Page 21 of Faking It

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, Ana. I’ve had enough of your insubordination. When you’re not taking personal calls on my time, you’re walking off the job without notifying me first.”

“Sophia approved my request—”

“Sophia’s not your boss. I am,” he snaps.

This might be the wrong time to point out that the company handbook states my supervisor has the authority to give me time off, but I don’t want to piss him off any more than he is. “Noted Frank,” I reply, too weary to argue, anyway. “I’ll call you next time.”

“There won’t be a next time. You’re fired, Ana. I don’t want to see you on the premises unless you’re picking up your severance check.”

“Frank—”

He’s already hung up. The soft click in my ear confirms it. I drop against the pillow. Harsh reality slaps me right across my face.

Rock bottom.

After an entire year in the wilderness, waiting tables, mixing drinks, even cleaning the floors to make ends meet, I’ve finally hit the lowest point of my life. The darkest. I release the phone from my hand, curl into my pillow and let the tears flow with restraint.

To hell with Frank.

Screw that asshole Carter.

Fuck the part of my brain that’s screaming how much of a failure I am. It might be true but not for long. I refuse to let this be my narrative.

But for now, I’m going to cry.

The gentle sound of my sobbing soon puts me to sleep, and a loud shrilling wakes me up some time later. Glancing out my bedroom window, I see the pitch-black sky. A glance at my phone confirms it’s a little past seven. Tori’s smiling face brings the belly-sinking reminder of the big break that just slipped through my fingers.

“Are you sitting down?” she greets me as I answer the phone.

“Just give it to me straight, Tori,” I reply, already on the verge of tears.

She sighs. “I just got a call from the studio. They mentioned how brilliant you were, just not the right fit for their lead role.” Another sigh. “Do you mind telling me what happened?”

“Besides that asshole Carter fucking it up for me?” I ask bitterly.

“Tell me everything,” Tori requests, and for the next few minutes, she listens silently as I give her an account of the afternoon I’ve had.

“I don’t understand,” she says when I’m done. “Why did you pretend not to know him?”

“It’s… not something I want to discuss, honestly.”

“You’re going to make me die from curiosity. You know that, right?”

Pushing the covers off me, I scrub my face. For once, I wish I could offload this burden from my shoulders. Yet, commonsense warns me to keep my mouth shut. “Telling you will do more harm than good, I swear.”

“Harm to who? You or me?” she exclaims.

“Both of us.”

There’s a short pause on her end, and I justknowshe’s debating whether to keep pushing. “I’m going to let it go for now, but I won’t stop until you open up to me.”

“We’ll see,” I reply, non-committal.

Tori sighs. “I’m really sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Don’t be. You tried your best. To be honest, I can’t blame Carter entirely. I fumbled the ball. I have to live with the fuck-up I made.”

“No. I’m not going to let you wallow in misery,” she insists. “Where’s Logan? He should be there cheering you up.”

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