Fame, Fate, and the First Kiss

Home > Young Adult > Fame, Fate, and the First Kiss > Page 15
Fame, Fate, and the First Kiss Page 15

by Kasie West


  “They got divorced. She quit something important for a love that failed. I’m sure she regrets it.”

  Amanda put her hand on my arm. “You can’t think of love like that. You have to think about everything you gain while it lasts. I’m not saying to quit acting. I’m just saying, you think it will dilute your abilities, distract you. What I’m telling you is having those feelings that come with a relationship—love, anger, heartache, longing—will only heighten your abilities. I promise.”

  I opened my mouth to disagree with her when I realized that I had already proved her right. Just today on set, I had imagined Donavan and how I felt about him, and it had made for the best scene ever. “He doesn’t like me back though,” is what I ended up saying.

  “I doubt that.”

  “He doesn’t date actresses.”

  “What? Why?”

  “He reviews movies and wants to be able to stay objective.”

  “Oh, please. That’s a ridiculous excuse. One you can easily talk your way past, especially because he likes you. He wants to be talked into this. Believe me. You have to convince him that actresses are just like everyone else. So? Will you give this a chance?”

  “Maybe . . .” I wanted to scream yes but had at least a little bit of self-control left.

  She stood with determination. “Then let’s go talk him into it. Where is he right now?”

  A nervous volcano erupted in my stomach as she headed to the door without waiting for an answer.

  Twenty-Two

  “Do you two really think I can go out somewhere in this town without causing a scene?” Grant stood at his open trailer door, where Amanda was trying to convince him to come with us to the restaurant where Donavan worked.

  “He’s right. His fan club will find him,” I said. I was nervous enough showing up to Donavan’s restaurant without Grant in tow, but Amanda had insisted that it would look more casual if all of us went together, just some coworkers out for a quick bite to eat.

  Amanda wasn’t taking no for an answer. “What about Lacey’s car, a small restaurant, a waiter we know, and a hat and sunglasses?”

  “That sounded like you just solved the murder in a game of Clue,” I said.

  Grant stretched. “Why not?” He must not have really cared about causing a scene, because I didn’t think this plan would actually work. But I didn’t care if people recognized Grant. My whole body was terrified with the thought of seeing Donavan, with the plan of telling him how I felt.

  “I thought you had the sunglasses and hat,” Grant said when we pulled up outside the restaurant. He was in the back seat, where he had been lying down almost the entire time.

  “I was just making a suggestion. I thought you’d bring them.” Amanda pointed to the seat next to him. “Put on Lacey’s hoodie.”

  “And I have some sunglasses,” I said, picking them up from the center console.

  “Nice,” he said, putting them both on. My hoodie was too small on him, and the sleeves rode up his arms. I sucked in my lips to keep from laughing. Amanda and I walked on either side of him up the sidewalk to the restaurant.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I ignored it at first. Then it buzzed three more times. I pulled it out to see a string of notifications down the screen. Amanda reached for the door of the restaurant, but I stopped.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Some article. I’ve been tagged in some online article, I guess.”

  “Let’s read it inside.”

  I nodded and followed her and Grant in. It was a Saturday but still pretty early, so it wasn’t too busy. Plus it was a pretty small restaurant.

  Amanda approached the hostess station. “Can we be seated in Donavan’s section?”

  The girl nodded. “He’s the only one waiting right now.”

  “Great.”

  He was here. We were here. This was happening.

  “Follow me, please.” She led us to a corner booth in the back of the restaurant. The lighting was dim, and a candle sat on the middle of the table. “Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked.

  “Diet whatever,” Amanda said.

  “Just water for me,” I said.

  “Do you have carne asada fries here?” Grant asked.

  “First of all,” Amanda said, “she’s getting our drinks. Second of all, pretty sure this is an Italian restaurant.”

  “It is,” the girl said.

