. “Come to the Hotel Ble tomorrow to meet the casting director, yes? She will love you.”
“Maybe,” Effie said darkly.
Now I was confused. Who named a hotel after an icky sound? Just how many stars was this place? “Bleh? Did you say Bleh?”
“What else would I say? That is its name. Hotel Ble.”
All righty then. But I had to be honest with her, since she was so nice to me. “I can’t be on TV, but I’ll come tomorrow because you invited me. What time?”
More laughter. The whole world was funny to these people, except Effie, and nothing was funny to her.
Braids gave me a little shove, and just like that I was dismissed. I returned to my table. Without my pen.
Son of a motherless goat. I’d failed at the one task I’d set out to complete. Instead, I’d been roped into trying out for a game show.
Jet lag.
In my normal form I would have noticed the switcheroo sooner. Now what I was I supposed to do? Go back and tell them I didn’t want the show, just my pen?
The phalanx of starstruck civilians had closed around the TV people. Breaking through would be impossible without force or some other more famousy famous person to dangle under their noses.
Was yelling, “Oh my God, there’s Chris Hemsworth?” beneath me?
No.
But it turned out to be unnecessary. Because at that moment the bodies rolled aside again. This time Nick Merrick pushed through the gap, and he was holding my Sharpie pen.
Time slowed to a crawl. Nick exuded cool, and he did it in jeans, and a polo shirt, and aviator sunglasses that looked like they had been custom made for his face. He didn’t need the usual coolness trappings like leather pants.
He stopped at my table. Time resumed its normal pace.
“Ble means Blue,” he told me. “It’s the big resort down that way. Can’t miss it.”
He capped the pen. Closed my fingers around it. Walked away.
eight
Gossip traveled at the speed of Wi-Fi here. By the time I reached my best friend’s ancestral home, her family already decided I was going to be on Greece’s Top Hoplite, whether I liked it or not.
And of course they were instantly supportive, even though they were positive I was going to lose.
“I might win,” I told them. “I have skills. I can do the windmill and herd small children. Can any of the other contestants herd small children without losing any? It’s a very specific skill.”
“I have faith in you,” Ana said, hugging me.
“Do you really?”
“No. But you’re one of my two best friends in the world, so naturally I’m Team You.”
“Po-po, I cannot believe someone we know is going to be on Greece’s Top Hoplite!” Yiayia said.
“Two people,” I said.
Their faces registered confusion.
“Nick’s a contestant, too.”
Proyiaya keeled over. Slowly. Dramatically. Neatly into the hammock. From the way she peeked at me through a narrow slit in her left eye, I knew she was faking, but everyone else jumped to attention.