Page 7 of The Fake Script

“Exactly my point.” I quirk an eyebrow. “Stay if you want. I’ll come back in the afternoon.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Hayley tells Alice. “We’ll miss some of the shoot during our trip, so I want to watch as much as I can.”

I swallow hard as reality hits me again. I reallyamthe last one standing. Both of my friends have big plans for the summer with their boyfriends. Alice, Deacon, and his niece, Lola, are going to France with Maxime and Hayley. Both Alice and her brother Maxime were born in the US to an American mother, but they lived their entire lives in France with their dad, and they’re paying him a visit this summer. They invited me to come, and I honestly considered it since Lola is tagging along—she might be fourteen, but she’s a cool kid. In the end, I decided I’d rather stay here at the shop. Peopling isn’t my thing. Besides, I couldn’t leave our bookstore cat, Mr. Darcy, all alone. Or the production crew, for that matter. Someone needs to keep an eye on what they’re doing to our store.

I turn around to leave when Stuart, the assistant director, spots us.

“Hey! Did you see those first takes? What did you think?”

“It was so fun!” Alice says, nodding eagerly.

“Definitely,” Hayley adds. “Thanks for letting us watch.”

His eyes land on me, and I just nod, forcing a smile.

“Come on,” he says. “Meet the cast.”

“Oh n—” I try to get away, but I’m trapped between Alice and Hayley, who are already hustling behind him. Stuart looks around for a second. “Now, where did they go?”

“It’s fine,” I quickly say. “I’m sure they’re busy.”

“Ah, here’s Auston,” he calls. As if I hadn’t spotted him already. He’s chatting and joking with crew members like they’re old friends. On hearing his name, he turns around and saunters toward us. Stuart smiles at Auston and gestures toward our group. “Here are the bookstore owners. They live right above.”

Auston graces us with a full smile. It’s so bright and charming, it might have stunned me, because for a second, I’m unable to take a breath. “Nice to meet you. I’m Auston.” He extends his hand to Alice, who shakes it vigorously.

“I’m Alice. Such an honor to meet you.”

“Hayley. Pleasure to meet you,” she says in turn, shaking his hand.

Finally, he extends his hand toward me, and I catch his gaze. Part of me expects a frown, a furrowed brow—any sign that he recognizes me, but his expression stays neutral.

Of course he doesn’t recognize me. Why would he? Ten years have passed. Besides, we were only friends for a few months before he left. He might have been my first and only love, but even back then, I was already one of many.

“Hi, I’m Emma,” I say, striving to smile and look casual.

Who cares if he doesn’t remember me? I don’twanthim to. It’s better this way. That was a long time ago, and I got over him. I’ll just erase the past from my memory and pretend that everything between us never happened. Just like he obviously has.

4

A New Perspective

Auston

I think I just took a bullet to the chest. No, this is so much worse. My heart is racing faster than it has in years, my body temperature is ricocheting between boiling hot and freezing cold, and my mouth has gone dry.

Emma Sterling is here. In Brooklyn. On the street where we’re filming. I quickly notice she looks different, less animated and sparkling than she was in high school, but it’s her. I’d recognize her anywhere. This movie just became a lot more interesting.

“I’m Auston,” I say on auto-pilot. It’s a good thing I’m an actor and know a thing or two about keeping a poker face, or my shock would be blatantly obvious. Swallowing hard, I shake her hand. When I do, it’s like something straight out of a movie. Cue the slow-motion camera and the CGI sparks added as special effects. Memories of our first kiss bombard my mind, and suddenly, I’m sixteen and in love all over again. The feeling was always there, lingering in the back of my heart, but now it’s front and center again.

My gaze remains trapped by her piercing blue eyes, and I marvel at the effect they still have on me after all this time. They were always her best feature, though they have a lot of competition, between the way her black hair contrasts against her velvet porcelain skin, her tall and lean figure, and her endless legs. But in the end, those eyes win, hands down. The same eyes that have been haunting me for ten years. For the longest time, I couldn’t fall asleep without seeing her in my dreams, pleading for me to stay. And now, they’re in front of me once more.

“Nice to meet you,” she says in a businesslike tone, telling me that she clearly has no idea who I am. A stab of disappointment pricks my heart. Sure, we were friends for only six months. But I really fell for her, and I thought she fell for me too. Leaving for LA was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I even fought my mom over it. I wanted to refuse the role, or ask for more time so I could be with Emma, at least for a while, but Mom talked me out of it. She told me I had to think about my future, reminded me that I could help support my family. And she was right. That role launched my career. I wouldn’t be here without it. Still, I wonder what would have happened if I’d refused to leave. Would Emma remember me now?

I open my mouth to say something. Anything. But Emma’s faster.

“Um, I have to go. Have a nice day.” With that, she spins on her heel, her friends trailing after her.

I want to follow them, greedy for more Emma time, but my feet stay rooted to the ground. When I blink, Jill from makeup is already touching up my nose, and my mom appears at my side with a granola bar.

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