  Grant still hadn’t taken off the sunglasses or hoodie. “I’ll take water, too.”

  She left, and Grant said, “I thought you said we’d know the waiter.”

  Before I could answer, Donavan walked up with a small pad of paper and a pencil. Amanda hummed a happy hum next to me. It was the first time I’d seen Donavan since admitting to myself that I liked him, and my heart tried to escape my chest. He looked so proper in his tightly buttoned shirt and black pants, and he was so cute. When he saw me, his eyes went wide. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “You should never tell a girl where you work,” I said, offering him my best smile.

  He returned it, which made my heart beat even faster, and then he seemed to notice Grant and Amanda. “Hi. Um . . . welcome. Did Ash already take your drink orders?”

  “She did.”

  “Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

  “No, we’ll need some time,” Grant said, taking off his sunglasses. Apparently he recognized Donavan or realized we were basically the only people in the restaurant. We’d passed one other couple, but they were across the room. “What’s good here?”

  Donavan opened the menu in front of me and pointed to a few dishes. “These are the most popular.”

  Ash returned with the drinks, and Donavan helped her pass them out.

  “I’ll give you a couple of minutes,” he said, then left.

  My phone buzzed again, reminding me that something was happening online. I brought my phone back out and clicked on one of the links. It directed me to a big entertainment site. Dread took over my chest. The title of the article read: “Zombies Are Chewing Up Grant James’s Career.” My eyes skimmed past the title to the words written beneath. Reports out of filming for Grant James’s latest movie say that it is off to a rocky start. While most leading ladies would risk being infected by zombies to have a chance to act opposite Hollywood’s hottest hunter, Lacey Barnes, a no-name actress, has reportedly said she is having trouble connecting to Grant. That might not be Grant’s fault though. An undisclosed source says she’s a mess on set: misplacing items, knocking over set pieces, and showing up late. Perhaps she’s too green to star alongside a well-seasoned actor like Grant James. Time will tell.

  Amanda was saying something beside me, and I looked over, my eyes stinging.

  She took my phone from me and read through the article. “What the . . . ?”

  “What’s going on?” Grant asked.

  Amanda passed the phone to him and turned to me. “It’s just talk,” she said, but I could tell that this time even she didn’t believe that.

  I shook my head. “Someone called and reported that. Someone who’s obviously been on set and knows what’s been going on. Who would do that?”

  “You think someone is purposely messing with you?” Amanda asked.

  Grant handed me back my phone. “It would be a pretty poor attempt.”

  “You think?” I asked.

  “It’s just a stupid article,” he said.

  “But it’s not just an article, is it?” I said, realization coming to me. “Someone has been trying to sabotage me on set too. Knocking over lights, ripping my wardrobe, stealing things.” I paused. “Someone was on my phone too. I think they changed my alarm that day I was late.”

  “Who would do that?” Amanda asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  Grant didn’t seem to think this was a big deal. “Even if any of that was purposeful, what would be the point? You’re overthinking this.”

  It was hard not t
o worry about it. Just because I finally realized what was going on didn’t mean that the sabotage—if that’s what it was—would stop. I held up my phone. “Will you call them for me, Grant? Tell them we have all sorts of chemistry? Maybe they’ll write another article about it.”

  “I think we should just let it die. If I call, it will just draw attention to it.”

  “Grant,” Amanda said.

  “It’s true,” he said defensively.

  Donavan came back to the table, a notepad in hand. “You ready to order?”

  “Yes,” Grant said, like nothing at all had just happened.

  He put in his order, followed by Amanda. I managed to swallow down my feelings over the article and point.

  “You want the sampler?” Donavan asked. “It’s three different entrees. It’s pretty big.”

  “Oh, then whatever is good.”

  He slowly nodded, wrote something down, and walked away.

  Grant said, “That’s your tutor, right?”

  “Yes,” Amanda said. “And her future boyfriend.”

