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“I just mean it’s nice to… use what you’ve got. Like, look at her.”

He’s pointing to Perrie’s producer, Violet, who’s showing Isaac something on her iPad.

“What about her?”

I can’t keep the edge entirely out of my voice.

“She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt. To herworkplace.And I bet you anything you like that if she misses out on a promotion she’ll bring up unfairness, blame the bosses, et cetera.”

The way he words it is savvy. Jordy’s too careful to spellout what he really means while he’s being recorded. But the implication simmering beneath his words is palpable.

He’s not careful enough to keep those sorts of comments to himself altogether while he’s being recorded by a team of Violet’s coworkers, of course. Maybe he’s forgotten?

No, that’s unlikely. Not Jordy.

He simply doesn’t care if she finds out what he said about her.

“I just think you need to take responsibility for your own role in how your life goes,” Jordy goes on, oblivious to my discomfort. “If you don’t respect yourself, you can’t expect others to.”

“You think if I cut my hair short I’m not respecting myself?” I ask before I can help it.

Jordy looks horrified, like he can’timaginehow I leapt to a conclusion like that. “No! Not you. I was talking about that female producer.”

“Well, I disagree with your thoughts on her,” I say coolly. “I think she looks great, and I’d wear jeans if my job let me, too.”

“All right. Let me know how that goes for you, Skye,” he says with an eyebrow raise and a grin. As though this is an adorable inside joke we now have. “But in the meantime, just know that I appreciate you as you are. You’re sweet. You’re funny—you’re probably one of the onlyactuallyfunny girls I know. And you’re classy. There’s a reason you’re still here and someone like Francesca isn’t, put it that way. Don’t undervalue that about yourself, okay?”

Then, he excuses himself for a bathroom break, leaving me to stare after him.

Jordy’s opinion means less than nothing to me, so there’s absolutely no point in getting upset. The indignant anger that’s prickling at my fingertips isn’t useful. I have a goal, and I’m not going to fall on my sword overthis.

Still.

“Isaac,” I call. As he approaches the swing, I dig my heels into the dirt to stop it in its tracks.

“Hey,” he says, beaming. “You’re doing great. He looks like he’s actually connecting with you.”

“Wonderful… Hey, Isaac? Can you get me an electric shaver?”

His eyebrows fly together. “Why do you need—”

“Can you do it?”

“I mean, sure. We’ve got at least one in hair and makeup.”

“Tonight?”

“Skye, what—” He pauses, then sighs. “Tell me no one’s gonna get hurt. Don’t do anything reckless.”

“No one’s getting hurt. Who do you think I am?” I press a hand over my chest in mock offense. “Although I can’t make any promises about the reckless thing.”

EIGHTEENMaya

When Skye returns from her date with Jordy, she’s armed with scissors and an electric razor.

“Hey, you. Did you wash his blood off of those already?” I ask from the bed as she kicks her shoes off so viciously they bounce off the wall.

“Will you help me?” she asks, swinging around.