Page 7 of Missing Linc
It’s okay. I’ll be strong. I can do this. Camden Hawkins can do this shit. Hecannot walk up to this guy he’s been fawning over the past five months. Hecannot talk to him and flirt with him, considering he’s going to be his director starting tomorrow. Hecannot talk to this tall glass of water he’s been wanting to take to bed since that day in the wrong class.
There. That’s better. How’s that for some kickass resilience and fortitude?
I may not be studying acting, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t seen this guy around at school. He and his friend Rivera are quite the item. The hotties of the Arts Department, that’s for sure. Two of them, anyway.
I send a message to my traitor of a sister and sip on my cocktail and…
Holy-mother-fucking-god. That’s so freaking good.
But…
Shit! Uh-oh. There we go.
My body turns toward him and my mouth opens before I have the mind to stop them.
“Stood up?” I ask him.
Damn you, liquid courage. We’re no longer friends. I’ll rip my ID in half in protest.
His thumb freezes mid-scroll, and he turns his eyes before he turns his head as if he isn’t sure I’m talking to him and wants to be certain.
“Huh? Oh, no. I’m with Lenka. The producer?” He points somewhere behind us and that’s when I notice the familiar director with a pretty little girl in her lap making out like teenagers.
“So… technically, you’ve been ditched,” I say.
Shut up, Cam.
“You can say that again,” he sighs, and I can tell there’s a story there.
What is it?
Shut. Up. Cam.
“Ha-haveyoubeen stood up?” he asks.
I nod with the straw still in my mouth. Yes, I’m sipping my cocktail to keep my mouth busy.
“Yes. By my sister,” I finally say when I’m done looking like a dumb dick.
“The nerve!” he chuckles.
Oh my Lord, chuckle again, sweetie. That sound is meant to be heard.
“I know. I’ve written her off. She’s sleeping on the streets tonight,” I say.
I open my mouth to add something else, but I have the decency to snatch my straw again and just keep busy sipping.
“W-would you care to join me? It doesn’t look like my friend is gonna be done any time soon?” he says and points at the chair opposite him at his table.
Crap. I do. Isodo. But…
He’s my director, and I certainly shouldn’t be cozying up to him. I don’t want to bethatactor.
And yet my legs take me there, plonk me on the chair with my drink in hand, and I brace to make a fool out of myself.
Young eyes my drink and then glances back up at me.
“Aren’t you a bit young for this?” he asks.
