Page 43 of A Little Bit Extra

“Are you done?” I ask, shaking my head back and forth in annoyance.

“Come on.” Lane flashes me his phone screen, which is still showing the photo from the article. “You look happy.”

I roll my eyes, but he’s right. I am happy.

“Well, we’re just friends. I’m not allowed to date anyone at the studio, remember?”

I look from Max to Lane, and then to Tyler to ensure they all heard me. I find them all nodding and muttering under their breath.

“Good. No one better bring this up when Cassie comes over.”

“But—” Tyler starts to talk, returning his attention to the group.

I hold up a hand in front of his face. “Nope. I’m shutting this down now.”

Wrinkles appear in Tyler’s forehead as he squints his eyes and lets out a small groan. “You’re no fun.”

“At least I’m rich, eh?” I smile and hold both hands out in a look at me fashion.

A donut hits me in the face. I twist quickly to my left to find Marcy laughing at me.

“Hi to you too, Marce. Just come in, why don’t you?” I walk over to the sink to grab a towel, running it under the water so I can wipe the glaze off of my face.

“Door was unlocked.” Marcy takes the last seat at the island, sitting next to Lane on a barstool. Max has since moved to sit on the couch and is now flipping through movies available to watch.

“And the donut?”

“For the article, of course, you dumbass.” Marcy grabs her own donut, jelly filled, and takes a bite. The jelly spills out of the opposite end, dripping onto the counter. I’m still holding the wet towel from wiping up my donut mess, so I toss it over for her to clean up her mess before I start stress cleaning.

“I promise, Marce, it’s nothing. Don’t look into it,” I warn, keeping a straight face.

“Mhm.” She shrugs, not impressed with my explanation.

“Anyway, Cassie and Lucy are coming over tonight before their shift at the diner, so you better cool it. I already warned the guys.”

“I’m not scared of you,” Marcy says. She hops down from the stool and moves over by Max, plopping next to him on the couch.

If I wasn’t nervous about tonight, I am now. Marcy has a way of shoving her thoughts and opinions into my business, and normally I’m grateful for her help with obsessive fans, but I don’t need her to protect me.

I walk over to sit on the armchair to the right of the couch.

“I’ll be good, I promise.” I look up to see Marcy looking at me, eyes softened. I nod and return a small smile.

It’s moments like these that I wish my parents were kind and loving and wanted to be in my life. I have these great people around me, supporting me, not asking for anything in return, yet I can’t help but feel empty. Alone. I wish my parents would ask me about my day or find an interest in my hobbies. Except, that’s never been their story.

It’s always about where I’m going or how much I can accomplish. I’d like to say my mom’s better, but she’s not. She supports my acting but always agrees and sides with my dad. I couldn’t tell them about writing, they wouldn’t understand.

Not that I’ve opened up to my friends either, besides the basics. They know I like to write and that I do it sometimes during my time off between contracts, but they don’t know that I love writing.

Looking around the room, I want to tell them. I know they’d be supportive of whatever I wanted to do, but I can’t help but question it. They have known me as Emmett, the actor, for too long. What would they think of Emmett, the writer? Just plain Emmett?

It’s ridiculous, I know. To put these perceived opinions on them, but it’s the circumstances of our friendships. Marcy is most likely stuck with me for life, as my adopted little sister, but we don’t talk about our careers much besides surface-level things. Tyler is busy with his catering, and I love that for him, but we also don’t talk about life things.

I talk to Max and Lane about writing the most. Since they started the casting business, I’ve been curious about the logistics and how they have made it successful. It’s given me a lot of insight on what to look out for if I were to go off on my own and pursue my writing. I’ve told them I like to write screenplays, but that was a random point in time that feels like ancient history.

Cassie is the only person who’s read my writing and has somehow turned into my own personal muse. That’s gotta mean something, right? I mean, I can’t explain the pull I get when I’m around her. It’s magical. I see her and thoughts immediately start piling up in my head, overflowing and nagging at me to write them down.

It’s both terrifying and exhilarating. A chain reaction that I can’t stop or tame. That’s how my brain feels when I’m around Cassie.

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