“Look, I’m sorry I embarrassed you, but I’m not sorry that I’m seeing Kyle.”
She doesn’t say another word and disconnects the phone unceremoniously.
I’m breathing as if I’ve come from racing. I scroll down to one of the articles, and the contents sink in. As I read the words, I gasp at the sheer cruelty of the writer. She writes two whole paragraphs criticizing my looks. My whole body trembles as each insult feels like a punch to my belly. I clamp a hand to my mouth to keep the sob rising up my throat contained.
In a desperate attempt to get back my sense of who I am, I try to remember Kyle’s words over how he deals with criticism. It doesn’t work.
I look at the poll results. Seventy percent of people think that Kyle Bryce can do a lot better. Others offer their comments as well.
“He must have picked her in a fast-food joint.”
“She would be hot as a guy. Look at her arm muscles.”
I’ve never been compared to a man before, and it hurts. Badly. I’ve always been proud of my body, but now as I read the articles posted about me, I feel my self-esteem being stripped, each layer gone, leaving me vulnerable.
My phone rings, making me jump. I’m relieved to see Isla’s name on the screen.
“Grace, are you all right, sweetheart?” she says when I answer.
On hearing her voice, I burst into loud sobs.
“I’m coming over,” she says. “Pin me the address. Hon, I’m on the way, okay?”
She disconnects the call, and when I manage to stop crying, I send her a pin of my location. Then I use the phone on Kyle’s bedside table to call Maria in the kitchen. I tell her that a friend of mine will be visiting, and she promises to let Carlos know.
Knowing that Isla is on the way propels me into action. I make the bed and hurry to the bathroom for a quick shower. Fifteen minutes later, I’m dressed and running a comb through my hair when the doorbell rings.
I hurry down and find Isla in the living room, admiring Kyle’s paintings. She turns around, and we rush into each other’s arms. I’m overwhelmed by feelings of gratitude and start to cry again.
“Thank you. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.” She dropped everything and just came to me. I lean in for another quick squeeze then pull her to the couch.
“Of course I came,” she says. “You’re my best friend, and I can’t bear to know that you are hurting.”
We sit down side by side, and she keeps my hand in hers.
“You saw the stories?” I ask her.
She nods. “They are vicious; the people who write that trash and the people who buy those magazines don’t help matters.”
“I’ve been guilty of buying a tabloid magazine once or twice,” I admit. “I just never thought it hurts so much when you are the subject. They called me a pig!”
“You are beautiful, and you know that,” Isla says fiercely. “Don’t let those assholes get to you.”
“It’s not just the insults.” I tell her about the call with my mother and my response.
“I’m proud of you,” she says. “But I also feel bad for them. It’s tough living in a small town; everyone is in your business. It’s just not fair to keep comparing you with your parents.” She contemplates me for a moment. “What you said about Kyle, about not missing out on a good thing because he’s famous. Do you mean that?”
I let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I did when I said it.” I’d made a decision that I would end things with Kyle when the press found out about us. Now that it’s happened, to my surprise, I don’t feel as if my world has fallen apart.
“There’s nothing wrong with falling in love with a celebrity,” she points out gently.
“Except for the lack of privacy and the cruel articles.” I think back to my own behavior. “The worst thing is that I read those articles sometimes. If I’m in an airport and I find one lying around, I’ll leaf through it. It seemed such harmless fun.”
“I’ve done it too,” Isla says with a sigh. “And now I feel so bad.”
“Let’s make a deal not to ever read those trashy magazines again.”
“Deal,” Isla says. “One more thing. I’ve never seen you as happy and settled as you have been since you and Kyle started dating. Give it a chance. Enjoy the ride.”
I inhale deeply and noisily. I’m frightened, but at the same time, I can’t bear the thought of losing him. Which means that I’m going to have to deal with my biggest fear. My privacy. But maybe after the initial buzz of excitement, they’ll move on to someone else, and we can continue with our lives.