FanGirl

by Lawson, Angel

  “I think I should know.”

  “I think you shouldn’t.” A loud squeal draws our attention to the door. Two attractive women just entered and they’ve spotted Andrew. I take another drink.

  “Tell me about her then.”

  “Tell me why you met up with Gabe last night half-clothed.”

  My eyes widen. “I wasn’t half-clothed!”

  He makes a face. “I saw the photos. Those shorts and that tank left little to the imagination.”

  “Those were just stupid pajamas. This dress leaves little to the imagination.” I tug on the hem.

  “True, but a different kind of imagination. I suspect Gabe would rather see you in that than this.” That comment is unexpected. My flaming cheeks think so too.

  “Gabe doesn’t care what I wear or what I think. We had an argument.” The waitress brings two new drinks, one for me and one for him, even though I haven’t finished the first.

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Zocopalypse and how he’s trying to ruin my life with his new issue.”

  Andrew laughs at this, loud enough to attract (more) attention from the tables around us. “Of course you were. God, you two are the biggest geeks ever.”

  “Duh.”

  “Okay then, Gabe was a late night geek fight. What about you and the ex?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because if you and I are together, and you’re out with other guys, I need to have the story. So, the ex?”

  I sip my drink in an attempt to buy some time. The burn in my throat is less noticeable. “Unfinished business.”

  He raises an eyebrow, but I’m not telling him anything else. I’m learning my lesson about keeping private things private. Plus, Andrew knows a lot about me and I’m realizing how little I know about him in return.

  Instead of pressing like I expect, he looks over my shoulder and stiffens. I immediately look for some kind of super-fan or camera or something, but instead a gorgeous guy walks toward us. “Do you know him?” I ask. I glance between the two of them and it becomes clear, without Andrew’s confirmation, they do.

  Andrew stands and his startled look turns to a smile. “James,” he says, stepping forward to give him a hug.

  “How have you been? I heard about Zocopalypse. Congratulations,” James says. He’s beyond handsome. Maybe even more so than Andrew, if that’s possible.

  “Ruby, this is James Anderson,” Andrew says sitting back next to me.

  “Hi, Ruby.”

  “James and I met during some modeling we did together in L.A. What’s going on, man? Working around here?”

  “Actually, I lucked into a movie filming here for the next month or so.” He turns his attention on me.

  “That’s great,” Andrew says. “We’ve been shooting since June.”

  “So, you’re Andrew’s new co-star?” His green eyes dart between us and I perceive a strange energy in the air. “I’ve seen photos of you two in some of the papers.”

  “That’s me. It’s hard to stay out of the papers when you’re hanging around Andrew.”

  “Tell me about it. This guy attracts photographers and teenage girls like flies to honey. How much longer do you have on the zombie flick?”

  “Filming ends soon — next week,” I say and turn to give Andrew a sad smile, but he’s shooting daggers at James and the level of tension between these two just shot through the roof. “You know,” I say, “I think I’m going to use the restroom.” I skirt away before either guy can say anything and weave through the club to the dark hallway that leads to the restrooms. I’ve barely entered when two girls approach me.

  “That’s Andrew Xavier, right?” One asks. She’s blonde, or wants to be. I’m scared of her cleavage.

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  “You’re the girl in the movie with him — Rachel? Ryan?” Her friend adds. She has stick straight black hair and a hoop in her nose. Ouch.

  “Ruby.” Apparently engaging them was a bad idea. They take the opportunity to rapid-fire questions at me.

  Cleavage: “That’s right. Ruby. What’s Andrew like?”

  Me: “I just came in to use the restroom.”

  Nose ring: “Tell us about him. I heard he has a tattoo.”

  Cleavage: “Right. On his hip. Is that true? Does he work out all the time? Is he on steroids?”

  Nose ring: “Does he ever talk about Sabrina Taylor?”

  Cleavage: “What kind of car does he drive?”

  Me: Frantically searching for the exit.

