#Starstruck

by Sariah Wilson

  “I was right. You don’t ever give a guy a break.”

  “I sure do. Just ask One-F.” Figuring that was the perfect exit line, I let myself out and closed the door, his laughter following me as I made my way to the parking structure.

  I folded my arms together, unable to keep the smile off my face. Chase Covington had wanted to meet me. He seemed interested in me, which gave me this fizzy, airy feeling. I could have floated back to the car.

  Busy reliving our conversation in my head, I jumped when I almost tripped over Lexi. I had totally forgotten about her.

  “There you are!” she said, getting to her feet. “I was afraid I was going to have to call on Captain Sparta to find you.”

  I opened my mouth, intending to tell her everything that had just happened. But something stopped me.

  “Here,” I said, giving her one of the envelopes. “This was for our work as extras today.” I unlocked the car, and we got in.

  As I was putting on my seat belt, she tried to give the envelope back. “I know today was hard and long and boring. Take it. So I don’t feel so guilty.”

  I was the one who had something to feel guilty about. I should tell her.

  I didn’t.

  “No, it’s okay. You keep it.”

  She sighed. “Stop being proud. Let me do this. I know you need it.”

  “Actually, I found a job today.” I looked over my shoulder as I backed out, then put the car into drive to take us home.

  “You did? That’s amazing! Doing what? Babysitting?”

  I remembered how Chase had joked earlier and couldn’t stop a smile from forming. “Sort of.” More like movie star–sitting.

  There was an accident up ahead, and Lexi told me to take a side street to Sepulveda Boulevard and then hop on the 405.

  “It was so amazing going into the production offices,” she said, starting a play-by-play of what had occurred while we were apart.

  That nagging, guilty feeling returned. I should tell her about Chase. And the job. It seemed too incredible to be real. I was going to be hanging out with and working for Chase Covington. Who would believe that? I hardly did myself.

  “You know who I saw in there? That skank Amelia Swan.” Amelia Swan, Hollywood’s newest ingenue, did interview after interview about her crush on Chase. She was willowy tall with perfect, shiny red hair and full lips. Lexi hated Amelia Swan. Not for any rational reason, of course, but because she was pursuing Chase and had an actual shot at him. “Who does she think she’s fooling with that plastic surgery? She looks like a broom with boobs.”

  An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Lexi’s hatred was based solely on Amelia’s quest to land Chase. What would Lexi think if I told her he had flirted with me? Because I was pretty sure he had.

  Which really didn’t matter, because obviously this wouldn’t go anywhere. How could it? He was Chase Covington, and I was just me.

  And how do you say to your best friend, “Hey, know that famous star you’ve been in love with and dreaming about since you were nine? Yeah, he likes me and not you.” I didn’t want to hurt her. And I didn’t want her to feel like I had somehow betrayed her or the Girl Code.

  It was nothing. Chase was just a relentless flirt. Nothing would come of it. There was no reason to get Lexi all upset over nothing.

  Part of me wanted to keep my interactions with him private. They had been just for me, and I didn’t want to share them with anyone else. Not even her.

  Which made me think back to the conversations I’d had with Chase that day. I realized I had felt like myself the whole time. But in a good way. I didn’t feel like I had to compensate or behave differently. I could just be me, dumb comments and all, and I never felt “less than” or like he was judging me or I’d put him off. He reminded me a little of Gavin. There was this underlying current of comfort between Chase and me. One that was instant and didn’t have to be cultivated.

  Of course, it had been way buried under all the physical tension I’d felt. Like he was some live wire and I didn’t know where the next surge of power was going to come from. Or whether I’d get electrocuted by him. He seemed exciting. Maybe even a bit dangerous. It was certainly something I’d never experienced with a guy before. Just thinking about being close to him on his couch gave me goose bumps.

  People always said, “Don’t meet your idols.” But they were wrong. Because real-life Chase was a million times better than on-screen Chase.

