Page 18 of Romance Is Dead

“Not really. My brother does, though.”

“Oh?”

“He’s a senior in college now, but when he was a freshman, he was really anxious moving away from home. I called him every night, trying to help him chill out a bit, but we ran out of things to talk about, so we started picking books to read together.”

“Like a book club?”

“I guess. So what’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, I quickly ran through the coincidence with the upcoming scene and the evidence that the fencing had been removed on purpose so someone could push Trevor into the ditch.

“And look at this.” I pulled out my phone, successfully this time, and scrolled to Trevor’s Instagram. “He took this photo an hour or two before he died. Look at the face in the background. They look pissed.”

Teddy squinted at the screen. “Just because someone looks grumpy doesn’t mean they killed someone. Look at how mad you were at me yesterday. And yet here I am. Unmurdered.”

“So far.”

“Very funny.” Teddy’s own phone dinged, and he picked it up.

“Who said I was kidding?”

Teddy ignored me, tapping something into his phone.

“Hello?” I kicked his shin, irritated.

“What?”

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Yes, you think a frowny face is evidence for murder.” He tossed his phone to the side and ran a hand down his face. “I’m pretty sure I’m getting fired tomorrow, anyway. I don’t need to worry about all this—I’ll be gone in twenty-four hours.” His mouth cracked into a crooked smile, but it faded just as fast.

“No offense, but did you prepare for this role at all?”

“I did.” He buried his head in his hands. “I practiced all my lines and even had my brother run through the scenes with me to make sure I had them down. Then I got here and the cameras started rolling and I just. . . blanked.”

“Yikes. That sucks.”

“And once I started forgetting lines, it kept getting worse and worse.” He rubbed his temples, his hands shaking. “But hey, at least I’ll be out of your hair if I get fired.”

His phone dinged again, but this time he didn’t pick it up.

“Listen.” I leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, momentarily distracted by how solid it was. I decided to remove my hand. “Listen. You’re not getting fired. I’ve seen actors do worse and not even come close to getting fired.”

“Doubt it.”

“No, really. One showed up to set drunk and puked on the AD.”

“That was probably like. . . one of those guys in the Marvel movies.”

I bit my lip, unable to lie.

“Oh my God.” Teddy grimaced. “I’m so fucked.”

“I promise it’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say—you’re amazing. The way you change into a literal different person as soon as Natasha yells ‘action’ is mind-blowing.”

Despite myself, my heart fluttered at the praise. I thought back to the episodes of his show I’d watched, trying to find something—anything—I could compliment about his performance.

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