  “Shh,” I hissed. I watched Donavan stop at the other table and talk to them for a moment, then I said, “I’ll be right back.”

  “You going after him?” Amanda asked with a smile.

  I didn’t answer, just slid out of the booth and walked down a long hall where I saw Donavan disappear through a set of double doors. When I reached them, I pushed my way through as well, finding myself in the kitchen. Donavan picked up a plate of salad off a metal counter, then turned around. He jolted to a halt when he saw me.

  “Hi,” I said. “Is this okay?”

  He looked at a guy who stood behind the stove, stirring a big pot of sauce. “Is what okay?”

  “Us being here.”

  “Customers aren’t typically allowed in the kitchen.”

  I smiled at the cook, who gave me a nod.

  Donavan smirked. “Of course the rules wouldn’t apply to you.”

  “I meant us being at your restaurant.”

  “Yes, it’s fine, Lacey.” He held up the salad in his hand. “But I do have to work.”

  He started to brush by me when I said, “Wait.”

  He stopped, inches from me. Now was the time where I told him the realization I had today about him, but my crushed spirit was making everything feel all wrong.

  I caught my breath and tried to concentrate. I met his eyes, thinking that would help, but his seemed guarded, and I found myself saying, “There was an article written about me today. It talked about all these things that have been happening on set. Things nobody off set would know about.”

  He seemed to calculate what that meant, just like I had. “You think the person who was talking to your director the other day tipped off a reporter?”

  “You tell me,” I said. He was a journalist, after all. He had to know something about tips and sources.

  “I’d guess yes.”

  I quickly filled him in on the other things that the article had said. “Do you think it’s all related?”

  “One too many accidents begin to look a lot like evidence,” he said. He wasn’t acting like this was all in my head, like Grant and Amanda had.

  “Will you help me try to figure out who’s doing this?” Because whether it was a case of absentminded crew members or someone with ill intent, I didn’t want to be caught off guard if someone really was trying to sabotage me for some reason.

  “Absolutely,” he said, then left the kitchen in a hurry.

  When the door swung shut behind him I whispered, “And I really like you.”

  Twenty-Three

  “Lacey,” a voice called from behind me as we were walking out of the restaurant. I turned to see Donavan, so I slowed down to wait.

  “Thanks for being our waiter tonight,” I said. “You were awesome.”

  He had three twenties in his hand and held them out to me. “Tell Grant that a hundred-dollar tip is excessive.”

  I hadn’t realized Grant left that much. “Just take it. Grant can afford it.”

  “It feels weird.”

  Grant must’ve overheard what we were talking about, because he joined us, putting one arm around my shoulder. “I don’t need people calling me cheap online.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Donavan said.

  “Well, maybe now you can brag about how three actors sat at your table tonight and tipped you well.”

  “I wouldn’t do that either,” Donavan said.

  “Why not?” Grant pulled me close. “You know who this is, right? It’s Lacey Barnes. She’s going to be really big one day. If you post about it now, you can say you knew her back when. Do you want a selfie? We’ll take one with you.”

  “Grant, stop,” I said.

  “Seriously,” Amanda said, taking Grant by the arm and trying to pull him away.

  Donavan took my hand and put the sixty dollars in it. “I’ll see you later.” With that, he turned around and left.

  “You’re kind of a punk,” I told Grant.

  “A really handsome one.” He put his other arm around Amanda and led us toward the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

  I looked over my shoulder to where Donavan was helping another table. Now wasn’t the time to talk to him.

  “That did not help your ‘actresses are just people’ argument at all,” Amanda said.

  “I just screwed that all up,” I said.

  “Don’t worry. You can make it better,” Amanda said.

  “Maybe I don’t deserve to. You know what I did in the kitchen when I chased after him? I panicked about my career. Instead of needing to tell him how I felt, I asked for his help. It’s obvious that I will always put my career first; he doesn’t need someone else like that in his life.”

