Page 2 of Not Just Gal Pals

My phone buzzed. Amanda had sent me another message.

Meet me in the auditorium ASAP! We’re about to start and Walter is getting antsy!

I suspected Amanda was projecting her own emotions onto Walter, who took pretty much everything in stride. When @charlietheinstagramcat had taken a chunk out of his leg a few weeks ago, Walter had only let out one plaintive yelp and then gracefully removed himself from the situation by leaping into my arms.

I checked the time. Shit. I needed to leave now, or I would be late. Unfortunately, that meant I couldn’t hide in the stall until the women left. I took a deep breath, braced myself, and opened the door.

Two women in their forties were reapplying lipstick over the sinks. They glanced at my reflection in the mirror without recognition. Thank god. One awkward encounter avoided.

I washed my hands, checked I looked presentable in the mirror, and rushed out of the bathroom.

I knew this was a terrible idea when Amanda had FaceTimed me in a panic yesterday morning, only hours after I’d arrived in Sapphire Springs, exhausted after the red-eye flight. The journalist she’d lined up for the careers panel had dropped out at the last minute, and she was desperate.

“The journalist was the only person the kids were actually excited about. Without her, I’m worried they’re going to totally zone out. Having a homegrown TikTok sensation who lives a glamorous Hollywood lifestyle would really zhuzh up the panel, and they’ll love Walter too. I need you. Please,” Amanda had begged. I’d always found it difficult to say no to Amanda, and yesterday was no exception.

I also found it hard to tell her bad news. Amanda didn’t have TikTok or Instagram and hadn’t visited me in LA recently, so she was oblivious to the fact that, lately, I’d been living anything but a glamorous Hollywood lifestyle.

I’d grudgingly agreed to be on the panel, hoping none of the kids asked about the scandal. My main demographic was twenty- to forty-year-old women interested in fashion and dogs, so there was a decent chance they didn’t even follow me. And even if they did, they could have easily missed the whole thing—I’d just made an Instagram story refuting the allegations, which had only been up for twenty-four hours and otherwise hadn’t addressed them.

I was almost at the auditorium when my phone started ringing. Amanda again.

“Where the hell are you?” she whispered, sounding stressed.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m almost there.”

I entered the auditorium, which hadn’t changed in a decade. The familiar blue and white painted walls, the scuffed wooden floors covered in markings for the basketball court, the stale smell of sweat, the rickety gray plastic folding chairs set up in rows to hold the senior students, and the raised wooden stage at one end. As I walked toward the stage, memories of boring school assemblies, stressful exams, awkward school dances, and embarrassing P.E. classes came rushing back.

I picked up pace when I realized the other two panelists were already seated onstage. Amanda, wearing her standard teacher uniform of black pants, floral blouse and cardigan, her shiny black hair in a tight ponytail she only ever wore at work—she claimed it helped her get into ‘Ms. Lui’ mode—glared at me from her moderator’s seat. In contrast, Walter, a caramel ball of fluff lying by her side, was the picture of canine calm. Amanda had definitely been projecting.

I took the stairs to the stage two at a time, heading toward the empty seat.

And then I saw her and nearly tripped.

What the…?!

My heart skipped a beat. The world suddenly veered off kilter. I’d been psyching myself up all morning for the panel, but I had not prepared myself for this.

For the second time today, I fought the urge to turn and run.

Why the hell didn’t Amanda tell me she’d be here? On the panel with me. Sitting next to me. And looking just as good as I remembered. Actually, better. She’d cut her brown hair into a pixie cut—short on the sides with a wave of hair at the top—and it suited her. The navy jeans, gray oxford shoes, and a gray-and-blue plaid blazer also suited her. A lot. Damn it.

But I knew why Amanda hadn’t warned me. Because I wouldn’t have agreed to come if I’d known.

I’d been hoping to avoid Blake Mitchell for as long as possible.

Blake shot me a forced smile, and I managed something—which at best felt like a grimace—in return and then glanced away, avoiding direct eye contact. I sat down next to her, desperately wishing I could fast forward the next hour until my escape.

But before I had time to dwell on Blake’s unwelcome presence, Amanda cleared her throat.

“Thanks, everyone, for coming. We’ve got an amazing panel of alumni with us today to talk about their very different careers. I’ll ask them some questions, and then we’ll have time for Q&A afterward. But first, let me introduce them. Next to me, we have Tom Harrison, who graduated in 2007 and owns his own car repair business in Sapphire Springs. To his left, we have Blake Mitchell, who graduated in 2010 and moved back two years ago to set up Sapphire Springs’ only medical clinic after completing her medical degree at Columbia University and working in New York. And finally, we have Jenny Lynton, who also graduated in 2010, and her adorable toy poodle, Walter. They live in LA and have over three million followers combined on TikTok and Instagram.” It had dropped to 2.8 million in the last month, but I wasn’t about to correct her.

After the students finished half-hearted clapping, Amanda launched into her questions. To my relief, she turned to Blake first.

“Blake, thanks again for agreeing to be on our panel. So, what made you decide to go into medicine?”

Blake flashed a genuine smile at Amanda, her whole face lighting up. “Since I was a little kid, I’ve always dreamed about being a nurse or a doctor. I wanted a job that was rewarding, something that would allow me to help other people and contribute to society. So, when I was lucky enough to get into med school, it was a no-brainer for me.”

Amanda turned to me. “And what about you, Jenny? What drew you to working in the media and as a social influencer?”