Page 69 of My Lucky Star
I could have slapped his smug face, but I had to practically swallow my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing out loud. I was supposed to be furious here. Furious. “Calling someone’s deeply considered worldview ‘insane’ doesn’t exactly convey respect.”
“Phish. That’s not your worldview. You’re throwing a tantrum at the universe. Which you have every right to do.”
“I’m not—”
“How bad was it?”
I was getting tired of him cutting me off, but his earnest tone gave me pause.
“Tell me,” he prompted again, more gently. “You said you lived in Auckland. Did you sleep under a bridge and eat worms for breakfast?”
I deflated in my seat. “Moldy student flats and a diet of noodles, so essentially, yes. For seven years. I studied acting, then stayed in town for auditions and opportunities. It’s the biggest city in New Zealand, with the most TV and film productions. All the major studios are there.”
“Why not Hollywood? I saw your showreel. You can do accents.”
I hung my head, thinking back to those years. “I never had enough money to even entertain that idea. I was trying to survive on sporadic income. From one rent to the next. Some of my friends had backup careers and they split their time between something like content writing and acting, or insurance brokering and acting. They were probably smarter, but I’d been taught to go all in. Having a fallback career meant you didn’t fully believe in yourself. I believed, for years. I repeated all these mantras, praying and manifesting shit that never happened.”
“And one day, you just... stopped believing?”
I drew in a sharp breath, my skin prickling under his intense gaze. “Why do you care?”
“Because you’re fascinating.” He dropped the words like they were obvious.
“That doesn’t sound right. Do you mean fastidious? I’m not that either, except with learning lines.” I shook my head, looking out the window. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a peachy glow.
“Has no one ever told you that?”
“No.”
“Has anyone told you it’s really hard not to stare at you?”
I threw him a dubious look. “No.”
“So, no one’s trying to hit on you?”
I thought of my life lately. “Maybe in Auckland, but not in Napier. Except for my old school mate Felix. Sort of. I wouldn’t call it that, to be honest. He doesn’t flirt so it’s more like... courtship.” I winced at the thought.
I’d left my mom a message about the trip, asking her to tell everyone else, which I assumed would include Felix. I hadn’t even called him to cancel the coffee date, which was vaguely set for next week. I could only hope the perpetual postponements would work as the metaphorical bucket of cold water I’d eventually have to throw on that man. I would never date him, even if I ended up back in Napier, all alone. Which I probably would.
“Someone’s courting you?” Cem’s voice climbed higher. “Please tell me it’s not serious.”
I frowned. “It’s awkward. He lives next door to my parents and helps them a lot.”
“Ouch! So, if you let him down, they’ll lose the free handyman?”
I nodded, surprised at how he’d put in words so plainly. That’s all it was. Guilt. Not a good motive for dating.
“Apart from Felix, no one really flirts with me in Napier. Only Kerim. But he’s not serious.”
Cem leaned back in his seat, a wide smile spreading across his face. “So it’s up to us Turks to notice a beautiful woman? Huh.”
“I guess it is.” I turned to the window, hiding my smile. Beautiful, huh? That word had lost its meaning in Napier. My looks didn’t help me with my job. Being beautiful, which I’d never been quite sure I was, had become a waste.
The flight attendant gathered our trays and the lights dimmed, ready for that period of compulsory sleep.
Cem handed me the plastic-wrapped blanket. “You should get some sleep.”
He took his own advice, dozing off within minutes, his head lolling against the headrest, elbow docked against mine. The seats were so spacious he had to spread pretty wide to achieve physical contact. I didn’t mind and kept my arm against his as I browsed the in-flight entertainment. No Turkish TV shows. I settled on a historical film.