  I sent Chase my information after I set up a new e-mail account. There was no way I was going to tell him my e-mail was truechaser@siuc.edu. About five seconds later, I got a message from One-F. He sent me some documents he wanted me to sign, including one called a nondisclosure agreement. Which basically meant that I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone about anything related to Chase. I was happy to sign that one. It gave me a legal reason not to tell Lexi everything.

  Then One-F asked me to pick up Chase’s dry cleaning and sent me a picture of the receipt. He also wanted me to stop by Chase’s agent’s office to get his fan mail. Apparently the agency was overwhelmed by it and wanted it gone. He said I could drop everything off at Chase’s house, and he gave me the codes to the gate and the front door. He promised to forward the production e-mails with Chase’s daily call sheets. Which were basically the schedules for each day of shooting, listing what days Chase was to be there and his call time—when he was supposed to show up.

  There were a lot of clothes to pick up at the dry cleaner’s, but the tsunami of fan mail I had to retrieve was ridiculous. It literally filled up my entire trunk. Just boxes and boxes of it. I decided to drop everything by his house on Wednesday morning, as my mom needed my help that night.

  I drove out to Marabella, making sure to cruise down the main strip. I loved this quiet little town. The main street was comprised of Wild West–type storefronts in fanciful colors like pink, turquoise, and purple. It was the kind of place where the locals tore down freeway signs so tourists couldn’t find it. Marabella had the most beautiful, pristine beaches, and the natives didn’t want to share them.

  Nobody had been happy when Google Maps became a thing.

  As I pulled into the driveway, I got a text from Chase. He had stopped direct-messaging me on Twitter and now just texted me instead.

  It was kind of hot that he owned a tux.

  My mother had enough time to say hi and bye before she was gone, leaving me with my four half siblings: Zander (ten), Zane (eight), Zelda (four), and Zia (almost two). I asked them what they wanted for dinner, and Zia clapped her hands together and screamed, “’Acaroni and cheese, Zo-Zo! ’Acaroni and cheese!” I knew it wasn’t exactly healthy, but it was her favorite food in the whole world, and she was so adorable I couldn’t say no. I put my hair up into a messy bun and got started.

  I somehow managed to get all their hands washed and everyone sitting at the table and eating in a reasonable amount of time. Zane was obsessed with superheroes and had on his Spider-Man costume. I convinced him it was okay to take off his gloves and remove his mask in order to eat. Zia happily got more of the mac and cheese on her face than in her mouth, Zander was more interested in his iPad than eating, and Zelda kept trying to give noodles to Mr. Wriggles, her purple panda.

  “Spider-Man doesn’t eat,” Zane grumbled.

  “He does eat. All the time. His aunt May makes sure of it,” I said, catching Zia’s sippy cup before it ended up on the floor. “All the superheroes eat. Even Captain Sparta.”

  This was indicative of how much real estate Chase Covington currently occupied in my brain.

  “Which one is he?” Zander asked.

  “The awesome one!” Zane shouted, giving Zander a dirty look.

  Time to intervene. “He’s the former tomb raider who found a gem that had all the spirits of ‘The 300.’ They were Spartan soldiers who single-handedly held off a Persian invasion. Some of the greatest warriors the world has ever known. And the gem gives him all the strength and abilities of ‘The
300’ combined. He goes off to New York to fight with all the other superheroes.”

  Which made me think of Chase in his Captain Sparta costume.

  And when he was partially out of his costume.

  As if sensing my distraction, Zia announced, “I pooped.”

  Sighing, I got her out of her booster seat and took her to the bedroom she shared with Zelda. Too late, I realized she had managed not only to fill her diaper but also somehow to shoot it all the way up her back to her neck. I gagged a little. “Gross, Zia.”

  “Luboo, Zo-Zo.”

  “I love you, too.” I sighed, carrying her at arm’s length into the bathroom. I got her cleaned and rinsed and in her pajamas fairly quickly, but it wasn’t quickly enough.

  Zander and Zane were in the living room. Zane was trying to see if he could stick to walls, and Zander was ignoring him. “Don’t you have that science thing you’re supposed to be working on?” I asked. Zander rolled his eyes as he put down his tablet and got his backpack.

