I dropped my hand from my hip. "You're right, you’ve never seen me. That’s my whole point. You were never there for me.” I took several steps toward him before I pulled the necklace from around my neck. I held it up to him, letting it dangle between my fingers. "You met my mother in Charleston nineteen years ago.” His gaze locked onto the pendant, and I could tell he recognized it. His eyes swept back over to mine, and the color drained from his face.

I took one last step toward him, holding the chain out. "This was never meant for me, so you can have it back.” I dropped the necklace into his hand without taking my eyes from his. "My mother raised me by herself. She tried to reach you, tried to tell you that you had another daughter. She couldn't even get through. You were a big star, and she was nothing to you. But I did fine without you." I felt the tears rimming my eyes, stinging, and I attempted unsuccessfully to keep them from coming. "I'm a straight-A student," I said to prove my point. "I’m in the National Honor Society at my school. That’s how Maren found me. She saw my NHS picture and thought the school was posting pictures of Kari. When she asked if I would double for Kari, I said I’d do it on one condition—that I got to meet you. I wanted to know what you were like. I wanted to meet my father."

He stared at me, stunned, and didn’t say a thing. The tears spilled onto my cheeks, but I didn't wipe them away. "And I don’t care what you do with the money. I didn’t do this for the money. I wanted to help Kari, and okay, maybe I wanted to know what it felt like to be famous too, to be your daughter for real, but I don’t need Kari’s money, I don't need your money—" My voice faltered, emotion strangling my words until I could barely speak. "And I don’t need you, either, so I don't care that you don't love me. I’m fine without you."

He moved then, almost as though the shock had passed and he could react again. He reached out and pulled me into a hug. His arms shook, or perhaps that was just me, still shuddering with emotion. "I don’t need you,” I choked out. "I don’t need you.” I said it over and over again, each time becoming less comprehensible until I was sobbing into his shirt.

He held me tight, and when I finished telling him I didn't need him, he spoke softly into my hair. “No one ever told me. I'm so sorry. I would have been there for you if I had known.”

I laid my cheek against his shirt, letting the emotion bleed dry. I could feel each breath he took. He was my father, and he had his arms around me. He cared about me. It was a safe feeling. It was all I had ever wanted.

And then I imagined him holding my mother like this. She had thought he cared about her too.

I pushed away from him, my resentment flaring back. "You never called my mother,” I said. "She gave you her phone number. She was in love with you, and you never even called her. She had to give up her dreams of going to college. It changed her whole life.”

He kept his eyes on me like he was memorizing my features and slowly shook his head. "I put her number in my jeans pocket and then forgot about it and sent it through the wash. All I remembered was that her name was Sabrina and she lived in West Virginia." He lifted a hand and then let it fall. "I didn’t think it would matter that much to her.”

"That’s just great,” I said. “I went through my entire childhood without a father because you're lousy at laundry and didn’t think any of it mattered.”

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

I wiped my face to clear the tears off my cheeks. "It mattered,” I said, and suddenly felt drained. I’d wanted to hear exactly what he'd said—that he was sorry and that he would have been there for me. I thought hearing those words would fill the empty places inside me, but I wasn’t even sure I believed him.

I said, "Maren told the driver to take me to the airport. I’ve got to change my clothes now.”

"Don't go yet,” he said. "I just met you.”

I shook my head and picked up my street clothes from the counter. "I still have some stuff at Maren’s. If I don't see her before I leave, can you ask her to send the schoolbooks back? I don’t care about the rest of it."

"You don’t have to leave.”

"I’ve had enough of Hollywood. If you want to talk to me sometime, my mother is listed in the phone book. Sabrina Garcia, Morgantown, West Virginia.”

"I want to talk to you now."

I turned and walked away from him, heading to the back of the room where the private bathroom was. As I reached for the doorknob, he said, "You haven’t even told me your name.”

I turned back to glance at him. "Alexia.” I watched the word hit its mark. He understood the significance. Then I went into the bathroom and locked the door.

I glanced in the mirror. I expected to look like a mess, with mascara stains running down my face. It had stayed put pretty well, though. I guess using high-priced waterproof makeup did have its advantages.

I undid my zipper and slid out of my skirt. I thought he’d left, but then I heard his voice close to the door. "Look, I know you have a right to be angry, but this isn’t completely my fault. I didn't know about you. I had no idea.”

I pulled off the leotard with more viciousness than I should have. I didn't want to be Kari anymore. If I could have yanked away the blond hair color and the extensions, I would have done that too. "When my mom got hold of your manager, he called her a gold digger and told her to leave you alone. She didn't press it after that because she didn’t want me to get hurt if you rejected me like you’d rejected her.”

He swore loud enough that I heard it through the door. "I wouldn’t have rejected you,” he said, "and I didn’t mean to reject her, either.”

I should have been happy to hear this, but I thought about all the times I’d wanted a dad so badly; all the hurt I’d had to struggle through. My pain had been for nothing. None of it needed to happen.

There was silence while I pulled on my shirt and jeans, and then his voice came again, this time sounding softer. "Do you sing?”

I bent down to put on my shoes. "Not as well as you or Kari.”

"Are you going to college?”

"WVU offered me a scholarship.”

"What are you majoring in?”

I tied my first shoe slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe biology, maybe physics."

"Physics?” He let out a low whistle. "You must get that from your mother.”

I didn't answer. To tell the truth, I didn't know if she had liked physics or not.

"How is your mother?” he asked.

I tied my last shoe. "Good. Busy. She's working and finishing her business degree. She's had to support my grandmother and me, but she's always been there for us. She worries about me a lot.”

"Good,” he said, but I wasn't sure what he approved of.

I smoothed down my hair, trying to shake as much glitter out of it as I could, then I stepped out of the bathroom.

He was waiting by the door, his hands in his pockets. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the dressing room door swung open and Maren stepped in. Her gaze ricocheted between my father and me, then settled on me. "The driver is ready for you.”

I folded my arms and didn’t move just to show her I wasn't taking orders from her anymore.

"Maren,” my father said. "I'm glad you're here. I want to ask you a favor."

"Anything.” Her voice grew smooth and soft again. "Really, I’m so sorry about this—I was trying to help Kari—"

"I know,” he said. "And that's why I know you’ll be able to handle things with Alexia.”