Page 6 of Reality With You (Arden Beach #1)

Avery’s version of the past jarred with the one in Lennon’s head where she’d been ruthlessly made fun of for her ever-changing hair color, battered combat boots, and showing more interest in doodling lyrics in her notebooks and losing herself in her headphones than interacting with the rest of the student body.

Since Dylan didn’t go to the same school—he and Erin attended a private school—half of her peers didn’t believe they were actually dating.

Everyone in Arden Beach knew who the Stricklands were; Lennon was a nobody.

Avery was right about one thing: If it wasn’t Dylan or music, it wasn’t on teenage Lennon’s radar.

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since … gosh, graduation?” Avery asked, a crease forming between her two dark, elegantly curved brows. “What’s new with you? What’ve you been up to?”

Lennon gave her a quick rundown on how she’d moved to New York after transferring from Arden Beach University to New York University to pursue a degree and career in music.

When Avery asked if she’d released any music yet, Lennon rushed through a summary of her defunct record deal.

“We ended up parting ways over creative differences,” she concluded.

Technically, they did drop her due to creative differences.

The fact that it wasn’t mutual didn’t seem like an important detail to share.

Not wanting to hear the sympathy Avery began to offer, Lennon quickly shifted the spotlight back to her, asking what had landed her at Fashion Week.

In high school, Avery was the quiet student who showed more interest in maintaining her 4.

0 GPA than keeping up with fashion trends.

They’d both had priority shifts since graduation.

Avery shared how she became interested in fashion and started a blog in college while studying for her business degree.

It was a way to have something fun to do on the side.

Somehow, it turned into a full-blown career.

Her goal, however, was to broaden it into a lifestyle empire.

“A modern-day Martha Stewart of Arden Beach,” Avery said.

A razor blade cut tiny slashes through Lennon’s gut.

Not only had Avery easily found success, but she’d found it with something she hadn’t even originally intended to turn into a career.

It had all simply happened for her. Everything had fallen into place as if by divine interference.

Meanwhile, Lennon had been clawing her way through thousands of hours of vocal practice, writing, recording, auditions, late nights, debt, and back-to-back serving shifts only to lose her first real opportunity. What the hell had she been doing wrong?

“And … I’m engaged,” Avery beamed, her perfect teeth sparkling as she raised her left hand where a diamond sparkled even brighter.

“Oh, shit,” Lennon breathed. A delayed smile spread across her face. “Congratulations—that’s amazing.” She reached out to hug Avery. “You seem really happy.”

“I am,” Avery said as they parted. Joy beamed in her eyes. In that moment, Lennon realized she couldn’t remember the last time her own eyes had lit up like that. “Oh—and I’m doing a reality show.” Avery laughed at the absurdity of forgetting that little detail.

“Sorry, what?”

“Yeah, it all happened kind of fast.” Avery shook her head as if still trying to process the whirlwind of it.

“I found out about a show being cast in Arden Beach that’s following the social scene there.

I auditioned, and one thing led to another, and now they’re covering my wedding on the first season. ”

“Holy shit,” Lennon repeated. “That’s …”

“Crazy? I know.”

The adrenaline wore off, and the volume of Lennon’s exhaustion turned up, along with all the aches and pains in her body that came with being on her feet all day. Her head somehow felt both heavy on her shoulders and light enough to float away.

Her brain demanded a complete shutdown and reboot.

“I think it’s going to be a good opportunity, though,” Avery continued, oblivious to Lennon’s inner turmoil.

She fidgeted with her engagement ring as her gaze fell somewhere over Lennon’s shoulder.

“It’s a great way to take my brand to the next level.

I love fashion, but it’s never been the goal.

This could be the platform to get my name out there and into different spaces, hopefully bring in some big opportunities. I’d love to have my own show someday.”

Through the haze, Lennon sensed Avery’s hesitance. She realized it wasn’t that she was oblivious to Lennon’s reaction but rather misreading it as disapproval and it seemed to have triggered her own doubts. That sobered Lennon for a moment.

“I’m sure you’ll make it happen,” Lennon told her. “You’ve already accomplished so much, like in school when you were always at the top of the class. Everyone admired you. I would’ve hated you if you weren’t so damn nice.”

A soft laugh trickled from Avery.

“You deserve to have all your dreams come true.” Lennon reached for Avery’s left hand, holding her fingers beneath the shiny rock.

Avery smiled appreciatively, squeezing Lennon’s hand back. “Thanks, Lennon.” A second later, something shifted in her eyes, a light bulb going off. “Hold on—I have the most amazing idea.”

Lennon raised a curious eyebrow as exhaustion continued its bid to pull her under.

“Last I heard, they were still looking to cast some more people for the show. Why don’t you audition?”

Lennon barked a slightly delirious laugh. “What? I don’t live in Arden Beach anymore, remember?”

“You could move back for a few months while we’re filming.

It’d be a great way to get your name out there and build a fan base for your music.

So many people now get opportunities based solely on their social media followings.

Maybe you’ll even meet someone in the industry who wants to work with you.

Oh, my gosh! Lennon—that would be perfect. ”

Lennon wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the mental fatigue of dealing with the table of fourteen, or the emotional hangover from everything , but she found herself completely unable to process what Avery was saying.

“I can’t be on a reality show. I’d be so boring.

I can’t even get people to follow me on social media now .

When I’m not working, all I do is sit in my apartment and play music. ”

“Oh, stop it. You were so much fun in high school, always making the best mix tapes for parties and sneaking us into live shows. Your hair always dyed in those crazy colors. And you’re a singer! You’re literally a performer.”

“When I’m making music, yes, but not in general .” Except for when she pretended not to be dying inside during a conversation like this. “My music is what’s interesting—” though, that had been debatable lately , “—not me.”

“Bullshit. Those people are boring.” Avery appraised the table of influencers, all staring at their phones as they nursed their free alcohol. “And they have millions of followers. We’re all more interesting than we think we are.”

Lennon shook her head. “I just can’t picture myself on a reality show. That’s not my thing.”

“I had trouble wrapping my head around it at first, too. Honestly, I still do. But I think about all the benefits and realize I’d be standing in my way if I didn’t do it.

Is it what I imagined for myself? No. But I’m hoping it will help me get to where I want to go.

I mean, did you imagine yourself being a waitress? ”

“No, but it’s a decent job—”

“And that’s all being on a reality show is. A job. A means to an end.”

Avery was starting to make sense, but when Lennon tried to picture herself on a reality show, her brain short-circuited. It was fucking absurd . She was too private, too much of a homebody, too … not a reality show star .

And right now, too tired to give a fuck about anything but getting back to the quiet confines of her apartment and passing out in bed.

“I’ll think about it,” Lennon said to placate her, though she was pretty confident she knew what her answer would be after a good night’s sleep.

Absolutely fucking not.

“OK, but don’t wait too long. Filming starts soon, so they’ll want to have the cast nailed down ASAP. If you’re interested, I’ll give you the info and pass your name along to the producers.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Lennon said with sincerity. Because she did appreciate it. Even if it was never going to happen.

“You have to at least come to the wedding. It’s in September.”

Lennon’s breath turned thick in her throat. The last wedding she’d attended was her own, even though it had been a quick elopement. How would she feel watching someone else walk down the aisle in the same city where she’d left behind the love of her life?

At that moment, she didn’t have a good reason to say no and was too wrung out to devise an excuse. Avery would probably forget about her by the next morning, anyway.

“Of course. I’d love to.”