Page 57 of How to Kiss a Movie Star
Audrey:Should we talk about parameters for how this whole situation is going to work?
Flint:Parameters?
Audrey:For when we go to California.
Flint:Right, so like, how long we’ll be gone. What events I expect you to attend?
I take a deep breath. That information will be valuable, but that’s not truly at the heart of what I’m asking. I muster my courage and try again.
Audrey:Sure. But also, what will you expect from ME? Hand holding? Public hugging?
Flint:I like public hugging.
He adds a winking emoji at the end of his message.
Audrey:Are you making fun of me? I feel like you’re making fun of me.
Flint:I’m not! It’s a valid question. Can we talk about it in person? Joni has a mile-long list of things to discuss with you. It might be overwhelming if we try to cover it all via text.
Before I can respond, a second text pops up.
Flint:Are you free on Saturday?
I drop my phone onto my chest, my hands trembling. But this is no big deal. I’m not overthinking. Spending Saturday with Flint will be No. Big. Deal.
Audrey:I’m free.
Flint:Perfect. I’ll pick you up at 9.
I glance at my watch. Oh great. That’s only…thirty-eight hours tonotfreak myself out.
An hour later, Summer bursts into my room holding her phone.
“He posted them! The photos are live!” She looks down at her phone. “Oh my gosh, Audrey. You look so gorgeous.”
“I do not,” I say even as I put down my book and scoot closer to the edge of my bed. “You can’t even see my face.”
“But look at your hair!” Summer says. “And your back looks amazing.”
I push up on my knees and look over her shoulder. “My back looks like a back. There’s nothing amazing about a back.”
“Sure there is. No weird rashes or bulges. You look good.”
“Let me see,” Lucy says, pushing into the room. “My phone just died so I can’t pull it up.” She pulls Summer’s phone out of her hands. “Ohhh, you do look good. And look! Already ten thousand likes.”
Ten thousand likes. He posted the picture minutes ago, and it already has ten thousand likes.
“What do the comments say?” Lucy says.
“No! Don’t read the comments. Flint says I shouldn’t.”
“I’ll only read the good ones out loud,” Summer says as she starts to scroll. I scoot back on my bed and lean against the headboard, pulling my pillow tightly to my chest. I watch as Summer’s eyes dart back and forth over the screen. I shouldn’t be curious. I know better than to be curious. But I can’t help it.
“Ohhh, listen to this one.” She clears her throat. “‘WHAT? Flint Hawthorne is off the market? Crying for the rest of my life.’”
“How about this one?” Lucy says. “‘Did Claire McKinsey dye her hair brown? Could they actually be back together? #clairandflint’”
“Umm, we hatethathashtag,” Summer says.
