Not If I Date You First

Chapter 7

ADA

"Make way! Paparazzi Queen entering the room!" my brother, Aiden, calls as I plop down at the table. I'm sure my parents thought it was adorable giving us matching names even though I'm three years older than him. It's actually annoying. We can never tell which one of us they're talking to.

I grab a dinner roll and toss it at his head, trying to shut him up. Aiden catches it in one hand without looking. He takes a big bite and wiggles his eyebrows. With his hazel eyes, long limbs, and brown hair that matches my own natural color, we look alike. But he got all the coordination genes.

My parents are in the other room, and I'm hoping to keep them from finding out about the rumors for as long as possible, preferably forever. They weren't thrilled about me pursuing a career as a celebrity photographer instead of going to college in the fall. I don't think landing myself in the tabloids is going to help.

I wish they could be supportive like Grams. She was the one who watched Aiden and me after school while my parents were at work, and she was the one who spent hours daydreaming with me about the future and all the celebrities I'd photograph. She'd be so excited about my pictures getting published. I can just see her singing one of her old show tunes and dancing around the room. She'd have stayed up with me all night, staring at my name in black and white on all the websites. If anyone understood the importance of chasing dreams, it was Grams.

Seeing the pictures I took all over the celebrity gossip sites today is exactly that, a dream come true. Having all those photos of me everywhere, though, that's more like a nightmare.

"How's the professional stalking business going?" Aiden takes another bite of his roll.

I glare at him. "How's the sweaty, gamer nerd business going?"

He sticks out his tongue, displaying a mouthful of partially chewed food.

"You're gross."

"Speaking of gross, what was all that green stuff?"

I groan. Talk about the worst picture ever to go viral. I look like the monster from Swamp Thing. The press hasn't figured out who I am, but it won't be long until someone tags me in those photos.

"Could you please not say anything about the pictures? Mom and Dad haven't seen them yet. I'd like to keep it that way."

Aiden's eyebrows shoot up. "I hate to break the news to you, sister, but they already know."

"What? How?" I dart a glance over at the kitchen door.

"I know they're old, but they do have eyes and, like, cell phones. Those pictures of you and Liam Anders are everywhere. How do I have to explain this to you? Aren't you supposed to be a reporter?"

"Photographer." I plonk my elbows on the table, dropping my face into my hands. This day has been a rollercoaster—from arguing with a celebrity and almost getting fired to selling my first photos and gaining a huge lead over the other interns. I don't have the energy to fight with my parents.

"Ada, good. You're out of the shower. We need to talk," Mom says as she walks into the room, Dad close behind her. I straighten up, giving them my best everything-is-completely-normal smile, but my fingers reach for my star necklace, twirling the charm nervously.

They do not smile back. Dad's forehead is furrowed, and Mom's mouth is a thin line.

"Let me explain—" I start, but Dad cuts me off.

"Please do, because I'd like to understand why the agency my teenage daughter is interning at is selling pictures of her to the tabloids instead of pictures taken by her."