Her eyes meet mine. “Wow. There are posters of you.”
“I swear to God, if you get one…”
She laughs. “Oh, I’m absolutely getting one.”
“Indie,” I groan.
“You’re pouting in it.” She tries to grab it again, but I block her.
When her body presses against mine as she tries to wriggle around me, I almost forget what we’re doing. I don’t get to touch her nearly enough.
I grab the poster and lift it above my head.
“Try seeing it now, shorty.”
Stepping back with a frown, she folds her arms the way she’s done a thousand times before when I’ve held something out of her reach. “No fair, you always use your height. Doesn’t matter, though. I will never forget those sultry eyes and pouty lips. I bet that granddaughter kisses that poster every night.”
“Have you finished?”
“Not even close.”
“I have to do stuff like that. Photoshoots are part of the package.” I put the poster face down on the counter behind me.
I remember the shoot. It was about a year ago, when Denny booked a fuckload of appearances and shoots to push my ‘image’. We released some short backstage videos from set, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t leave the apartment without Jared.
She grins. “Yes, and you have clearly accentuated your package.”
“Are you insinuating that I stuffed a sock down there?”
“Not at all. No one could fit anything else down those tight jeans.”
“All right, that’ll do.”
“Do you think they sell them on Amazon?”
I grab her wrist as she goes for her bag. “You can be uninvited, you know.”
“Oh, please!”
Sighing, I shake my head, pretending to be discouraged. That couldn’t be the furthest from the truth. Being here with her, messing around—even at my expense—is like walking on water.
I cannot stop smiling.
“This has made my day, Spence.”
“Glad it’s made you happy.”
We carry our coffees to the dining room with her smirking over her shoulder every few steps.
She is so tempting.
“I wonder how many teenage girls stare at you on their wall.”
“You need food.”
We sit with my parents and eat breakfast. It’s so normal and familiar. I had no idea how much I’d missed it.
Indie occasionally looks at me and laughs around her bacon. I should have taken the damn poster back straight away, and I fucking swear down, everything in my jeans is my own. I won’t be telling her that I had to peel the jeans off and almost had to cut them from my heels after that shoot.
What am I going to do when I don’t have her teasing me over breakfast again? I’m not sure how I’m going to make myself get on that plane. I should have let Jared come with me. I’ll have to go back. You can’t stay somewhere just for your best friend. What would I do here? I can’t hang out with Indie all day. She’ll eventually graduate and start her counselling career. She might even move to the city.
I’ll never be happy doing anything other than acting. It’s in my blood.
We’re doomed to be side stories in each other’s movies.
Indie finishes her breakfast and slumps back in her seat. “I’m so full. That was amazing.”
“I almost forgot how much you can eat.”
“I don’t know how anyone could give up whole food groups.”
No one in LA eats like Indie. Ella will love her.
I’ve not eaten like that in months. I’ve been on a strict diet—Ella’s diet—working out five times a week, and sometimes more. The camera adds ten pounds and all that. I have a well-defined six pack now but it almost killed me getting it.
“I think I’m set for the rest of the weekend,” she tells me.
“What do you two have planned today?” Mum asks. “Dad and I are going antiquing.”
I do a double take. “That’s ridiculous, Mum. Everything in this house is from IKEA.”
Indie laughs and taps the Norden table that took three hours to assemble. We were dumb seventeen-year olds when we offered to make it. Indie threw the instructions, and I almost took the fucking thing outside to burn it.
“Not everything. We’d like to make a few changes in the house.”
“We don’t know what we’re doing yet, but I do know it won’t be looking at someone else’s old and unwanted shit.”
Indie laughs and slaps my arm with the back of her hand. “You’re such an arsehole.”
“Go back to America and leave us with Indie,” Mum teases. “I’ll clean up here. You two go and do whatever you’re going to do.”
Indie tries to object but we’re promptly kicked out of the house. They’re giving us time alone. We stand outside the front door, and I scowl. “What if we wanted to spend the day vegging in front of the TV?”
“Where is your sense of adventure, Hollywood? The day is ours. We could do anything.”
“All right, Bear Grylls, what do you have in mind?”
“Well, I’m not going into the jungle and eating anything funky, so we’ll head into the city and see what we find.”
With my heart racing in my chest, I say, “I’ve missed that.” Missed wandering somewhere without a purpose, painting ceramics at some shit hybrid café or trying new cuisines… some that made us gag. Neither of us are fans of oysters or haggis.
Her shy smile makes me want to kiss her. It’s been a long time since I was allowed to do that. I’ll never forget the softness of her lips or the pressure she applied after a few seconds, switching from shy to feisty with one brush of my tongue.
“I’ve missed it, too.”
Other times, when we were bored, we’d drive somewhere new and see what we found. I’d follow her random directions. It’s how I know that I’m bad at indoor snowboarding, and that I can’t escape a locked room. But I can still ice skate, and thanks to an Italian cooking class, I can also make pasta from scratch.