  Nose ring: “Will you take us back to your table? Maybe we can party together?”

  Me: “I just…”

  And I escape. Which sucks because I still have to pee, but there’s no way I’m going back in there again. If Andrew’s bodyguard, Andre, was here, I could make him go with me, but he’s not, so I’m stuck.

  “Excuse me,” I say, pushing my way through the crowd. I’m close to the table when I see Andrew and James, deep in conversation. Whatever. I’m interrupting. When I get a couple of feet away, I stop hard and fast. So abrupt the two girls following me slam right into my back, knocking me into the couch. I don’t care though, because James and Andrew have my full attention. They’re sitting awfully close. Too close. Knees touching close.

  “Oh. Em. Gee,” Nose Ring says from behind me.

  James has his hand on Andrew’s for a moment before he removes it and picks up his drink. Everything slides into place and all at once becomes crystal clear.

  I am an idiot.

  My relationship with Andrew has nothing to do with another girl. Andrew does not like me. I knew this already, but at least I know it’s not because I’m horrible or something.

  Andrew likes boys.

  I am an idiot.

  “Oh. Em. Gee.”

  g

  [1] Both notorious places for famous celebrities to be spotted by the paparazzi.

  Chapter 16

  James Brown darts off my bed the next morning, scaring the bejesus out of me. Usually he’s low key, unless he’s hungry or sees a dog on TV (which sends him into a complete, full-frenzied panic). I consider my options. Best case scenario? Someone bringing me doughnuts. Worst case? A mob of paparazzi that no longer concern themselves with the property lines have invaded the house. Due to the state of my friendships, I’m betting on the latter. So when James quiets down, I snuggle back under my quilt.

  That is until the top stair squeaks. The one that I’ve learned to skip when sneaking in late at night. I bolt upright, holding my quilt to my nose. I’m considering jumping out the window when the door opens and Iris steps in the room.

  “Holy crap, Iris!”

  “I’m sorry! I used the spare key under the gnome! You wouldn’t answer the door!” she yells back. She’s dressed in ratty shorts and a T-shirt, not her usual standard. Her eyes are red and her tidy braids are frizzy and swept back in a ponytail. She looks horrible.

  “Sometimes people don’t answer the door on purpose.”

  “Sometimes they should.”

  We stare at each other. Finally, I say, “What do you want so bad that you felt like you had to break into my house at the ass-crack of dawn?”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  I wait. Unless it’s an apology, I’m not sure I want to hear it.

  “I think I know who ZWankHard is.”

  “What? Who?!”

  “Before I tell you, I have to tell you how I know and why I know. And it may make you mad,” she says, twisting her hands together. “Super mad.”

  “I’m already angry, did you forget that? What did you do? Sell pictures of me from the third grade? Post my SAT scores? Tweet the video of me from prom?” Guilt is clear on her face. “Dude, you did not tweet that video? I look like a giant blueberry!”

  “No, I didn’t do any of that.” She looks at the floor. “It’s worse.”

  “Worse?”

  She nods and a fat, drippy tear rolls down her brown cheek. If Iris starts cr
ying, then I’m going to start crying and things will turn ugly faster than a group of zombies on a cattle car. “I can’t take this one back, Ruby, and it’s bad. Spectacularly bad. I mean, you asked me not to follow you or post this stuff and I did it anyway.”

  “Tell me.” I pat the end of my bed, but she doesn’t sit there. Instead she goes to the computer chair.

  I wait while she wipes her nose with her sleeve and rubs the tears off her cheeks. James Brown crawls in her lap and I’m a little offended he’s taking her side, but he’s a sucker for crying girls.

  “Come on, what happened? Spill.”

  She takes a deep breath. “Last night, I followed you and Andrew to the club. Derek asked me to. He wanted me to get some video that we could use for promotion. You know, ‘Andrew and Ruby out on the town,’ that kind of garbage. He said I could tweet the first pictures from the website. I couldn’t get into the club, so I waited outside until you guys left.”

