Mopey because Leo hadn’t returned my text—he was probably still busy with Fernando, so that was fine—and pissed because Kayla hadn’t returned my text or call either. She’d posted some pictures of herself at some party a few hours ago, taking a selfie with some chick I recognized from the movies. Great, we were getting evicted and Kayla was off partying with movie stars. I thanked the driver as he let me out, absently noting the people staring at me again. When I looked up at the building, I found a few people looking out their windows at me and nervously smoothed my hair behind my ear. I’d become something of a sensation in my apartment building and Joy liked to cackle about the rumors that I was some overseas movie star in hiding, a model, or a princess. Kayla, on the other hand, hated the attention I was taking away from her; she was used to being the object of envy, and went out of her way to try to upstage me. I hadn’t seen it at first, but after she changed into a beaded gold evening gown that would have fit right in at the Oscars before Leo was due to pick me up, then answered the door with her most flirtatious giggle, I caught on.