  I couldn’t find Zelda, and it was never a good thing when she was this quiet. Not to mention I still smelled poop, which meant it was probably on me somewhere. I needed to change out of my yoga pants and old T-shirt and take a shower.

  I found my sister on the floor of the pantry, her mouth stuffed with chocolate chips. “No!” I exclaimed, grabbing the bag from her. “Hurry, we have to get you to a toilet.”

  She stood up when I pulled on her arm and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “I feel sick.”

  Then she proceeded to projectile-vomit chocolate all over me. Although she wasn’t allergic to chocolate, Zelda had an intolerance to one of the ingredients. Our mom had been working with an allergist to figure out which one, and despite the fact that it made her throw up every time she ate it, the girl just could not stay away from it. Which I understood, because it was chocolate, after all.

  Somehow she managed to get none of it on her and all of it on me. With a smile she announced, “I feel better!”

  “You need to go brush your teeth,” I said, slowly backing away toward the kitchen sink, trying not to drip all over the floor. “Zane! Come help Zelda brush her teeth.”

  “Why do I have to?” he whined.

  “Because superheroes help their sisters!” I yelled back. He stomped into the room, clearly unhappy with me, and pulled Zelda away.

  Then the doorbell rang. I went over to the kitchen sink and used a paper towel to scrape off as much vomit as I could. “Zo! Door!” Zander called. I was tempted to tell him to get it, but Mom had a rule. He was too young to open the door at night.

  The bell rang again. It was probably Mrs. Wittemore. She had been a very good friend to my mom over the last two years, and she did not like to be kept waiting when she stopped by. “Hold on, hold on,” I muttered.

  I opened the door, and there, on my front porch, stood Chase Covington. “Hey. I was nowhere near your neighborhood—”

  I did the only thing I could do. I slammed the door shut on him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I’d just slammed the door in Chase Covington’s face.

  Taking in a deep breath, I reopened it. He looked adorably confused. He wore a pale-blue T-shirt that made his eyes impossibly bluer and jeans that had been created solely to be worn by him. And I was covered in poop and puke.

  “Nobody’s ever shut a door on me before.” And I’d never shut a door on anyone before. “Bad time?”

  No, I was so glad he’d decided to visit when I had one sister’s regurgitated chocolate and the other’s fecal matter all over me. “You could say that.”

  “I just needed to get my tux. I thought I would save you the trip.”

  My eyes flicked past him to the dark, quiet street. I thought celebrities were chased by paparazzi everywhere they went. I stepped back to let him inside. As he came in, I pushed myself against the wall so I wouldn’t get puke on him, acutely aware the entire time that he looked like, well, a movie star, and I looked like something the cat found in the dump, dragged across town, and then shoved under the dryer.

  Zia toddled in, sucking on her thumb, as I closed the front door. She walked over to Chase and looked up at him from under her lashes. “I Zia.”

  Chase crouched down so they were eye level. “Hi, Zia. I’m Chase.”

  She reached out and patted his cheek. “Hi, Cheese.”

  “Chase,” I corrected her, and she glared at me. “He Cheese.”

  He straightened to standing with an amused smile. Zia held up both her pudgy hands and reached for him. He complied, picking her up. She quickly nestled her head against his shoulder and sighed. “I loves him. My Cheese.”

  My baby sister was seriously flirting with him. Not that I could blame her.

  “You should take it as a compliment,” I explained. “Cheese is her favorite food.”

  Chase smiled. He had Zia propped on one side like he’d been holding kids his entire life. He didn’t look even a little bit uncomfortable. His gaze traveled up and down my body, only this time it felt like a question instead of a compliment.

  “My four-year-old sister barfed on me. She got into some chocolate chips. Which she’s kind of allergic to. Leaving me with this lovely candy-coated shell.” Great. Another watermelon-carrying moment. He hadn’t asked, but I had to overshare.

  “Hmm. Does that mean you’ll melt in my mouth and not in my hands?”