“We’re taking my car. Yours will probably break down.”
“It will not.”
I frown. We might have to take hers, actually, although I don’t fancy dying in that little, rusty roller-skate of a car. “I hope mine starts; I’ve not driven it for over a year.”
“Your dad starts it for you. I’ve seen him a couple of times. He always looks petrified. I’m sure he thinks it’s going to drive off by itself.”
Opening the passenger door for her, I reply, “I told you to use it.”
“I appreciate it, Spence, but I like my own. Besides, I would feel like a twat driving around in your massive, black, drug dealer Range Rover.”
“Wow.” I close her door, chuckling, and I get behind the steering wheel. “I find it hard to believe that you prefer your rusty roller skate.”
“Well, I do. It’s grown on me, and it’s dependable.”
It has yet to break down, I’ll give her that. I start the ignition of my Range Rover—the only thing of any real value I’ve bought, so far—and we drive.
There are a lot of zeroes in my bank account that I should really start spending. Seems pointless to spend it by myself. Why buy a house to rattle around in alone?
“The rust has probably welded every part together, making it impossible to break.”
“Your car might be nice, Spence, but is it indestructible?” She looks behind us. “Where are you going? You missed the exit.”
“We’re not going to the city.”
“Then where are we going?”
“The beach.”
“It’s November. I know you’ve been in California for a while now, but you surely remember it gets cold here. One year we went to the beach in the middle of winter and our lips turned blue.”
I remember that day vividly. We’d been together a few days, and we kissed our blue lips away. It’s the first time I felt that, if I didn’t have her, I might actually die. It was all very dramatic. In the end, sh
e dumped me before we had sex.
“So?”
“So, it’s cold.”
“You have a coat. As do I. I’ll buy you chips, doughnuts, and hot chocolate.”
She purses her lips, considering. “Will you win me a teddy?”
“Even if it costs thirty pounds… which it sometimes has done.”
Thirty-two pounds is what a Minnie Mouse soft toy cost me the last time. It’s the most I’ve ever spent on something worthless. Her smile made it worth double that amount.
“You’d think you’d improve over time.”
“Wow, kick me when I’m down.”
“You’re not down, Hollywood.”
No, I’m not. Right now, I’m on top of the world.
She folds her arms, trying to pretend that she’s not on board with this plan. “If it rains, I’m going to kick you.”
“Violent, Indie.”
“It’s like you’ve never been away,” she says on a content sigh. I’m watching the road, but I can hear the smile in her voice.
It feels like I’ve never been away.
Seven
Indie
It’s getting frostbite cold out. I wish my lips were blue so he would kiss me.
I shiver as icy wind stabs at my skin. I’m going to take my socks off later and find toes still inside them.
Spencer and I walk along the mostly deserted seafront from the car park towards the arcades. He’s wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses. If he’s trying to be inconspicuous, he’s going to need a hat. His mop of dark wavy hair is a dead giveaway.
I love his curls. His hair is the colour of chocolate—almost identical to mine—with shorter sides but long on top. It’s thick, and I’ve only felt it once when he was unwell, and I was playing nurse. I would give anything to slide my fingers through it now.
It really is unfair that he should have such nice hair.
Wrapping my arms around my body, I shiver and scowl up at him. He’s almost a foot taller than me.
Spencer laughs and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. “It’s not that cold, Indie.”
“I’ll probably get hyperthermia and die out here.”
“At least you’re not overreacting,” he replies sarcastically. “It feels good to walk down the street and not be stopped.”
“All that will be over here, too, once the movie comes out. You know that, right?”
He nods. “I’m making the most of it. Home should be fine, though; everyone knows me.”
“To be fair, we’ve not really been anywhere yet. You might get noticed here. This beach isn’t home.”
Although it very much feels like it is.
“That’s part of the reason I took a night flight and came back earlier than planned. Everyone thinks I’m in LA.”
Everyone, I assume, is the media.
“You were probably spotted at the airport.”
He shrugs. “I’ve not heard anything yet.”
Neither have I, to be fair, and I look a lot.
“Did you get stopped often over there?”
“It wasn’t too bad in the beginning but the more coverage the movie got, and the more I was spotted with Ella…”
I really, really want to hate her.
“That’s so crazy. My little Spencer Lowe, all famous.”
“If you could never use ‘little’ again to describe me, that would be great. Let’s go in here,” he says as the sky turns grey.
We walk into one of the largest arcades on the street. There are a lot of families playing different games, and few couples paying more attention to each other’s mouths than the penny machines.
I do hate them.
“What do you want me to win you? A unicorn?”
“Do I look like a unicorn person?”
He smirks. “Cheap tat in arcades, Indie. There’s nothing in here worthy of you.”
“Smooth.” I nudge his arm. “Win me a Disney princess so I can stick needles in it. Get my revenge for her perfect life.”
“Princesses have perfect lives?”