  “Jeez, creeper much?” I can’t believe my best friend has become a paparazzo.

  “While I was out there, I saw something.”

  A sinking feeling settles in my chest. “What did you see?”

  “I killed time in a parking lot across the street, but I could see the front door and the valet. I brought my camera with the super daddy zoom lens. I hoped you guys would go for it — like Derek suggested. Andrew opening the door for you. Maybe a kiss. Some PDA.”

  “We did all that! In and out of the club, he held my hand or waist and was sweet. We put on a show.”

  “I know you did.” She sighs. “That’s not the problem.”

  “Spit it out, Iris.”

  “After you left, two girls came out and walked in my direction. I ducked behind my car. I didn’t want to be seen. I felt like such a creeper.”

  “If the shoe fits.”

  “Yeah, maybe. I heard them mention your name and Andrew’s, so I started listening. One of the girls described everything that happened inside the club to someone on the phone.” Iris gives me a sideways look.

  “Okay. What did she see?”

  “I think you know what she saw.”

  “Iris, I’m not playing games.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means this girl apparently saw Andrew and some guy, a good-looking guy, getting close in the club. Close enough for bells to start ringing.”

  “That guy’s name is James. He’s some model friend of Andrew’s. I don’t know anything about him.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “What’s the point, Iris?

  “Is Andrew gay?”

  I want to be shocked, but I can’t. Not with her. “I don’t know.” I lean back and throw my pillow over my head. “I saw them, too. I mean, I knew there was someone else, but not like that. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”

  “Oh, Ruby! You knew? Do you think the bastard’s cheating on you with this guy?”

  “He’s not cheating on me.” This I know for sure.

  “I know you want this to be real and for Andrew to be this perfect guy, but he’s not. I mean, I don’t care that he’s gay or anything, but I’m not okay with him treating you like this.”

  “It’s not a big deal.” Drop it. Drop it. DROP IT! I want to yell.

  She hops out of her seat, dropping James with a soft thud. “But I saw…”

  “Stop! He’s not cheating on me, Iris! You don’t know anything about the relationship between me and Andrew.”

  “That’s the truth, but not because I don’t care. You won’t share anything with me — ever since you got this stupid part you’ve shut me out of your life!”

  “I never shut you out of anything! You’ve been too busy following Nick around, and then you got into bed with Derek! I’m mad because you wanted to post my private stuff on the Internet! Now you know why I didn’t want you to! You stalked me like the freaking paparazzi! Things aren’t always what they seem.”

  She crosses her arms and fixes me with a steady eye. “I’m not the one you need to worry about. I work for Zocopalypse. It’s my job to make you look better, not worse.”

  “Spit it out, Iris!”

  “I came here to tell you those girls called someone and told them everything they knew.”

  “Oh no. The tabloids?”

  “Maybe, but that’s not who I heard them talking to on the phone.”

  “Who was it? God, stop with the dramatics. Who was it?!”

  “It’s just a hunch, and I only heard his name once, but it explains everything. He’s the only person who would do something like ZWankHard and know how to get away with it — not to mention having access to you and the set through Taylor Lyn. Plus the fact that he has a complete and utter lack of soul.”

  My eyes bug. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  She nods and we invoke the name of the devil at the same time. “Reid.”

  ZWankHard

  What’s the latest on our favorite zombie hunters? Things got a little tricky last night when Ruby and Andrew hit the town for the opening of the swank new club, Onyx. Both looked stellar. Ruby’s too-short dress was a little too short, but no big deal. Those chicken legs deserve to be flaunted, clearly.

  Apparently, things became interesting once the pair settled into the exclusive VIP section.

  Our Zource says, “After a couple of drinks, Ruby and Andrew were joined by sexy model James Anderson. Things started off friendly enough, but the dynamic changed the minute Ruby left to powder her nose. Andrew and James were friendly and obviously share a history.”

  We’re not sure what sharing “a history” means, but we do know that James Anderson is a gloriously out and proud model who might also look fantastic in a pair of skinny jeans. Or without.