  A wave of want slammed into me. I was pretty sure I would melt either way. The offer was completely gross on its surface, given where said candy-coated shell had come from, but somehow still hot.

  As if he hadn’t just shifted my entire world on its axis, he cocked his head to the side, and I realized he was looking into the living room at my other siblings. “There’s four kids total?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Go take a shower and get changed. I’ll watch them.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’m not completely helpless. When I did Noah’s Ark, I spent a lot of time with the sets of twins who played my siblings. They wanted us to bond and seem like a real family during filming. I learned how to take care of little kids. Go on.” I still hesitated. “Trust me.”

  Without waiting to see if I would take him up on his offer, he went into the living room and started introducing himself to my brothers and other sister. I watched as he put Zia down on the couch, took off his jacket, and settled on the floor. Zelda showed him Mr. Wriggles, and Zane lifted up his Spider-Man mask.

  As much as I wanted to stand there and be totally impressed at how well he was interacting with them, I really did need a shower. Part of me felt bad—I was supposed to be his assistant, helping him and making his life easier. Not the other way around. I stopped by the laundry room and threw all my clothes into the slop sink. I’d rinse them out later. I grabbed a towel from the dryer and wrapped it around myself as I stepped over mountainous piles of clean and unclean laundry and headed to the bathroom.

  The water took forever to heat up, even though I kept willing it to hurry. When it finally hit lukewarm, I hopped in and scrubbed every square inch. I washed my hair, too, just in case.

  The water finally became hot as I finished. I went to my mom’s room to borrow some stuff. I hadn’t planned on spending the night, so I didn’t have any extra clothes. Borrowing clothes from her was always a little iffy. I was at least four inches taller than she was, and her clothes were either heavily Moms R Us, nurse’s scrubs, or clubbing outfits from the early nineties that she couldn’t bear to get rid of.

  I settled for an old worn but soft SIU shirt that sort of fit and a pair of plaid pajama pants that had belonged to my stepdad, Duncan, before he died. They almost went to my ankles. I yanked the drawstrings tight. Like I was girding my loins, ready to do battle. I grabbed an elastic band from the bathroom and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I looked at the messy pile of toothbrushes and toothpaste. Should I brush my teeth? I decided against it, knowing it would keep me from throwing myself at him.
>
  As I walked down the hallway, I thought for a second there were strangers in the living room. Then I realized all the voices were coming from Chase. He was sitting on the floor, Zia in his lap, Zelda snuggling up on his left side, reading one of Zane’s Batman comics aloud, doing completely different voices for each character. All the kids were entranced. Even Zander, who was supposed to be doing his homework, had stopped to listen intently.

  Chase finished the comic, and the kids groaned when he said, “The end.”

  “Can we read another?” Zane asked. “Maybe we can download a Captain Sparta one.”

  The knowing look in Chase’s eyes made my cheeks turn pink. “Yes, I heard about your great love for Captain Sparta. How you were telling them all about him earlier.”

  Little traitors. “That’s not quite what happened,” I informed him, but I could see he didn’t believe me.

  “Did you know that sometimes at my job I get to dress up like Captain Sparta and pretend to be him?” Chase asked Zane, whose eyes grew impossibly big. Another victim of his charm.

  “Hey, Zo, what’s a school of squid called?” Zander asked. Most likely for his project. I probably should have made him look it up, but I was still a tad scatterbrained over the fact that Chase Covington was in my home.

  “Regular or giant?”

  “Uh, regular.”

  “A shoal.”

  That appreciative look was back in Chase’s eyes. “I think it’s cool you know random stuff like that.”

  More blushing that I felt all the way down to my feet. “Okay, bedtime.” I would get the kids in bed and the movie star out of my house and everything would be fine.

  “I want to say prayer!” Zelda shouted, raising her hand. I had hoped we might skip our family prayer, but no such luck. We knelt down and held hands. Chase offered me his, and I took it. That electric current was still there, the one that made me feel excited and freaked out at the same time.