by Dahlia Adler
I think about everything that’s falling into his lap right now—how much he’s taking for granted and how stupid he’s being, letting Shannah near him while Ally’s away—and I want to scream.
My rage must show on my face, because he pales considerably and pulls away from Shannah so fast she almost falls off the chair. “This is so not—I mean, you know this isn’t anything. You know I was just sitting here, and there’s nothing weird going on.”
He grabs for my arm, but I jump out of the way, nearly stumbling on a wayward beer bottle. I can’t even see straight with the rage clouding my vision. It’s one thing for my relationship to be bullshit—my relationships are always bullshit—but not Ally’s. Not theirs. What they have is real—not staged hand-holding and kissing for the cameras and purity pledges, but actual love.
Or at least I thought it was. But I don’t know the guy begging me for my silence right now. He sure seems a whole lot like more bullshit.
As if to further prove my point, the voice he uses to say, “Vanessa, you know me,” sounds like it belongs to a stranger.
“I did,” I say bitterly. “Back when you were actually around instead of ceding your airtime to Josh, and making my best friend happy instead of forcing her to wait for your phone calls every night so she winds up missing the parties and study sessions she should be going to. Somehow, I don’t think ‘cheater’ is that unbelievable a new role for you. Hell, you should tell James Gallagher how good you are at it. He’ll probably write a whole movie centered around it just for you.”
“Jesus, Vanessa. Is that why you’re being like this? Because you’re jealous?”
“I’m not jealous of anything, you jerk,” I spit, but we both know it’s a lie. Of course I’m jealous that he’s getting roles and Daylight Falls might be all I ever have. Of course I’m jealous that he’s been in a relationship with someone for a year and all I’ve had since we publicity-dated is a string of irrelevant setups. Of course I’m jealous that he’s on his own, with his own place and an established career, and his best friend still in town. “Just leave me alone.”
“Not until you promise you’re not going to call Ally with some crazy story. You’re just gonna upset her over nothing.”
“He’s right, K-drama,” Josh chimes in. “Frankly, you’re being a little crazy tonight. Maybe you should’ve brought Wilson to the party. Have him around to keep you in line.”
“I can’t even deal with this right now,” I say on a sharp exhale, turning away from the guys and walking toward the beach.
“Van—”
“I won’t call Ally,” I yell over my shoulder. “But you should.” And then I quicken my pace until I hit the sand, and the sound of crashing waves drowns out everything around me.
I haven’t been on the beach more than five minutes when I hear Bri coming up behind me. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you okay?”
Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply, willing myself not to snap. I don’t want you here, I think, wishing I could push the words out the back of my skull so I could get rid of her without turning, without speaking.
And I wish they were true.
“I’m fine,” I bite out, keeping my gaze fixed on the reflection of the moon in the Pacific.
“No, you aren’t.”
I squeeze my eyes tight, as if it’ll help me emit the necessary “go away” vibes, but my heart’s not in it. I don’t want to be alone. And what’s more, Bri’s company feels like exactly what I need right now.
“I saw you blow up at Liam,” she adds, her voice soft, like she’s afraid to wake a sleeping beast.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She sighs. “Fine. So we won’t talk about it.” I hear a shuffling of sand, and I’m afraid she’s turned around to go, but then I feel the warmth of her presence at my side. “We’ll just stand here. Or sit here. Can I sit?”
I chew on my lip as I contemplate my response, and finally, I give up and shrug.
She drops onto the sand next to me. “So why are you out here if all your friends are up there?”
“I wanted to be alone.”
“You hate to be alone.”
For the first time, I turn to her full-on, meeting her seaglass-green gaze. “How do you know that?”
She shrugs, but I think I might see a hint of a blush in the moonlight. “How don’t I? You’ve told me you hate shopping by yourself, and driving by yourself. And even on set, you’re usually hanging out with Carly or Jamal. Other people separate themselves to get into the zone or whatever, but you never do. Even the exercise you do is always something with other people around.”
“God, are you always that observant? Or just when it comes to me?”
I’m embarrassed by the words as soon as they come out of my mouth—they don’t sound quite how I mean them—but I’m also really curious about the answer.
“I don’t know,” she mumbles, looking out at the ocean, the bangles on her wrist jangling as she draws a spiral pattern in the sand. “I’m perceptive, I guess.”
“Apparently.” I watch her trailing fingers, the way the sand flows around her black-painted nails. It’s the first time I notice yet another tattoo—a tiny heart on her hand below the bridge between her thumb and index finger. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. Why didn’t you say anything?”
She shrugs. “I wasn’t sure I was. Josh just mentioned it this morning, and you hadn’t said anything, so I didn’t know if I should or not.”
“You don’t need my permission to come to a party,” I say, making sure she can hear the teasing in my voice.
“Yeah, well, I came, so.”
I’m about to ask why, when I realize two things: 1) that’s sort of rude; and 2) there’s only one possible reason. She doesn’t care about anyone else here. She isn’t even trying to talk to anyone else—not Liam the Golden God, or Josh, who for whatever reason a million girls find irresistible. She’s here for me, even after last night, even after the…touching.
