Page 7 of Shine For Me

Fox

“Are you sure this is okay?” June asks for the tenth time as I park my car in front of my Uncle Reed’s house.

“Of course it’s okay. I wouldn’t have asked you if it wasn’t okay.”

She twists her fingers in her lap and I shake my head, marveling yet again at the fact that this woman, who can control an entire rope line of cameras with nothing more than her smile, can get so nervous about hanging out with normal people.

I hadn’t planned on inviting her. I doubt a graduation party for a bunch of high schoolers is really her scene. But she’d looked so damn lonely last night at Jimmy Cain’s birthday party. Which is silly—like she said, she was related to half the people there. Every time I looked up I saw her talking to someone. Her grandmother, her aunts and uncles, cousins, her father. Random A-list actors and directors.

And through it all Adam Garland stood next to her, his hand clamped on her waist, a bored expression on his face.

God, I hate that guy.

His presence did nothing to take the blank look out of her eyes. I saw it there throughout the night, no matter how many people surrounded her. She looked…sad. And really lonely.

I’d spent a bit of time talking to some model who seemed into me. I probably could have ended the night with her. But the prospect of going home with a stranger—even a hot one who might be eager to sleep with me—didn’t sound very appealing. Not when I couldn’t get that look on June’s face out of my mind.

Besides, I’d promised her food truck tacos.

She seemed better once we were out of the stifling confines of the ballroom. She put back five shrimp tacos with gusto, sheepishly admitting to me that she hadn’t eaten anything at the party. But a hint of whatever emotion she’d displayed all night still hung around her eyes when she asked me if I wanted to hang out the next day.

She did a good job of hiding her disappointment when I told her I had these plans—she didn’t win a Golden Globe in her very first film role for nothing—but I still saw a flash of it right before she fixed on her smile. I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen that same flash in the two years I’ve known her.

June Cain is lonely. And I think she has been for a very long time.

“You’ve met my family before,” I remind her. “They love you.”

“Your mother thinks I’m a ditz.”

“She does not.”

She totally does. But she’ll still be welcoming. My mother doesn’t have a rude bone in her body.

I decide to offer up my ace card. “Everly and Alex were going to bring some samples from the new line.”

Just as I expected, her entire face lights up. June has been a fan of the fashion line I co-own with my cousins for much longer than we’ve been friends. That fashion line is the reason June and I even know each other. Alex, Everly, and I were asked to participate in a reality show to chronicle the opening of our first store front for our line, FEA Threads. That’s how I landed my agent and started auditioning for film roles. The rest is history.

It’s actually really funny to see June with Everly. June worships the ground my cousin walks on and fangirls over her like Everly is the movie star.

The rest of my cousins, however, are a different story. “I’ve already talked to the younger girls about being cool,” I assure her. “No one is going to freak out over you.” The first time I ever brought June to a family event, way back when we were shooting our first film together, my cousin Santana had burst into tears, she was so excited. Forget the fact that she has a famous father and three famous uncles—apparently having a legit movie star in her midst was too much to handle.

But June doesn’t seem comforted by the promise. If anything, she looks upset again. “Oh, Fox, you didn’t,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “Now they’re all going to think I’m a snob.”

“No they won’t. You don’t need to be fawned over or made to feel uncomfortable. They all get that.”

She takes a deep breath, not looking entirely certain. “We should probably go in.” She starts to climb from the car but stops herself. “Oh, I almost forgot my gifts.” She reaches behind her and pulls a stack of neatly wrapped presents from the back seat.

“You didn’t have to bring presents.”

“It’s a graduation party.” Her expression falters slightly. “Wait, people do bring gifts for graduation parties, right?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.” I’d gone in on something with Rose and River. To be honest, I’m not even quite sure what it was. I just sent Rose the Venmo payment when she asked for it. I look at the gifts in June’s hands, a prick of guilt hitting me. She put more thought into this than I had and they’re my family.

“Oh, good,” she says, looking relieved. “This is my first one.”

“You’ve never been to a graduation party?”

She shrugs. “Grey and I didn’t go to high school. We both had tutors. Besides, I don’t think graduation is something my family would care too much to celebrate.”