Tara had her bag of tricks out and the two of them were laughing uncontrollably at the witch’s nose Tara had glued wrongly onto Stephanie. It must have been well before her brother’s illness. When she’d been excited and full of anticipation, free and happy. Not burdened with responsibility and worry.
He watched the next clip. And the next. So random. So ridiculous. So quirky and cool.
Now he saw why her blog had got so popular. Why it was all those young people liked to tune it. It was fun. She was fun.
She’d compiled lists of whatever it was she’d been interested in at the time. And she’d been insatiably curious, insatiably enthusiastic—soaking up new experiences. New places.
But as he worked his way through he saw how it had evolved in the time since Dan’s accident. To become more lists, less Steffi.
When he clicked back to the home page he saw she’d posted a new video: ‘Three Things to Find in the Rest of the Room’.
‘Morning, everyone.’
She was smiling, but she looked so tired and pale.
‘I know you’ve always wondered… what else is there? Who’s there with Steffi Leigh? Well, you all know Tara, my make-up artist.’
Tara popped her head up alongside Steffi’s, waving at the camera.
‘She’s going to do some more make-up tutorials for you,’ Steffi added. ‘But the truth is she’s also been giving me lots of the info for my lists—as have some of my other friends. Because I’ve been hanging out at home with my brother, Dan—who’s also here with me.’
She turned the camera on her brother. Jack leaned a little closer towards the screen. Dan looked equally pale, but he too was smiling. He was wearing a singlet top and he waved at the camera.
‘I’m not going to be posting as much in the next week or so because Dan and I have some personal things we need to do,’ Steffi said. ‘But I promise there’ll be some super-special lists coming up—so be patient… we’ll be back with a new segment soon.’
For a second her smile faded and he thought he could see her bruised heart, pinching her features.
‘But now… because Tara is here… she’s going to show us her best tips for reducing puffy eyes. If you’ve ever spent a night crying your eyes out, you’ll know the kind I mean… see?’ She leaned into the camera and laughed—pure Steffi Leigh. With heart. ‘Here’s how to fix it.’
Why had she had a night crying her eyes out? Was it because of her brother? Because she was pulling back from her blog?
Or was it because of him?
His heart thundered and his pulse roared like a dozen motorcycles at the raceway. She was hurting. And he hated it.
He picked up his phone and checked his email. The most recent to land caught his eye. It was from her, and it took him less than a second to read it.
She’d refused his offer.
There was no reference to the time they’d shared together. Just a very polite sentence declining his very generous offer. End of story.
He jumped up from his seat and walked—just for something to do.
Then he caught himself and laughed bitterly. She’d been right in her scathing assessment. He’d been running—escaping—his form of hiding. He’d been using work as his excuse. Travelling all the time. Not giving anyone the chance to get close. Ducking out from risk. From rejection.
But Stephanie was worth that risk, wasn’t she?
Somehow—in such a crazily short time—she’d got under his skin. He’d talked to her. He’d let her in. She’d made him want more. And, while she might not have opened up to him, she’d given him so much. All that emotion in her eyes… No matter how much make-up Tara applied, there was no hiding the hugeness of her heart.
And she’d done the thing he’d challenged her to. She’d turned the camera the other way and shown her less than perfect side. She’d removed the filter and then, as only Steffi Leigh could, she’d given a demo on how to cover up again.
Because everyone needed to cover up sometimes. When they were hurt. When they needed to carry on regardless. It was all in how you did it, right? And who you chose to reveal yourself to.
She’d shown her whole self—and from the number of views the new vlog had already had, and the comments, so many people loved Steffi Leigh.
He’d been telling the truth when he’d told her she was the blog. People liked her. And she might have thought she was putting on a persona, but it was all just a part of her. She was sweet. She was savvy. She was strong.
And she was brave. Far braver than him. She’d taken on so much and she hadn’t complained. She’d just got on with it—doing what she thought she had to to survive. And she’d not wanted him to pity her. Or help her. Because she had all the independence and strength that her brother had lost. She had more than enough for the lot of them.