Page 37 of Exrated

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I’m sitting on the edge of a bed in some high-rise hotel waiting for the rest of the crew to show up.

It’s been two days. She hasn’t texted back, and I haven’t seen Jemma. Hudson’s had her on set with some other guy named Woody. The guy gives me the fucking creeps. His skinny as shit and into all that BDSM stuff. Hudson said something about a dungeon. I don’t fucking know. I’m just shocked she’s hasn’t already turned in her notice.

The door swings open and Don, the camera guy, and Brandi walk in. She smiles the second her eyes land on me.

“So,” she says in that annoying Valley girl voice of hers, “Hud got that video uploaded pretty quick. You know why?”

“Why?” I keep looking at the floor because I don’t want to fool with her today. She fucking has a thing for me, obviously, I mean—#IThinkIHaveACrush—Jesus Christ. Jake is right. I need to call fucking MTV about this shit.

“Because we are stellar together.”

“Huh…”

“I mean, come on, Johnny. It’s good shit.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

I can feel her staring at me, but I don’t lift my eyes. Brandi is one of those girls, the kind that takes any little gesture to mean something more than it does, and I’m pretty sure she’s probably a little mental. I can just see her being that girl that throws her exes shit out the door, shits on it then sets it on fire while Tweeting about it and uploading a selfie to Instagram with the mayhem as the backdrop.This guy was a total loser. #EverythingYouOwnInABoxToTheLeft #BurnedMotherfucker.

I can’t help but laugh a little at my creativity with those hashtags.

“What’s your real name, huh?” she asks.

“What?” I turn to face her.

“Your real name. I know it’s not, Johnny. I heard that girl call you something like Taylor or Tyler…”

“Oh, yeah. Tyler.”

She smiles, her collagen plumped lips not thinning out in the least. “That’s a sexy name.”

“Just a name.”

“Mine’s actually Samantha.”

I nod.

“You don’t talk much.”

“No, I don’t.”

“So how do you know that girl?”

Fuck, does she every shut up?“You mean Jemma?”

“Yeah.”

“We used to be friends.” Friends because it’s none of her fucking business. Like I said, I can see the raging psycho looming beneath those hazel eyes of hers and God knows what shitstorm she’d create if she found out Jemma and I used to date.

“Oh, friends.” She rubs her hand over my back, and I slowly scoot away from her. “She wants to fuck you.”

“Oh, I can assure you she does not.”

“She does.”

“Okay… you know, I don’t really want to talk about this with you.”

Her brow wrinkles and she makes that dumb fucking pouty face girls make. They think it’s sexy, and it’s not. “You really are an asshole, you know it?” she says.