What I Know Now

6b - Rachel

My cell buzzed with yet another message from my parents. I was ready to conk out, but I glanced at my phone remorsefully. There had been a slew of texts and voicemails from my family. Mostly, I had ignored them. But I needed to tell somebody about my casting. And, generally speaking, I just needed to talk to someone I had known for more than a week who wasn’t Kim, even if I couldn’t talk about the things I really needed to discuss.

But I also couldn’t tell Mom about Wonder Woman or it would be an hour before the whole world knew, and I couldn’t call Mom and not tell her. So I called Rachel instead. It was late, but it was also Friday.

“Well, if it isn’t my little sister,” she said when she picked up. “Mom says you’ve been in LA all week. Are you planning on coming home?”

I smiled. Rachel was three years older, but she grew up in my shadow. She had earned the right to needle me whenever she pleased.

“You lost whatever claim you had left to calling me ‘little sister’ when I finished college first,” I teased.

“Pff, fine. Come down to the bar with me and I’ll buy you a couple shots – oh wait, that’s right. You’re not old enough to drink.”

“Wouldn’t want to, anyway. My body is a temple.”

“A temple you pay tribute to with greasy cheeseburgers from McDonald’s!”

She had a point.

“Well, anyway, you have time to talk, or are you out with Daniel?”

She drawled, “Ohhh, as the elder sibling, I think I can make time to properly enlighten you with my advanced wisdom and experience.”

“We graduated high school together and I’ve been out working for six months while you just finished your degree. Yes, please tell me all about your wisdom and experience at doing things at a slower pace,” I said.

“I’m sorry we can’t all be super-geniuses that donate our academic scholarships to more deserving individuals,” she said. That was the closest I was going to get toward gratitude from her in this conversation.

“So yeah, uh, Los Angeles…”

“Mom told me you got flown down for an interview?” she said. “What’s that about? And why are you still there if it’s just an interview?”

I said, “Oh, the interview was just a formality. They were already going to hire me.”

“Of course they would,” she said, with obvious eye-rolling. “Who wouldn’t want to hire the great Abigail Phoenix? I used to hate you when everyone would go, ‘Aristoklis? Are you related to Abby?’ At this point, I wish you’d use the family name so I could at least cling to your coattails.”

I laughed politely. “Well, this is a little different. I passed the first round without trouble. My agent likes me just fine. It’s the contract he’s working out for me now that was a little trickier.”

“You have an agent?” she said.

“Don’t act surprised,” I said. “I’ve had an agent before. I had to hire somebody when I realized N-Hance wasn’t just going to have me work behind the scenes.”

“Yeah. Smooth move, by the way – killing your co-worker.”

“I was ready to move on,” I said sarcastically. “It was a great way to get out of my contract.”

“…that just makes me even more frightened of you. Are they still going to sell those videos?”

“I think so,” I said. “Once they realized that more of the public supported me for defending myself than hated me for killing their beloved MMA star, they realized they needed to put something out until they could find a new headliner.”