Fallin' for the Fame - Chapter 3
After all this time, I still suck at this.
Previously: The memory was still fresh—her fingers shaking as she hit send on that DM to Legend Blake. But in the present, her boss’s news cut through the daydream like a blade.
3
The sun is just setting when Justin and I head to my mom’s in his Durango. Hues of lavender and tangerine gleam like dancing strobe lights on a tree-lined street, long shadows stretching across the pavement. A few neighbors have already stepped out on their evening walks, their dogs on leashes, tails wagging happily as they trot along with a steady, timeless ease.
I shake my head, wrapping up my tale of Professor Natalie’s latest announcement. “The least she could’ve done was give me a heads up. This is so last minute.”
“You’re about to graduate,” says Justin, flashing me a crooked grin. “It’s not like she expected you to hang around campus.” When I blink at him, he busts out laughing. “You didn’t think she did, did you?”
I purse my lips. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, really?” Justin scoffs in amusement.
I don’t have anything else to say to him, so I casually check my messages. Nothing new from Legend since his bout of depression this morning… Ugh. He hasn’t behaved this way in months. Maybe I should drop a message about Professor Natalie’s latest bombshell.
But Justin gives me a nudge, his V-neck sweater pulling tight across his shoulders. “Everything okay?” He glances at me, eyes full of concern.
Justin’s been there during some of my worst breakdowns. If anyone knows how difficult it can be for me, it’s him. He was the one who kept me from passing out when we had to take the SAT. He literally held my hand when we entered junior high. Even back in elementary school, the boy had a way of sensing when my day had been good or bad… especially when everything fell apart.
His eyes drift to my phone, and I quickly turn it off. “It’s just… Simone being silly again.”
He nods, returning his attention to the road.
My poor boyfriend. I’ve been lying to him for years, and he’s completely oblivious.
“She comin’ to dinner tonight?” he asks.
I wave my hand. “You know my sister, ‘Life is too short for boring people!’” I let out a light chuckle and gaze at the Dogwood and Maple trees passing by. If I could just sneak off to the bathroom before his dress rehearsal, we could talk. He needs to be in a good headspace tonight.'
“So what’s going on?” asks Justin.
“Hmm?”
He nods at my phone. “With Simone. I hardly see y’all talking lately.”
“Oh, um, she was just warning me not to try this organic shampoo she found. Smells like prune juice and a baby’s bottom.”
His nose curls as he laughs. “What?”
“I know, right?” With burning cheeks, I force a chuckle, gazing out the passenger window. After all this time, I still suck at this. And I hate lying to my best friend.
Justin and I have been tight since the second grade. Before we even entered high school, he knew he’d developed feelings for me. Of course, he didn’t fill me in until junior year. A soft kiss during a study session and the two of us became a thing. A real thing. A beautiful thing. By the time we graduated and entered college, I knew I’d fallen for him too. Through all of my ups and downs, Teddy’s always been there for me—a giant, cuddly shoulder to lean on when times get rough.
But all of the cuddles and kisses in the world couldn’t cure me of my little infatuation.
To this day, I still follow Legend’s every move—every promotion, every song. The two of us have formed a real bond. And if Justin were to ever find out, it would break his heart.
Justin taps his fingers on the steering wheel, humming along to Bruno Mars’s “That’s What I Like”. He glances back my way. “You feeling better about seeing the fam tonight?”
“Now that my future is hanging in the balance? I guess I’ll be okay.”
“Honestly, Sam I Am, it’s not the end of the world,” says Justin. “You never know what the future holds.” He gives me that salesman smile, and I roll my eyes.
“Pressure. A ton of pressure is what the future holds for me. Like a giant latex balloon, stretched to the brink with helium, rising high into the sky, and headed straight for the mesosphere—if a jet doesn’t hit it first.”
My boyfriend frowns. “That’s a morbid way of looking at balloons.”
“It’s true!”
“Well, I’ll tell you one thing, I am thoroughly looking forward to having something besides the Divine-Six this week.” Justin chuckles to himself, but I’m not amused in the least.
The Divine-Six is his little nickname for the meals I cook for dinner because they’re always the same six—according to him. We typically go out to eat once a week.
He settles down when he notices my stern gaze.
“There’s nothing wrong with having a set menu, Justin. I just like my routine, okay?”
“Okay, okay!” He shrinks away, a grin still on his lips. But I don’t slap him. Not this time, anyway.
Justin takes me by the hand, so I put my phone away. Legend will just have to wait.
Meanwhile, Justin wiggles my hand in his, tapping my knuckles along with the beat.
Why’s he so amped up today? He’s like a kid on his way to McDonald’s or something.
We round the corner, turning into my mom’s subdivision, the neighborhood where Justin and I grew up: playing tag together, riding bikes together, taking late evening walks and talks together.
We pass a charming colonial house on the corner with brown vinyl siding and multi-pane windows. It’s Justin’s old house, and up until a couple years ago, his dad still lived there.