“They marry princes, live in castles, have libraries, and animals clean for them.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “That’s the dream then? Damn, I cannot compete.”
He wants to?
“Sorry, buddy, I’m holding out for a prince.”
“Who has a library as well as that Doctor Doolittle shit going on.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard, right?”
“Man, all I have is a car and an old Tamagotchi that is definitely dead now.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls a twenty out. “Better change this for some coins. Which princess should I win a full-grown woman?”
“I don’t care. I hate them all.”
“Glad I’m wasting money on it then.”
He slides the note into the machine, and it sucks it in. Twenty pound coins fall from the bottom with an obnoxiously loud jingle.
“Wasting money? You’re rich now.”
“I wasted money on shit arcade toys for you before I had money.”
“Such a fool.”
“Remind me why I like you?” he says, scooping the coins into his hand.
“Because I’m kind of awesome.”
“Ah, that’s it.”
I follow him back to the princesses stuck inside a glass box. Spencer shoves a pound into the machine, and the control buttons illuminate. I lean on the glass and watch as his eyes narrow a fraction. His lips purse just enough that I notice. He’s concentrating.
“Oh, you’ve overshot that,” I tease as he taps the button to send the claw grabbing.
Green eyes slide to mine. “Do you want to do this?”
I shake my head. It’s much more fun watching him.
Spence looks back to see the claw releasing nothing. He straightens his back, and I know it’s on. This man will now spend every penny he owns so that an arcade machine doesn’t get one over on him.
“You know a lot of celebrities live in London.”
“The daily commute to LA would be a bitch.”
I roll my eyes. “I mean, if you want to live where famous people live. Lots of them have houses in London. You could still rent in LA when you needed to be there.”
London is only an hour away. I would still get to see him.
“Why do I need to live where famous people live?”
“Isn’t that what happens?”
The claw drops nothing again, and he turns to me. “I don’t want to live in London.”
So, we’re staying a day away then. “They have a big M&M store there.”
“Well, that settles it…”
“I’m being serious, Spence. Where are you going to live?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t finished with the first job yet, and there might be another coming up soon.”
“You have an audition or an offer?”
“I had a producer ask Denny to get me to the audition.”
My heart constricts. “Sounds like they really want you.”
“Sounds like they want to know if I’ll be any good in this role.”
“You will be.”
He shrugs. “I’ll find out soon.”
My smile is probably a grimace. “Great.”
“I’ll be around, Indie. My permanent address is still my parents’.”
He’s not sure where he wants to be. The tightening in his shoulders and my stomach proves that we both know where he’ll end up: LA.
I’m stupid to even think that I can keep him indefinitely. Spencer is quickly outgrowing our hometown, as well as our friendship inside the little bubble we created. The bubble has popped, and he’s escaped to bloody Hollywood.
“You know, if you miss me, you could come out there more often.” He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, but there’s a sadness to his voice like he can’t understand why I haven’t ever done that. We both know he would buy me a plane ticket in a heartbeat, and I would stay at his apartment. That’s not the point.
I’m in too deep at uni, desperate to get the best grades so that I can score a great job, move out, and make sure I never have to return. I don’t spend my half term breaks having fun. I spend them at the library with my nose in textbooks.
I can’t be one of those kids who return home after getting knocked on their arse in the big world. It’s not an option for me. This has to work.
At the same time, I’m scared to leave.
Who will check my parents? Roll them onto their sides so they don’t choke on their own vomit?
Fucked. Up.
I wish I could run away with Spencer. He would have me. He would also want to know why I was leaving.
I’ve read the books; I fully understand that I shouldn’t feel ashamed for not being enough for my parents. Saying aloud that my own mum and dad would rather drink themselves to death than parent me isn’t happening. It’s easier to keep those realities in my head.
There’s no need to get Spencer to notice the flaws in me, too.
“Ha! Suck on that, fucker!” Spencer cheers.
Beside us, a furious mother ushers her child away.
The claw drops a Sleeping Beauty into the prize shoot. Spence reaches down to grab it and presents it to me like it’s a gold medal.
I take the stupid princess and smile. “Why, thank you.”
“Can I watch you stick needles in her? She only cost me seven pounds, so go nuts.”
“You’re a strange one, Spence.”
“What do you want to do next? Steal a small child’s cup of pennies? Push an old lady over?”
I hug Aurora to my chest. “Can we walk on the beach for a bit?”
“Are you going to complain that you’re cold?”
“Probably.”
He tilts his head.
“I won’t complain,” I promise.
The second we step into the cold air, I want to complain.
I press my lips together and he smirks. “I didn’t say anything,” I tell him.
“You didn’t need to. Come here.” He holds his arm out for me, and no way am I refusing that.
I’ll take what I can get. We don’t touch nearly enough but it would be weird if I started grabbing onto him as much as I want to. Nothing has been the same since we broke up.
Just Like the Movies Page 4
