Starstruck

by H. L. Logan

  The day had been long, full of rehearsal, costume measurements, and boring paperwork. I really wanted to be going home right now, but I’d stupidly agreed to… I didn’t even know what I’d agreed to do, but now I was sitting in Jessica’s car, driving to her house to… kiss her, I guess. Putting that much planning into a silly kiss felt absurd. It all felt absurd.

  The air from the open window rustled Jessica’s blonde hair and she tapped her hand on the steering wheel to the beat of the hip-hop music playing on the radio. There was no sign that she was freaking out as hard as I was—or at all. She just looked happy to be driving home from work. Somehow, that made me lose my shit even harder.

  Her phone started ringing in the cupholder between us.

  “Would you mind checking who’s calling?” she asked without taking her eyes from the road. “If it’s the Aorta, you can put it on speaker.”

  “Uh, it says, mom,” I said after checking the ID.

  “Never mind.” Her lips seemed to curl down. “I’ll, uh, I’ll call her back later.”

  When we pulled up to her house, it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. It was a gorgeous modern building covered in glistening windows, but it wasn’t huge.

  “I don’t like having a ton of empty space,” she said, as if reading my mind.

  “Your house is gorgeous,” I replied as we got out of the car and walked up the perfectly manicured garden walkway lined with cheerful pink and yellow flowers.

  “Thanks.” She smiled warmly. “We can practice by the pool if you want. I can lend you a swimsuit.”

  Somehow learning to kiss a woman in a swimsuit was the most awkward thing I could imagine. Jessica seemed to sense this and I realized that despite her ditzy demeanor, she was really quite thoughtful.

  “Or we could relax a bit first,” she said, throwing her bag down on the marble floor of her foyer. “Pop in a movie and a open a bottle of wine.”

  “That sounds awesome,” I said, and meant it. “Do you need to call your mom back first?”

  “Uh, no, it’s fine.” She ran a hand through her hair looking upset for just one second. “What kind of wine do you like?”

  “What kind of wine do I not like?”

  Jessica laughed hard at my stupid joke and said, “I think you and I will get along just fine.”

  For the first time, I felt that was true. Jessica wasn’t the ditz I’d first taken her for. I mean, I couldn’t honestly claim she seemed like an intellectual, but she was nice. Really nice.

  After settling Marshmallow in her bedroom, she closed the door, which I was grateful for. As much as I was warming to the mutt, allergy meds could only do so much. And the small gesture of putting the dog in a room away from me made me realize that Jessica really was a considerate person. Just a bit silly and forgetful.

  I took a seat on the modern leather sofa, reminding myself not to spill anything on it because it probably cost more than I’d ever made in my life. Jessica grabbed some popcorn, threw on a rom-com and we downed a couple glasses of wine, laughing about the cheesy lines and bad acting.

  “You know, it’s probably not good to laugh at other actors.” Jessica said after drowning a long laugh with a mouthful of wine. “To be honest, when I look at some of the dumb stuff I’ve starred in, I’m a little embarrassed.”

  “The stuff you act in isn’t dumb—okay, well, fine it is, but that’s the point. Fluffy movies are an escape from reality and there’s no shame in that.”

  “I never thought of it that way.”

  “You’ve helped millions of people—myself included—escape from their crappy lives for a couple hours. You should be proud of that.”

  “Did you just call your life crappy?”

  “I was speaking figuratively.” I chewed my lip, hoping she’d drop the subject.

  “I just really hope this movie makes a real difference.” Her blue eyes met mine with a burning passion that I had to respect.

  “I hope it does too.” Why was my heart racing? Why were my palms sweaty?

  “Should we practice now?” she asked.

  “Umm, sure.” The galloping in my chest intensified. I scooted a little closer to her, wiping my palms on my pants.

  “Maybe I’ll brush my teeth first.” She licked her lips. “I probably taste like popcorn.”