Justin firmly sets his eyes on the road as we pass. I still can’t believe he sold it. But Justin made it clear that he didn’t want to relive the memory of finding his father, still and lifeless, in his favorite living room chair, a lukewarm bottle of beer next to him on the table.
I’ll never forget the way Teddy fell on my shoulders, sobbing at the hospital. A brain aneurysm, he’d said. You’re my only family now, he’d whispered, holding me tight. Ever since he’s never been the same.
It’s not just the workouts or the sudden interest in designer jeans, it’s the little suggestions that we do things differently, the grating moments of spontaneous inspiration to “walk on the wild side” or whatever.
“Let’s go snowboarding,” he says.
“We should try a new restaurant.”
“What do you say we make love at that secluded beach tonight?”
And every time, I have to tell him no. We used to be on the same page. I was comfortable with my routine, and so was he. But lately, it seems like it isn’t enough.
I gaze at the sky. Dark clouds push in like the smoke of a locomotive on the horizon. “You think it’s gonna rain?”
Justin shrugs as he whistles to himself, content in his own little world.
Since the passing of his dad, Justin definitely hasn’t been the same. But I guess I should give him a break because, after the death of my father, my life changed too.
Of course, with my luck, Trey is the one to answer the door.
“Hey, guys!” He throws his arms out wide, a glass of champagne in his right hand, an unlit cigar in the other. Trey is a retired ladies’ man, at least that’s what Mom says. He’s got walnut brown skin with thick dark eyebrows, and struts around in khakis and open-collared dress shirts as if he’s waiting to be invited for a round of golf. Apparently, he’s working on growing a mustache, again.
I step in and give him a light side-hug, pulling away as his lips attempt to graze my cheek. “Where’s Mom?”
“In the kitchen,” he says. “You want me to take your jacket?”
“I’m good.” I make my way back to the kitchen, as he and Justin slap fives.
The house where I grew up sits on an expansive lot full of novelty plants and is as tall as the old weeping willow in the backyard. These days, the inside of the place is decorated like a page out of Better Homes & Gardens: polished hardwood floors, classy artwork on the walls, and fake orchids on every table. Back when I was little, the floors never shined, and the walls definitely weren’t stark white.
Despite her decision to remarry, my mom decided to stay here, even after Simone and I moved out. This was the first place my parents bought after my dad got his job, working for The World News—the country’s number one international news provider. I was only five when we moved in. Simone was four.
Mom is chopping potatoes at the center island when I enter the industrial-style kitchen, seasonings and vegetables sprawled everywhere. Water bubbles in a large pot on the stove, the aroma of butter and warm apple pie dancing through the air.
“Hey, Mom.” I greet her with a kiss on the cheek.
“Oh!” She startles as if she didn’t hear or see me coming. Throwing a hand over her chest, she catches her breath. “Hey, honey. Can you check on that pie for me, please?” She casts a half-glance toward the stove before returning to her intense chopping.
I step behind her, peering into the double oven. “Nothing oozing out yet.”
“Great. That means I have more time.” Mom rushes across the kitchen and dumps her potatoes into the pot of boiling water. She stands on her tiptoes as she stirs. She’s always been the petite one in the family. Any height Simone and I have came from my dad. Unlike the three of us, Mom has more curves in all the right places. Dark chocolate skin with burgundy undertones, classy shoulder-length curls that perfectly frame her face. Tonight, she’s wearing a casual, but sophisticated, empire waist dress.
I take a seat at the breakfast bar. “Seafood Chowder tonight?”
A lengthy moment passes as she shuffles back and forth, turning down the heat on the stove, adding seasonings, stirring the pot, readjusting the heat. “Mmhmm,” she finally says, drawing out the syllables as she cooks.
Back when she was raising Simone and me, she worked full-time in a nearby district as a seventh-grade math teacher. It was rare that she found time to cook, so we grew up on fried chicken and mashed potatoes. She only made her Seafood Chowder occasionally on the weekends. But that was before she met Trey and became… this.
My baby sisters, Talia and Tatiana, scream at the top of their lungs, chasing one another through the kitchen, and headed for the dining room.
Mom shouts after them. “Girls, no running!”
They giggle as they circle the dining room table and take off for the stairs.
Mom stops and throws a hand to her forehead. “Samara, honey, have you seen my oven mitt anywhere?” I point. It’s sitting right behind her on the counter. She closes her eyes, releasing a heavy breath. “Thank you.”
I take off my jacket and lean on my elbows. “You need any help, Mom?”
“No, honey. I just…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. She’s reading over her recipe on the fridge.
Mom was still working when she married Trey, but then they had Talia and Tatiana, just one year apart, like Simone and me. Mom decided she’d be staying home with Talia before she even left the hospital. She swore she wouldn’t let strangers raise her babies in some daycare. Simone and I went to daycare, and we turned out just fine.
I grab an apple from the fruit bowl and take a bite.
Mom glances over her shoulder. “Samara, don’t ruin your appetite, okay?”
“Okay, Mom.”
“So how’s school?” she asks.
“Good. But Professor Natalie threw me for a loop today.”
“Oh, yeah?” She adds the rest of her ingredients to the pot.
