At this.
And she got it.
Hey girl!
Evelyn’s Epic Everyday has her epic eye on you!
As you may have heard (wink, wink), she’s putting together her very first YouTube up-and-comers boot camp.
***Invitation only!***
Those she thinks are ready to break out big will make her annual “Top 10 to Get Behind or Be Left Behind” list. And you know what that means! But still, I’m gonna tell youuu! Because it’s that freaking fantastic: every single previous lister has gone on to be a Star of the Super sort. Think: a million subscribers, two, three . . . five?
Not yet, but you could be Evelyn’s first!
So welcome, Ask an Angel, to your every day being an epic one. But remember: keep it hush-hush! We’ll be doing a big reveal in the lead-up.
See you in December!
Don’t forget to send in that deposit!
(Nonrefundable!)
Kiss kiss!
Angeline vaulted out of her chair and pumped her fists in the air.
“Evelyn’s!”
“Epic!”
“Everyday!”
She spun around and snatched her phone off the bed. She had her messages open to her last text with Leo before she remembered.
They were broken up.
He had broken up with her.
Because of all this.
The one person she wanted to share this with was the one person she couldn’t.
Is this what they call irony?
She sunk back into her chair, staring at the pink roses on the plant that Leo had given her freshman year. They’d repotted it together since, four times, always here on the balcony off the living room, its small size still more comfortable than being at Leo’s, where his mom’s scowl awaited around every corner.
Besides, Angeline was the one who knew how to cultivate and trim and fertilize. Her grams had loved gardening. Leo’s contribution had been keeping her company, sharing stories of his family. Like how they always celebrated Christmas on the eve, not the day. How on New Year’s Eve, they’d run around the house outside, in the freezing cold, carrying a suitcase and wearing yellow underwear, traditions passed down from his grandparents to bring travel and fortune in the new year. And how his mom would immediately feel a sense of home when her foot hit the floor of the airport in Maiquetía. Striped with red, blue, yellow, and black, the floor was famous, with its own Instagram hashtag. As he’d spoken, his eyes had been both happy and sad, for so many of their family traditions had waned as his mom’s career had grown.
Other times, he’d simply entertained her with one little-known fact after another. Like how rose hips were a good source of vitamin C and how one of the oldest fossils of roses discovered in Colorado dated back thirty-four million years.
He always had one ready, his memory for random tidbits fueled initially by his mom’s requirement that he be able to engage with anyone on anything. It had made them a good team on Ask an Angel; she didn’t have his patience for passive research or his speed at typing—his former speed.
She’d seen the sling.
The rumors were true.
No lacrosse.
No leading the team to state.
Leo being Leo, letting down his teammates would be tearing him up more than not playing himself.
One moment of distraction, and good-bye MVP. He’d been biking home from Maxine’s party when he’d flipped over the handlebars.
Guilt crept in, and Angeline elbowed it aside in a move she’d been perfecting since they’d broken up. She’d like to think she’d done a good job of successfully avoiding him, but she was pretty sure that was only because he was the one excelling at avoiding her.
But really, he had been her boyfriend. Who supposedly believed in her. Shouldn’t he have wanted to help her?
And, technically speaking, hadn’t she stayed true to her word?
Semantics.
Whatever, so maybe her literal interpretation didn’t give her a total pass, but how else was she supposed to keep Evelyn on the hook? Leo’s charisma was second only to her own. She’d needed him.
Now she was here.
Here with an invite to Evelyn’s Epic Everyday Boot Camp.
Here without Leo.
“Heard the call,” Gramps said, poking his head into the room. “Though the specifics on what exactly needs to be brought elude me.”
Cat smirked behind him. Sardines had to snuggle to be as close as those two. Same way Angeline had been with the grandmother she was named after. Grams had died a few years ago, about the same time as her dad had flaked, bolted, and his dad had moved in to take his place. A total upgrade.
“What’s up?” Cat said. “Get a new ad from a women’s mustache remover?” She flopped on her bed—or, rather, on the clothes and newspapers and old scrapbooks of Gramps’s articles on her bed.
Angeline cringed.
This was her studio. The backbone of Ask an Angel.
A perfect square, their bedroom was divided as equally as the Ikea furniture in it: two white dressers, two twin beds, two squat nightstands. While Cat’s side got the desk, Angeline’s had the teal faux-fur, bowl-shaped chair, courtesy of an Ask an Angel sponsor. Their mom had mandated that they agree on the common space, so there were no posters on the walls, no flashy paint colors, no constellations on the ceiling, despite how hard Angeline had pushed for that last one.
Angeline’s side was flawless, with her crisp white comforter, pink-and-white diamond curtains, and quirky Edison bulb lamp she’d found on Etsy.
But Cat’s side . . . threadbare comforter with a juvenile print that looked like a newspaper front page, a cheap plastic blind, and three LED lamps clipped to her bed frame. Books were strewn on the floor like a quilted rug, and pens and notebooks and highlighters poked out from under her pillow. Her sister kept her newsroom neat and orderly, yet she couldn’t even be bothered to clear peanut butter cup wrappers off her nightstand. Not passive-aggressive. Aggressive-aggressive. And gross. Not to mention unhealthy.
Gramps sat on the end of Angeline’s bed and let Tartan knead into his side. “Now, granddaughter, enlighten me.”
“I’m in.”
Cat’s head jerked up, and she almost seemed to smile before a look of indifference won out. “Mom’ll never let you go.”
Angeline squeezed her phone as if the Evelyn in her inbox could give her an encouraging hug back. “She has to.”
“She won’t,” Cat said.
“Unless . . .” Angeline ignored the eye roll Cat directed at their grandfather and focused on him. “Just hear me out. She trusts no one more than you. So you could maybe sorta help convince her?”