  “It’s fine.” I tried to dry my hands on my pants again, but they seemed to have become bottomless swamps. “I mean, I probably taste like popcorn too, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “Sure.” She moved closer to me until our thighs were touching. My bones turned to Jell-O. I wanted to do something with my hands, but I couldn’t seem to move. Jessica’s face got closer and closer to me, the wine on her breath mixing with her perfume to create a completely intoxicating smell. Her lips were so close to mine that I could feel the heat of them—and then she burst out laughing.

  “Sorry, sorry.” She didn’t stop laughing as she tried to speak. “It’s just you feel like my friend now, and it’s weird to kiss my friends.”

  After all that tension she was laughing? I scowled, but it only made Jessica howl even more and I couldn’t help smiling too.

  “I’ll get us a few more drinks,” she said, rising. “That always gets sorority girls making out with each other, so it should work for us, right?”

  I laughed, but my mind was strangely stuck on a specific detail: Jessica had just called me her friend. Why did that feel so good? I couldn’t even begin to name the emotions churning with the wine in my stomach when Jessica flopped back down beside me and handed me another drink. I sipped slowly, because I already felt like my head wasn’t on right.

  An hour later and nothing had happened between us—well, not nothing. A lot more laughing. That weird feeling that I’d felt when she’d called us friends had spread through my entire body, creating an unfamiliar warmth.

  After the first movie ended, Jessica put on Kung Fu Hustle, not even knowing it was my all time favorite. It was an odd realization that this was the best day I’d had in a long time. Jessica got up to pop some more popcorn and when she came back, she sprawled comfortably on the couch, one leg resting heavily over my lap. With the warm buzz I had going, I didn’t even flinch. I felt… comfortable.

  “I’m starting to think this kiss isn’t going to happen.” I laughed awkwardly.

  “Yeah, maybe it was a dumb idea,” she admitted. “It just feels weird to do it outside of rehearsal.”

  Her attention was lost when a fight scene exploded across the screen. Her posture tensed and she leaned towards the TV excitedly, but her concentration was suddenly interrupted by her phone ringing. She looked at it, sighed and tucked it back into her pocket. I just had enough time to see it was her mom calling again.

  “Do you not get along with your parents?” Why did I ask that? Was I really that drunk?

  “No.” To her credit, Jessica didn’t evade the question. “We get along. Well…” She ran a hand through her blonde hair. “You know how this business is. Sometimes people you thought you could trust…”

  “I get it,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry for prying. I know what that’s like. I mean, sort of.”

  I told her the story of my roommate sabotaging my audition. I’d meant to show her I understood, but the more I spoke, the more it felt like I was getting something off my chest. I realized I’d never told anyone that story before.

  As I finished speaking, I became aware of how close Jessica had gotten to me. Our shoulders were pressed against one another, faces turned so they were only inches apart. My glass was almost empty, but I drank from it anyways just to have something to do with my lips.

  “My mom was the one who pushed me into acting.” Jessica played with her hair, but didn’t look away from my eyes. “She gave up her own career to help me pursue mine, so I guess I should be grateful. It’s just…” She chewed her lip for a moment. “She started measuring her success by how well my movies did. Her whole world revolves around me. When I have a movie that doesn’t exceed
the last one’s success, she loses it on me, which is—well, bad—but whatever. But now she wants me to drop out of this movie, because there’s no way a lesbian romance is going to be a blockbuster. Real Love means so much to me that I just can’t stand to talk to her right now.”

  When had I put my hand over hers? Jessica looked down at our overlaid palms, then back up at my face as if to ask a question I definitely didn’t have the answer to.

  “So I think you know how I feel,” she continued, speaking slower and slower, her concentration seemingly stolen by something in my eyes. “Sometimes it’s like this business wrecks your ability to connect with people in a real way.”

  I had no clue what I was doing until my lips were on hers.

