Page 11 of #Starstruck

“I can take care of that for you.” (Still makes my skin crawl.)

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool. This was fun, but I have a term paper due tomorrow that I spaced and have to go finish.” (That guy had already graduated.)

“I’m not interested in being serious right now. I thought you were down for being casual.”

“I can respect that.” (He respected it so much he never contacted me again.)

And so on and so on. Reactions ranged from some combination of fear to being weirded out or being a little too into it. Lexi kept telling me that with the right guy, it would be a nonissue. That if he really liked me, Mr.Perfect would be willing to wait.

I hoped she was right.

“Who paid?” Lexi demanded.

Paid? Oh right. My “date” with Noah. “We split the check.”

“Did he ask you, or did you ask him?”

“He asked. Kind of. It wasn’t like a formal invitation, more like, ‘Let’s hang out and keep talking about our insane boss.’”

“I’m finding for the defendant. I say it was a date,” she concluded, settling back onto the couch. “What do you think, Gavin?”

That made me blink a couple of times in surprise. I’d never known Lexi to ask one of her many suitors his opinion before. She was more of the informing-them-what-they-should-think type.

Gavin looked up from his laptop with a thoughtful expression. “I think he’s a wimp. He should have let you know whether or not it was a date and if he was interested. People play too many games. It’s a waste of time. It sounds like he was trying to hedge his bets. It would have been a date if things had ended the way he wanted. It was a work thing if nothing happened. Dude should have manned up.”

He was a little bit right. Noah had not been straightforward about whether it was a date or just a work thing. I hadn’t helped things with my inattentiveness and subsequent crashing and burning. Maybe even Chase Covington should bear some of the responsibility.

Tired of the subject and not wanting to share details that would only disappoint my friend, I asked how their days had been. We chatted for a while longer until I excused myself to my room, giving them some privacy.

I had a test to study for, a presentation to work on, and a new job to find.

I didn’t have time to be thinking about another failed date.

Or about Chase Covington.

I said goodbye to the Henderson boys. I cried; they didn’t. I stopped by and saw my siblings and played with them for a couple of hours. My mother asked me if I could help her out on Tuesday night because her sitter had canceled due to a family emergency. I told her I would. Then I started my job search. Mrs.Henderson was willing to give me a reference, but all of her ladies-who-lunch friends already had nannies.

The problem was I needed a lot of flexibility. Over the next few days, I went around to some of the downtown shops, but there weren’t any employers who were interested in hiring me for two or three hours in the middle of the afternoon. They wanted time commitments I couldn’t give them.

Next thing I knew, it was early Monday morning, and Lexi was dragging me out of bed. “Today’s the day. Let’s go, let’s go!”

Even though she was caffeine-less, she was like a rabid squirrel on Adderall. Darting all over the place, checking her reflection, running to the closet to look through her clothes, brushing her hair for the ninetieth time.

Although I wouldn’t have admitted it, I spent a little more time on my appearance than I normally did. Mascara, blush, and lipstick were even involved. A production assistant had called Lexi Sunday night and told us to dress like New York bowlers. We didn’t know what that meant, so we both wore jeans, and I wore a light-gray T-shirt that matched my eyes while Lexi had poured herself into a tight black tank top.

We pulled up at Daylight Studios and were allowed in after we showed our identification and the guard found us on his list. He told us where we would be filming and directed us to park. Once we found the right area in the parking garage, we started the long trek to Building 20B. There were rows and rows of big beige buildings and people walking around in costumes, talking on their phones, driving in golf carts.

Lexi still hadn’t managed to calm down. “We’re actually here. Can you believe it? We’re going to be in a movie!”

I was more interested in seeing Chase in real life. Especially because he’d gone uncharacteristically silent on Twitter all weekend.

We found the right building but were stopped by a PA (short for production assistant). He sent us to get our hair and makeup done and told us where to go afterward, along with the other extras. The makeup trailer was like an assembly line—people were in and out of their chairs in a matter of minutes. My guess was that a lot more time was spent on the stars. I got some foundation and powder and a darker shade of lipstick than I might normally wear and was told to move along. I waited outside the trailer until Lexi was done, and together we made the short walk to the soundstage.

It struck me as funny that when you watch a movie or TV show, the actors look like they’re in actual apartments or bedrooms. But there was no ceiling, and one whole wall was missing. It was like a giant one-story dollhouse. There were massive lights, thick black cables, and cameras everywhere. We were directed to a set that looked like a real bowling alley. A director’s assistant explained that in this scene, the superhero, Captain Sparta, would be thrown through a wall and into the back of a bowling alley. A stunt double would be performing that part, but Chase Covington would be filmed getting back on his feet and running out to confront the villain. There were a lot of excited whispers and tittering at that part. The DA told us to be serious and not screw up the shot or else we were done. Lexi was chosen to stand at the front of the lane, as though she was about to bowl, and I was a member of her team, sitting on the bench behind her. We were told to look surprised and scared when Captain Sparta went crashing through the wall.

Lexi was told that Captain Sparta would nod to her, and her job was to look shocked. She nodded seriously, but I could tell she wanted to squee.

Wardrobe came in and handed us bowling shirts to wear. Lexi put hers on but didn’t button it and tied the bottom ends together at her waist.

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