“Yeah. She’s moving back to the UK.”
“Hmm.” Mom’s not listening. She’s stirring her pot and reading her recipe at the same time. “That’s good.”
“Mmhmm.” I take another bite of my apple. “So after she puts her parrot up for adoption, she’ll be free to join the circus.”
“That’s great, honey.”
I swear she’s the master of pretending to listen these days. Frankly, it’ll be a miracle if Talia and Tatiana make it through childhood with all their limbs intact.
Trey and Justin stroll in, chuckling and speaking in binary code.
“How’s it goin’, Sam?” asks Trey, showing off his bicuspids. “You ready for graduation?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say with a plastic grin.
He pats my shoulder. “That reminds me. A client of mine passed me some tickets to the Mariners game next month. You should come with me and the girls. It’ll be our way to celebrate.”
“Ah,” I nod, exchanging glances with Teddy. “I’m fully booked next month, but I’m sure that Justin would love to go.”
Justin blinks at me, but I hold his gaze. He promptly nods at Trey. “Yeah, sure. I’m down.”
Trey frowns. “You sure you can’t make it, Sam? It’ll be fun—”
“Trey, she said she’s busy,” Mom interjects.
Suddenly, the woman is listening.
She and Trey connect eyes as she reaches into the stove… without her oven mitt. “YOUCH!” Mom drops the pie on the rack and grabs her hand, sucking air through her teeth.
“Mom!” My body tenses and I shoot up from my seat.
Trey rushes to her side before I can. “Carissa, what were you thinking?”
She shakes her head. “I wasn’t.”
Trey moves her to the sink and runs cool water on her fingers. Mom breathes a heavy sigh as Trey gazes at her tenderly.
“What’d I tell you about getting distracted, huh?” His voice is low as he makes googly eyes at my Mom, kissing her fingers. She nods, grinning back at him.
Gross.
Justin tilts his head as he watches them, a charmed grin on his face. I jab him with an elbow, and he stands up straight.
The doorbell rings, rescuing me from my nightmare.
“I’ll get it!” I shout. “Not that anyone’s listening…”
A curly-haired version of myself yanks off her helmet as I open the door.
“Simone?”
“Hey, slut. You gonna let me in?” Not bothering to wait for an answer, my sister pushes me aside and heads over to Justin in the foyer. She smiles, throwing an arm around him. “What’s up, nerd?” Justin chuckles, hugging her back.
I thought I heard a motorcycle outside. I purse my lips, staring out at Simone’s Kawasaki Ninja in the driveway. I can’t help rolling my eyes as I shut the door.
Though she’s only a year younger than me, Simone prides herself on being the original baby of the family—at least until Tatiana was born. When she isn’t racing around the country on her bike, making trouble with strangers, she likes to try odd jobs like bartending and floral arranging. She even tried stripping one night for some quick cash. But she’s never been the type to stick with anything for long. She walked away from a full-ride scholarship for Cheer & Tumbling, claiming that she didn’t want to be nailed down. She’s been a nomad for the past four years.
Justin takes Simone’s helmet and jacket, scrunching his eyebrows at me. “I thought you said she wasn’t coming.”
I open and shut my mouth.
Simone nods, reading my eyes. “I wasn’t… But then I heard about the…”
“Seafood chowder,” I say.
“Exactly!” She shrugs at Justin. “Love Mom’s seafood chowder.”
Justin is none the wiser. He heads to the front closet as I mouth, Thank you, to my sister.
She slinks up beside me the second Justin’s out of earshot. “You using me as an alibi, Sam?”
“What? No.” When I scoff, she slaps me in the chest. “Ouch!” I pout, throwing a hand over my boob.
“Don’t give me that,” she whispers. She looks me over with big almond eyes. “Please, tell me you finally grew some balls and had a one-night stand.”
“We can’t all be like you, Simmy.”
“Right.” She runs her fingers through her unruly head of curls. “I forget how boring you are with your boring life and your boring-as-a-corkscrew boyfriend.”
I suck my teeth. “That’s not true. Justin’s great.”
“Yeah,” she says. “Only ’cause he’s just as boring as you. Tell me, how many positions does he have? Two?”
I take a swipe at her but miss. “Shut up!”
Simone’s cracking up. “It’s true! Isn’t it?!”
Mom calls from the kitchen. “Simone, is that you?”
My sister calms down with her chuckles, tossing an exasperated glance my way. “Yeah, Ma. It’s me.” She takes her time, heading back to greet her.
Copyright © 2025 Kimberly R. Vargas. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. No part of this publication may be reproduced without permission from the author.
Author’s Note:
Hey y’all! 💕
Thanks so much for checking out this chapter of Fallin' for the Fame! I hope you’re loving Sam’s journey as much as I’ve loved writing it.
New chapters drop every Wednesday, so be sure to stay tuned! And if you're enjoying the drama, romance, and all the twists in between, don’t keep it to yourself—hit that subscribe button and share with a friend who loves a good love story.
I’ll see you next Wednesday!
Kimberly R. Vargas
Romance Author | Storyteller of Healing & Love.
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