  Amanda squeezed my hand. “It’s just a habit. Bad habits are meant to be exchanged for good ones.”

  “Donavan is a good habit?”

  “I’m sure he can be,” Amanda said.

  “Are you guys ready to make a run for the car?” Grant said. “It looks like your friend called the press.”

  I saw a person with a camera waiting across the street.

  “Donavan didn’t do that,” I said.

  Grant didn’t look like he believed me. He just put the sunglasses back on. “Keep your head down.”

  At home my dad was sitting watching television. It felt like I hadn’t seen him in forever. He turned off the TV but didn’t stand. I sat next to him. I was tempted to tell him about the article but I knew how he’d react and I didn’t need that tonight. Plus, there was still something I needed to get off my chest.

  Instead of jumping right into my complaints though, I started with “How was your date the other night? I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”

  “I’m not, really. Just someone I met . . .” He trailed off like he didn’t want to finish that sentence.

  “I assumed it was someone you had met.”

  He didn’t smile like I expected him to, just patted the arm of the couch. “I met her on set.”

  “On set?” At first the words didn’t make sense to me out of context like that. “Wait, do you mean on my set?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  “Leah.”

  “The makeup artist? That Leah?”

  He nodded. “Does that bother you?”

  I thought about it. I already had enough drama on set, I didn’t need my dad creating more complications. “I don’t know, Dad. Sort of. It sort of bothered me when I heard you were going to put an ad in my school newspaper for a tutor too.”

  “Donavan told you?”

  “I wish you would have told me.”

  “I’m sorry, but I had run out of options. I’d called all the students from the tutoring list. I’d gone to a tutoring center, but they didn’t have anyone willing to travel, not for the amount of money I could pay. It was my Hail Mary.”

  I laid my head back on the couch, feeling more tired than I realized. “I wish you would’ve jus
t listened to me and let me do the work on my own.” I didn’t really wish that, because then I wouldn’t have met Donavan. But right now, it’s what I felt.

  “I’m sorry, but, Lacey, you weren’t doing the work on your own. Let’s not rewrite history here.”

  “You’re right.”

  He coughed a little as though surprised.

  “I know. I don’t say that very much. It’s not my fault you’re rarely right.”

  He laughed, and I smiled. Then we both sat there in silence until he said, “So you want me to stop seeing Leah?”

  “You like her?”

  “I do.”

  It would be so selfish of me not to let my dad have a relationship because it was someone I worked with. I was seventeen. Almost grown up. My dad needed a life even if it might make things even more complicated at work. “I like her too. She’s always been nice to me. You should see where it leads.”

  My dad ran a hand over my hair. “Thanks, I was hoping you’d say that.”

  I stood up. “Just no more surprises.”

  He held his right arm up as though making a vow. “No more surprises.”

  I walked back toward my room. I hadn’t even come close to saying everything to my dad that I’d wanted to, everything I’d realized I felt when I was talking on the phone to Donavan the other night. But I was tired, and he seemed happy, and it was hard.

  Dancing Graves

  EXT. CAVE ENTRANCE—NIGHT

  SCARLETT, getting worse each day, carries a bag of supplies toward the cave where she has gathered the zombies. The first sign of trouble is bloody footprints in the dirt leading away from the cave. She drops her armful of things and goes to investigate. Nobody is left. All she finds is carnage. There was only one person who knew about this location. He had betrayed her.

  SCARLETT

  (whispers)

  Benjamin.

  All the rage she’d been suppressing lights a fire in her chest. She is unleashed.

  Twenty-Four

  I arrived at makeup early the next day and wondered if it would be weird to see Leah. Had my dad told her that he told me? I didn’t have a chance to analyze what was or wasn’t said because Leah was frantic when I reached her station. She was picking up things on the table and moving them a couple of inches only to pick them up again. She moved to the couch in the room and started looking under the cushions. When she saw me she let out a big sigh. “Please tell me you have it.”

 

‹ Prev