  I felt the electric shock jolt from her skin to mine, but she didn’t move away. Her lips parted so I could taste the wine on her tongue. Her hand was in my hair, pulling me down onto the couch as she kissed me deeper and deeper. Our rhythmic breathing became deafeningly loud. The softness of her lips was strange, but not entirely unpleasant. My body seemed to have no clue how to react until she pulled away, blue eyes heavily lidded.

  Her hand was still on my cheek, legs intertwined with mine. We just stared at each other. What just happened? Was that practice? It sure as hell hadn’t felt like practice. Why had I kissed her? Maybe there’d been one flashing moment when I’d just felt so bonded to her? Or, hell, I didn’t know!

  Finally, Jessica laughed.

  “I’m so tired,” she said with a slightly drunken slur. She closed her eyes and slid her arm down to lay heavily over my shoulders. Actually, it felt like we were cuddling.

  I couldn’t move, even as her breathing became slow and heavy. What the hell? What had we done? What were we doing?

  Whatever it was, it felt… awesome.

  Maybe it was the wine, or the long day, but I relaxed into Jessica’s arms and let the soft rhythm of her breathing lull me into deep sleep.

  6.

  Jessica

  Amelia was still sleeping when I sat up groggily. I untangled my legs from her and tried to piece together what had happened.

  We’d kissed.

  Okay.

  That had been the point of inviting her over, hadn’t it?

  Something had felt… weird about it. Or, not weird, exactly, but it was something. I’d felt something.

  I stopped that thought—Cleo! I’d left her in my bedroom all night! I bolted to my room, surprised Amelia didn’t wake from all my movement. When I tore open my door, Cleo was sleeping peacefully on my pillow. There were no signs of separation anxiety like scratching or making a mess on my bed. She raised her head, blinking sleepily.

  “Hey, did you spend the whole night all on your own?”

  She stretched out her adorable little paws and rolled onto her back for me to pet her stomach.

  “Wow, I’m so proud of you!” I nuzzled her soft fur. The first night I’d brought her home, she’d sat on the other side of my bedroom door whining until I let her in. Since then, she hadn’t dealt well with being separated from me for more than a couple hours, so spending the night on her own was a huge milestone.

  I tiptoed out to the kitchen and quietly put some food in her dish. As Cleo ate, I peeked back into the living room where Amelia was sprawled unconscious on my couch. Had we actually both squeezed onto the sofa together? We’d really been pressed close all night.

  I figured I should make the girl some breakfast for when she woke up, but I couldn’t concentrate. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling like I needed to take a run to help sort out the strange knot building in my stomach. Cleo was now cheerfully chasing around a tennis ball, so I slipped on some work-out clothes and snuck out the door.

  I always felt better with the adrenaline of a run pumping through me. I ran down the tree-lined path behind my house until all the kinks from the night before eased themselves out of my body. Then there was just the kink in my mind to work out.

  Something had happened last night, and I didn’t know what it was. Maybe Amelia had been right, maybe kissing a woman was a bigger deal than I’d thought it would be. But it wasn’t just the kiss, it was spending time with her, telling her about my mom—why had I told her? I never talked about my mom, let alone complete strangers.

  Opening up had just felt… right.

  And then the kiss, well, that had felt right too.

  Which was a problem.

  I pumped my legs harder, feeling the satisfying burn spread through my muscles as I sped past trees and brush. The kiss was supposed to be practice, but it had felt real. Even though I couldn’t quite say I was attracted to Amelia, the emotion had been there in our kiss. Fuck. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Was never supposed to happen between co-stars.

  A twig snapped violently beneath my running shoe. I was making a bigger deal out of this than I needed to. Amelia had shown me something last night that had made me see her as a potentially great friend. The kind of friend that you have to kiss for work. Just like I’d kissed Oliver for work and tons of men before him. Maybe Amelia and I just had that extra bond because we were both women.

  Yeah. That was it.

  I stopped to pant breathlessly, bent over with my hands resting on my thighs. I hadn’t even realized how hard I’d been pushing myself. But like always, it’d helped to sort out what was going on in my head.

