Page 96 of How to Kiss a Movie Star
Audrey
Thereisonlyonemore stop before we’re heading back to North Carolina, and that’s the panel discussion at UCLA’s film school.
Flint and I haven’t talked much this morning. We only got a few hours of sleep before we had to be up, so it’s possible we’re both just tired. But the air seems different between us somehow. Like we’re both waiting to see how the other is going to act.
A part of me wants to just throw my arms around him, apologize for the argument, and promise everything is going to be fine.
But I still feel sick whenever I think about the photographer in my face, violating my privacy, touching my skin, pulling me toward him.
I have no idea how I’m supposed to survive in Flint’s world.
Trouble is, I also have no idea how I’m supposed to survive without him.
Applause and laughter echo through the auditorium, and I look up from where I’m sitting just off-stage with Nate and Joni, catching Flint’s profile as he smiles. The question was a softball, something silly about staying in shape for all his shirtless scenes.
Flint lobs it right back, joking about good genetics and a team of twenty-five people all dedicated to the contours of his abdominal muscles.
Somehow, he manages to be perfectly self-deprecating while also pointing out the ridiculousness of regular people comparing themselves to celebrities who literally donothingon their own.
It’s the perfect answer, and clearly, the audience agrees because they’re still laughing and cheering in response.
I don’t envy the moderator’s job, who has to somehow make the entireTurning Tidescast feel like they matter when clearly, the audience is mostly interested in hearing from Flint.
I drain the last of my coffee and set the cup at my feet, anxious to be done, to finally be heading home. Flint and I still have a lot to talk about, but I just keep clinging to the hope that it will be easier in Silver Creek.
Everything makes more sense there.
Wemake more sense there.
But a tiny voice in the back of my mind reminds me that Flint makes sensehere,too. This is his world. And that isn’t ever going to change.
The moderator sends a question over to the casting director, so I pull out my phone, using the moment to check my email. If Flint isn’t the one talking, I feel much less compelled to listen.
Besides, I haven’t even bothered to open my work email since Thursday afternoon. Since I’ll be back in the lab tomorrow morning, it’s probably smart to check in and see if I missed anything important over the weekend.
The email at the top of my inbox makes the air freeze in my lungs. The subject line alone is enough for me to know it isn’t good news, and opening the message only confirms my fears.
I didn’t get my grant.
Come January of next year, my funding will be gone.
I close out my email and drop my phone in my lap, not wanting to cry right here in the middle of everything that’s going on. Even though I had a vague sense this was coming, it still feels like a shock. It’sreal.And it absolutely sucks.
Beside me, Joni swears and reaches for her phone as a ripple of sound moves across the auditorium. I was so distracted by my sudden job crisis, I missed whatever the question was that caused such a stir. If it was even a question at all.
“What is it? What happened?” I whisper, looking at Joni. I stand and move to the other side of Nate so I have a better view of Flint.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat your question?” Flint says, leaning toward his microphone.
I lean forward with him, straining my ears so I can hear the repeated question.
“Are you willing to comment on the story that just broke on TMZ, claiming that you faked a relationship with Audrey Callahan in order to create distance between you and your co-star?”
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.
What in the world?
I hold my breath while Flint clears his throat. I can’t even imagine how he’s feeling, what’s running through his mind right now.
