Chapter 4, Part 1

"Then why do you freeze out these 'friends' every time they call you?" Stan took me down with one hand tied behind his back. "And you asked me to cough into the phone like our whole family had the flu and you couldn't go anywhere."

"Because... Because... It's none of your business!"

I suddenly exhaled and gave up.

Turning away, I sat down tiredly at the table, took a slice of pizza, and bit into it. Stan sat down beside me and took a bite too. Dad also decided to have dinner.

Pineapple pizza turned out to be pretty good, by the way.

"Listen, Diana," Dad began tactfully when only Mom's quarter of the pizza was left on the table. "Stan is right. You're not just a pretty girl. You're smart, sensible, and kind. Resourceful, too, and nobody gets bored with you. But you haven't gone out with anyone for more than one date. What if this so-called show is your chance to step outside your usual limits? A chance to remind yourself that you're a girl with character and you don't fold in the face of a challenge? So what if it's a popular TV channel? Viewers believe real people, not ratings. Not the ones who came, as you put it, for publicity. I believe in you too, right along with your mom. It's too early for you to be, hm, knitting hats..."

"Don't get mad, Di," Stan chimed in. "Sure, all of this looks sketchy. But maybe it's not that bad? You're cool, and you definitely won't let anyone push you around, even on camera. You'll manage, you'll see! Especially since these dates aren't real."

"Like you know so much..."

"And if they hurt you or Mom, just stick your middle finger out through the sock. There's already a hole in it. Hang on..." Stan started bustling around. "I'll just get it out of the trash!"

 "I don't want to look for love, do you understand?" I suddenly admitted in despair. "On dates, I feel like a D student taking a physics exam. Worse, actually. I don't know what to say. I can't laugh back at stupid jokes, and I don't know where to put my hands. All I can think about is leaving as soon as possible! It's a disaster, and it looks pathetic. I'll get kicked off the project immediately!"

"That's because you're honest!" Dad put in weightily. "And you can't play with feelings."

"But people don't go on shows to be honest, Dad. They go on shows to win!"

"You haven't even gone anywhere yet, and you've already surrendered." Stan came back with the lucky sock and shoved it into my hand. "What if you get someone normal? Someone with a good sense of humor and good taste in movies?"

Unable to help myself, I snorted ironically:

"I see a love of science fiction runs in the family, Stan. Fine. Give me time. I'm definitely not ready to throw Mom to the sharks."

But before I could wrap my hands around my tea mug and sit in silence... my phone suddenly vibrated.

I picked it up and instantly went cold. The number messaging me on social media was unfamiliar. But the avatar...

Holy furballs! It was Valentine!

Yes, that Valentine. Velvet voice, white teeth, and onyx eyes. Celebrity host with a manipulator's diploma in his pocket and a six-figure follower count.

What a nightmare!