And I don’t know how to process why that makes my entire body fill with warmth, despite the breeze rolling in off the ocean.
“I’m glad you did,” I admit, and it feels like a weight lifting off my shoulders. Next to me, she visibly relaxes too. “I’m sorry if I’ve been…weird.”
Her fingers keep tracing, spirals giving way to other shapes—lightning bolts. Fish. Hearts. “You wanna talk about it?”
I do, but I don’t. I’m embarrassed to even mention the purity pledge, and for whatever reason, I don’t wanna talk about Zander with her, anyway. As for the rest…
“You can trust me, you know.” Her voice has the slightest tinge of annoyance. “I’m not my mother. I promised I would never spy on you again, and I meant it.”
“I know that.”
“I thought we were friends.”
“Of course we’re friends. I just…I don’t know.” I bite my lip and meet her gaze. “You ever feel like you just have no idea what you’re doing? Ever? Like, I constantly rely on people telling me what to do, what to wear, how to deliver a line, where to be, and I don’t have to think. And I know this makes me sound dumb, but I’ve always kinda liked that. I don’t really wanna think.”
“It doesn’t make you sound dumb.” She scoops up a pile of sand and lets it filter through her fingers. “Not any dumber than me doing whatever my mom tells me to do.”
“Yeah, but that’s only because she’s withholding your tuition right now. As soon as this year’s up, you’re gonna get some job or go off to college, doing…I don’t know what. Important college-people things.”
She laughs. “Except that she’s right that I have no idea what I wanna do with my life. I haven’t exactly taken to her career, and spending a few days on set didn’t really make me want to do anything other than hang out with you more. So I’m no closer than I was a couple months ago. I just keep hoping that she knows what she’s talking about and eventually I’ll stumble into something I love.”
> “Is that the worst thing?” I ask. “Just…not having a real direction right now?”
“It’s not the worst thing, but it’s not the best thing either.” She digs up another pile of sand and lets it sprinkle onto my fingers, which are splayed out between us. “I mean, look at you. You’re eighteen and you’ve been working for…how long? Seven years? Eight? You know exactly what you’re doing, and you love it. You can take care of yourself. That’s so cool.”
The bark-snort combo I emit involuntarily is an unfortunately dead-on imitation of a seal. “Are you kidding me? Yeah, I love what I’m doing, but I have no idea where I go from here. You know how many roles there are out there for an Asian-American actress? Me neither. At least you have a real education and will end up going to a decent college if you don’t figure out the job thing. My parents are afraid I’m gonna wash up with the show in a couple years and end up unemployed, broke, and living in their house forever. And you know what? They’re probably right.”
“Of course they’re not right.” The anger in Bri’s voice surprises us both, if her slight jolt backward is any indication. “Van, you’re smart, talented, and gorgeous. You’re good at this. I don’t know what it’s like to be a minority in Hollywood, but I know you’re not even close to done. You’re gonna be whatever you wanna be.”
I love her idealism and her faith, even if it’s misplaced. The truth is, Daylight Falls has been a great ride and probably will be for another couple of years, but I’ve been doing this—and been best friends with Alexandra Duncan, Mistress of Hollywood Cynicism—for far too long to believe in miracles.
“That’s not true for girls like me,” I tell her, trying not to sound as bitter as I feel. “Life’s different for someone like Liam.”
“Ah, Liam.” Bri laughs. “He really is pretty, isn’t he?”
I roll my eyes. “No comment.”
“Oh, right. I forgot you’ve been there, done that.”
“You know that was all your mother’s idea, right?”
“Of course I know. Those kinds of plans are Jade’s specialty.” She stretches her arms out in front of her, which makes her bangles jangle again. “Can’t really blame me for not wanting to follow in her footsteps, can you?”
“Never.”
“But still, Liam always seemed to me like a decent guy. You really ripped him one tonight. I thought you guys were friends.”
“We are. We were. I don’t know.” I inhale the calming salt air. “I thought we’d hang out more with Ally gone, maybe, or at least chill on set, but I feel like ever since she left, he’s just throwing himself into this whole world that doesn’t have a place for me or anyone else in it. And that includes Ally, which in turn makes her more distant, which sucks.”
“Maybe he’s trying to keep himself distracted from the pain of his girlfriend being three thousand miles away. Speaking of things that suck.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mutter.
“Hey.” Her hand covers mine. “It’s okay if you’re not a hundred percent sure what you’ll be doing in five years. I mean, it has to be, right? If you’re screwed, I’m beyond screwed.”
I laugh, squeezing her fingers. “Then, yes, it has to be. Because we’re both gonna be fine. We just need to make some actual plans, or something.”
“And to move out of our moms’ houses!” she adds triumphantly. “Definitely a solid goal for both of us.”
“I will if you will.”
“I will, so you will.” The confidence in her voice is unwavering, and it makes me smile. It’s infectious. More than that, it’s the first time I’ve actually felt like maybe I can make it happen, especially if I have someone trying to dig out of the same hole at the same time.
“We could do it together, even,” I say, growing excited now. “Get our own cute place. Something close to both the set and Jade’s office.”
“Could we get a shaggy purple rug? I’ve always wanted a shaggy purple rug.”
