Page 53 of #Starstruck

I also did tweet some posts that were meant for him.

He liked that tweet, and I noticed I had, like, forty new followers. All Chasers. Probably because of how often he liked what I tweeted.

About a week in, I had plans to go to my mother’s for Sunday dinner. As I got ready, he sent me a text that made my heart slam against my rib cage.

It was hard to type a reply as my fingers kept fumbling.

My phone rang a second later. It was him.

“You’re super funny,” I told him.

“I know.”

“It’s all fun and games until somebody doesn’t pick up on the sarcasm,” I said while slipping on my shoes.

“I’m sending you something. It should be there tomorrow or the day after.”

“It better not be a car.”

I could almost hear him rolling his eyes. “It’s not a car. It’s a script. My agent sent it over. It’s about a high-functioning teenage boy with autism whose parents die in an accident, and he’s sent to the East Coast to live with his aunt. He wants to go home, so he walks back to Idaho. It’s about how he survives, the people he comes into contact with, having his first kiss, that sort of thing. I want your opinion on it.”

I shut my front door and hurried down the stairs. “Why? I don’t know anything about scripts.”

“But you like movies, and you’re familiar with my acting.”

“That doesn’t make me qualified.” I put my car into reverse and tried to steer while talking to him. Realizing I wasn’t being safe, I put the phone on speaker and set it down.

“It does. They’re considering Ryan Hofstead for the role.”

Ryan Hofstead was one of those beef hunks who had risen to fame in a franchise based on a YA vampire book. To say he was a talentless hack would be insulting to talentless hacks. He literally had two expressions but somehow kept being cast as the lead in movies.

“He would butcher this part.”

“Probably. After you’ve read it, give me a call and tell me if you think I should do it.”

Didn’t he have a manager and a publicist and an agent for this kind of stuff? Even One-F was probably far more qualified to give Chase professional advice. Honestly, I didn’t even need to read the script. I couldn’t let Ryan Hofstead stink up another movie, given that his relationship with subtlety was strained at best.

“When it comes, I’ll read it. And let you know what I think. Anyway, I need to go. I’m heading over to my mom’s for dinner.”

“Cool. Be sure to give Zia a kiss from me.”

Oh, sure. Zia got kisses. And I got scripts.

“I will.” I gripped the steering wheel tightly, willing myself to be strong and tell him something true and honest, like he wanted. Put myself out there. Maybe he’d return the favor. “And Chase? I miss you.”

I hung up the phone before he could reply, too scared of his reaction. My phone buzzed. I didn’t know if it was a tweet or a message. I didn’t check until I got to my mother’s.

Zia tumbled out of the front door, holding out her arms for me. I picked her up and gave her a big kiss on her baby cheek. “That’s from Chase.”

“I love Cheese,” she said, hugging my neck.

“I know you do.”

“He comes sees me?”

I carried her inside and put her down on the hall floor. “Maybe. I want him to come see me, too.”

That seemed to satisfy her, and she toddled off. I got out my phone. I had a new text.

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