  Oh, and he also might have a new movie role filming in Atlanta this summer. We’re not ones to make a mountain out of a molehill (okay, we really are), but certain rumors have followed Andrew Xavier throughout his career. Could Ruby and Andrew’s Alexandra and Wyatt’s EPIC LOVE be in dire straits? We are so worried.

  So worried, and so, so bored.

  g

  I go to Andrew’s first. I don’t call. I’m afraid he’ll tell me not to come or hang up or something worse. Instead, I just arrive and, as I’m punching in the code to the security gate, I’m approached by two paparazzi who blind me with their flashes and begin assaulting me with questions.

  “Ruby! Here to see Andrew?”

  “Are you upset at the rumors?”

  “Is Andrew gay? Did you know he was gay?”

  “Are you breaking up? Here to get your things?”

  “Can we have a smile? Please? Just one?”

  It takes all the strength I have not to lose it, but I keep my head down. When I finally get the code right, the gate swings open and I walk as fast as I can to the building. Andre is on the phone outside the apartment. He glances at me and mumbles something into his phone, closing it before I’m close enough to hear.

  “Ugh! I hate them!”

  “They’ve been out there all day.”

  “Can I see him?”

  He nods and knocks on the door. He doesn’t wait for a reply, just enters and I’m left standing alone. Andre is so large and formidable that the minute he leaves it’s like air floods back into the hallway.

  After only a minute, he returns. “He says you can come in,” Andre says, sticking his head out the door.

  He lets me in and closes the door behind me — staying out in the hall. At first I can’t see Andrew, I can only hear short gasps of breath from somewhere in the room. I walk past the kitchen and into the open living area. He’s on the floor, on the other side of the couch, in the middle of a set of crunches.

  “Give me a minute,” he grunts. I sit on the couch and watch. Sweat coats his body and again, I’m mesmerized by his looks. That, and the reality that my fake boyfriend will never be my real boyfriend because he already has a boyfriend. Andrew stops and stands up, gul
ping water from a bottle on the coffee table he’s pushed to the side of the room. He finishes and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “So, I’m not even sure where to start.”

  “Try the beginning?”

  “I don’t know where that is? When I first knew? When I first hid it? My first showmance? The lies? The boyfriends I lost? This stuff between me and you? There are a lot of places we can start.” He looks at his watch and drops to the floor. He starts in on a series of push-ups. God forbid he skip a workout to deal with life or something.

  “So, you’re gay.”

  He huffs out a “Yeah.”

  “You don’t have a secret girlfriend. Is James your boyfriend?”

  “Ex.”

  “Oh.” Well, that’s a surprise. But still, there has to be someone behind all the phone calls and texts. “You do have a boyfriend, though, right?”

  He stops and gets off the ground and wipes his face and arms with a towel. “Do. Did. I don’t know. He’s not talking to me right now. I slipped up big time last night. I had no idea James was even in town and I threw you under the bus. I know better — it was stupid. I mean, those girls didn’t see anything incriminating. All I did was meet a friend, but James is recognizable in the industry and people know he’s gay. He supports a lot of causes and stuff.”

  “I don’t understand then? Why keep this a secret? Why not come out like he has?”

  “That’s the Catch-22 of Hollywood. No one in the industry cares. It’s the most liberal environment ever, but you’re selling movies and TV shows to families and kids and middle America. They don’t want to know this. And teenage girls want to think they have a chance with Andrew Xavier from Drew’s House! They don’t want me. They want the characters I play and those characters are straight.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  He shrugs and drinks from his bottle again. “Maybe, but it’s true. Derek’s freaking out right now — he’s in total damage control mode. You may want to find someone to help you through this. I won’t lie to you Ruby, he’ll try to ruin you.”

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “You associated with me. I’m sorry, I’ll do what I can and, if you’re lucky, he’ll leave you out of it. But, Derek will do whatever it takes to keep this movie rolling smoothly and keep my career on track.”