  I let myself jog at a more leisurely pace on the way back. Why had I made such a big deal out of my kiss with Amelia? It made me want to laugh now! Just a kiss. Just two sets of lips meeting one another. Well, and my hands in her hair—but still. Not a big deal.

  I dried the sweat from my face on one of the towels left out by the pool before pulling open the sliding glass patio doors. If Amelia still wasn’t up, I’d shower, then cook us some breakfast. Hopefully she liked scrambled eggs and bacon, because that was the extent of my culinary abilities. I checked to make sure the fridge was stocked before I looked in on her.

  I almost considered telling her about what a big deal I’d made of our kiss, because it felt like a joke now. I went into the living room to check on her and—

  The couch was empty.

  “Amelia?” I stopped to listen and only heard Cleo playing with a squeak toy in the next room. Then I noticed her shoes were gone from the front door.

  Oh.

  Okay.

  I’d thought we’d drive to the studio together, but she must’ve had somewhere to get to in a hurry. Too bad for her, I guess, because she missed out on breakfast.

  Why did that make me feel so… I didn’t even know. Something told me I’d be taking another run that day. Something about our interaction felt unfinished, like she’d bolted after a one night stand. Except what’d happened between us definitely wasn’t a one night stand. We’d done normal friend stuff. And then kissed. And then cuddled all night.

  Definitely going to need another run.

  ***

  With Cleo doing better apart from me, I left her with Oliver for the day to see if she’d be able to spend more time away from me. It was just as well. I rarely got into a bad mood, and I didn’t want her around to see one.

  I felt awkward arriving at the studio that afternoon to start rehearsal. For some reason, I wasn’t sure how to deal with Amelia. I’d thought I’d figured everything out, but then she’d just… left.

  It had felt, well, I didn’t want to say rude, but I dunno. I was kinda hurt. Maybe that was a dumb way to feel. But I couldn’t sort things out or explain what I felt when I saw her leaning against the wall, waiting to start rehearsal.

  Amelia had been reading a book and when I entered the room. Her eyes darted up to mine before looking quickly back down. Was she mad at me for some reason? I shifted from one foot to the other and tugged on my shirt. I wanted to go up and talk to her, but somehow she made that feel so hard. Since when had I ever been shy?

  “Okay, Jessica, Maria, we’re going to start from the top with the scene between Tabby and her mom.”

  I h
ad to get my head in the game. This was why co-stars didn’t get involved. Not that Amelia and I had gotten involved, but I mean hypothetically, that was why we wouldn’t. Well, that, and the fact that I’d never been into women.

  I wondered if Amelia was. She’d said she’d never kissed a girl before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t attracted to women. I wondered what that all could mean.

  Enough! I couldn’t let myself get distracted. I pushed all my feelings for Amelia to the back of my head as the rehearsal got underway.

  7.

  Amelia

  I wanted to watch the rehearsal, but I couldn’t risk meeting Jessica’s eyes. I’d known kissing her was weird, but I didn’t think it was going to be a big deal. I realized how freaked out she’d been by my behavior when I’d woken up and she was gone. Just fucking vanished—no note, no text, nothing. Her message was clear: she wanted to pretend the kiss never happened.

  Jessica had said herself that kissing outside of rehearsal felt weird. So why had I gone for it?

  Because apparently I hated myself, that was why. It seemed my subconscious felt I deserved to wallow in awkwardness. And boy was I wallowing.

  I burned with embarrassment like there were fire ants crawling under my skin every time I looked at Jessica. I had to get over this. If I didn’t stop feeling so uncomfortable, I was going to screw up the whole rehearsal. Our scene was coming up. Could I handle it without exploding in a fiery spectacle of regret? Stay tuned to find out.

  I dared a glance at Jessica, who was fully immersed in the scene. She looked different, having taken on the sassy persona of her character, Tabby. Her words were clipped and terse. None of her cheerful ditziness showed on her face. I would’ve laughed at how brooding she looked if it wasn’t downright convincing.