Page 6 of Hollywood

“Bullshit. You haven’t asked me one question about myself which leads me to believe that you don’t care about me. It’s fine, really.” I shook my head, disappointed and resigned to another horrible end to another terrible date. “We’re just not right for each other. Thanks for dinner,” I told him as Istared longingly at the untouched entrée. “Or for the intent of dinner, anyway.”

“Whatever,” he muttered and rolled his eyes. “The fucking date just started. I was going to ask about you.”

And with that answer I no longer had to feel bad about ending the date early. Any man who was going to do something sincere would have simply done it. “Okay. Well then, my bad.” I flashed a smile and grabbed my purse, walking out of the nice restaurant with my head held high. Another disastrous date on the books.

The night air hit my skin, and I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the tension seep out of my body until I was relaxed, and Brad was nothing more than a memory. But he was a memory I had to yell at my bestie about. I pulled out my phone while I waited for the rideshare I summoned and gave her a piece of my mind.

ME: The date was the worst.

LUISA: What? Why? Tell me everything and don’t leave anything out. I’m working so I can’t talk but I need the details. NOW.

ME: Again b/c of course it was! I think there might be something wrong with me since the Brads of the world just aren’t doing it for me. He’s conventionally attractive but the same way a cream sweater is, boring as fuck. These are boys and what I need is a man… a man like Hollywood. He’s incredible and when I think about sex, it’s his face I see. He’s the reason my panties got wet and my nipples ached painfully. I want him with a passion Ididn’t know I possessed, and I can’t date these boys until he tells me that he’s not interested.

I stared at my screen in the back of the rideshare, ignoring the driver as he sang along to nineties pop music that was annoyingly catchy. I kept my gaze on the screen waiting for Luisa to respond even as I got out of the car and rated the driver. While I walked up the front steps and into the dim house because my dad was out. Again.

Luisa didn’t answer.

I was about to text her back when my phone buzzed in my hand, but it wasn’t Luisa. No, it was Hollywood. What? How?

HOLLYWOOD: Was there something you wanted to say to me Winter?

Holy. Shit. What does that mean? I flicked out of the conversation with Hollywood to find Luisa and I froze. No. “No fucking way!” I texted all of that, the whole damn paragraph about my deepest, darkest sensual needs not to my best friend but to the subject of said needs.

Fuck. My. Life.

ME:Um, no? Ignore that message. In fact you can totally delete it because I meant to send it to my friend, not you. Sorry to bother you.

He didn’t respond right away, and I was grateful as hell about it, so I shut my phone off and changed out of my—wasted—date clothes into something more comfortable. In the kitchen I found an amber ale in the fridge and I popped it open, sucking down several big gulps into the humiliation that overheated my skin started to fade.

Slowly my mind allowed me to forget the mistaken confession until my shoulders relaxed and I stepped out onto the back deck with a hint of a smile. Dad spent countless hours in the yard turning it into a gorgeous blend of grass, plants, and vegetables. He’d nerded out and planted what he called cooperative crops that kept away enemies of its friends. It was beautiful but at night like this, it was also slightly ominous.

The back door opened, and my father spoke before I could turn. “There you are. I was calling for you.”

“I’m right here,” I said and turned to face him. “You sound strange, are you okay?”

He tried for a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I am strange, at least according to you.”

A perfect non-answer. “Youarestrange but yousoundweird now too.” I knew he’d play this word game all night just to get out of telling me what was wrong with him. “Okay, you sound as if something is bothering you, Dad. What is it?”

He stared at me for a long time, studying me as if it was his first time seeing me. Then he blinked, shook it off and put on a fake ass smile. “I’m fine. Nothing is wrong.”

I don’t believe him mostly because my father is a horrible liar. “You’d tell me if something was wrong?” I knew the answer before I asked so it didn’t surprise me.

“Of course, honey.”

Another lie. “I’m not a kid anymore Dad. I can handle it, whatever it is.” The dirty little secret in our family was that I was the strong one. I was only ten when my mom died and he fell completely apart, which forced me to handle things I shouldn’t have had to such as bills, groceries, and anythingrelated to school. The upside was that I became very proficient in computers at a young age. The downside was that my own father left me hanging and unable to properly mourn the death of my mother. “I’ve handled worse than whatever this is,” I reminded him in a pointed tone.

He sighed heavily, getting my unspoken message loud and clear. “I know, Winter. Everything is good. I promise.”

He was still lying to me, and I absolutely hated it. I didn’t call him out on it, but I hoped he wouldn’t wait until it was too late to tell me what the problem was. “Okay, Dad. I trust you.” I wrapped him in a hug and squeezed him tight, the way I used to when I was a little girl. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He squeezed me back and held on a little lighter.

Becausesomethingwas absolutely wrong.

Chapter Five

Hollywood

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