I burst out laughing. “Of all things, that’s what you want? Sure, we can get a shaggy purple rug. As long as there’s enough space on the hardwood for our yoga mats.”
“Obviously. And fish—we should get fish. One of those really cool fish tanks they have in fancy hotels and whatever.”
“I’m pretty sure those are like a billion dollars,” I tell her sadly.
“Oh.” Her face falls. “Well, maybe just a dinky little goldfish bowl then. I’ve always wanted a pet.”
“I thought you’ve always wanted a shaggy purple rug.”
“That too. Shockingly, Jade wouldn’t let me have either one.”
“I am shocked. I bet you’d make a great fish mom, too.”
“I totally would, right? I’d spoil those babies rotten.”
“I believe it,” I say sincerely. “You are a very excellent caretaker.” I realize then that her hand is still on mine, and I hook my pinky around hers. “I really am glad you came.”
She swallows hard, but doesn’t respond.
For the second time in two days, I feel like a complete and total idiot, and I quickly slip my hand out from hers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”
“You know, you don’t flirt like a straight girl,” she murmurs, the words rolling right through my body to curl my toes.
My skin prickles with heat as a guilty flush steals over me, and I’m grateful it’s hidden by the dark. I guess I was flirting, but…why? I mean, yeah, there’s no ignoring that she’s attractive, but it’s not like she’s the first girl I’ve ever noticed that about; I work in freaking Hollywood. And of course I like hanging out with her, and feel like I can talk to her—she’s a friend. Period. That’s all girls are to me.
Isn’t it?
“I’m sorry,” I rasp again, and mean it.
“I’ll stop.” She’s silent. And then fingertips, soft and cool as they sweep through my hair, rest on the base of my neck. “No,” she says, softer now, her touch tingling my skin. “Please don’t.”
Oh God. The prickle of heat blazes brighter, lower, and there isn’t any ignoring what it means. I don’t understand how, or why, but I am turned-on beyond belief.
By a girl.
And I really, really don’t want to stop flirting with her.
“I should go,” I say, forcing myself to stand. “We’re drunk, and…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence. I’m not even really drunk. Neither is she. But I don’t want to start anything I don’t know how to finish. Hell, something I don’t even know how to start. What could even happen? My mother would go ballistic. My fanbase would revolt like crazy. I don’t even know which of us Jade would kill first. And Zander…
Her jaw ticks, and I realize I’ve definitely said the wrong thing. “Yeah, okay. Have a good night, then.” She jumps up and starts to stalk back to Josh’s house, and even though I know I should let her, I can’t let the night end like that.
“Bri, wait.”
She turns back, silently.
“It’s not…I mean, it’s not you, or that I don’t want… It’s…ugh.” I’m not making sense, which is to be expected since it doesn’t really make sense in my brain, either. “I’m with Zander, and your mom is my publicist, and things are just crazy.” I take another deep breath of cleansing salt air. The look on her face—a combination of hurt and anger—is clawing at my gut, and I know I have to say what I’m really feeling, even if it’s too weird to process. “But…I’m not trying to confuse you.” I drop my voice to a near-whisper, even though no one else from the party has trickled onto the beach. “I’m confused. About you, and how I feel, and why for some reason I am still thinking about the fact that you called me smart and talented and gorgeous.”
For a second, her full lips curve into a smile, and I think, I love your mouth. Never have I looked at someone and thought, I love your mouth. But I do love hers. Then the smile vanishes, and she says, “You’re right. You should go. Or I should go. Going should happen.”
I smile sheepishly. “Yeah, exactly.�
� Hopefully both of us will think more clearly in the morning, because this is a train wreck waiting to happen on infinity levels. “We’ll talk soon, or something.”
“Yes. Definitely. G’night, Park.” She wraps her fingers in the chain of her necklace and takes off, leaving me staring after her, trembling, every inch of my skin on fire.
Chapter Thirteen
Josh
I feel like shit when I wake up in the morning, or maybe it’s afternoon. It takes a minute of squinting to see the numbers on my clock, but no, it’s only ten thirty. My instinct is to go back to sleep, but my mouth feels like I’ve chewed off the ashy end of a cigarette. After a minute, I know nothing’s happening until I get a bottle of water.
Halfway to the kitchen, I freeze. There’s a voice floating out of my kitchen. I’m pretty sure I didn’t nail anyone last night, thanks to Chuck the Walking Cockblock, so who the hell is in my house?
I edge closer and hear, “I’m sorry, A. I was just having a really crappy day. It wasn’t anything.” She pauses, presumably waiting for a response, and when I hear none, I realize I’m eavesdropping on Vanessa talking to Ally on the phone.
Right. I completely forgot I let K-drama stay here last night. I’ve never seen her get too drunk to drive herself home, but she was definitely in no condition by the end of the party last night; she’s a shitty enough driver sober.
I walk into the kitchen just as she’s hanging up. Her back is to me, her elbows resting on the granite countertop of the island, and she’s wearing the clothes I lent her last night—an old Clippers T-shirt and a pair of boxers. I don’t usually give a crap about legs unless they’re wrapped around my neck, but I have to admit, hers are pretty nice.
