Page 3 of The Fangirl and the Playboy

To remember.

I was an eighteen-year-old nobody when I landed the role of Lucas Lumin. Filming was exciting and exhausting, and while I’d hoped the movies wouldn’t tank in theaters, I never expected them to be as popular as they were.

And Ireallynever imagined the fanbase from ten years ago would still be so…obsessed.

Not that I’m complaining. I love my fans. I love how enthusiastic and devoted they’ve remained all these years. But sometimes you just need a breather, if you know what I mean. And while people might think Evening Shade is thelastplace I should be looking for a break from the mania, I disagree.

Ever since I stepped foot back in this town, it’s felt like home in a way my condo in L.A. has never felt.

The locals are just as kind and unpretentious as they were when we were here filming. Welcoming and generous. Friendly and helpful.

It was the same back then, when a group of teenagers welcomed Julia and me into their ranks, allowing us to experience a little bit of normal during downtimes in the crazy filming schedule. Especially one local, in particular.

Willow Bardin.

I still remember the first time I saw her, so pretty and fresh-faced with a slight blush on her cheeks and a star-struck look in her eyes. Then Julia told me the girl had invited us to hang with her friends at a bonfire by the lake that night, and my first instinct was to decline. She lookedyoung. Too young for someone my age to be hanging around, which meant her friends probably were, too.

But the dread of another lonely night in my tiny room at the motel won out in the end, and I agreed to go.

And that decision changed my life, forever.

* * *

Twelve Years Ago…

Julia’s arm is cinched tightly through mine, the crook of her elbow squeezing my bicep into submission as we approach the raging fire and the throng of teenagers surrounding it. She’s nervous, and if I’m being honest, I am, too. Alittle, anyway.

We don’t really know what to expect, but both of us are hoping these locals will treat us like normal human beings and not make every conversation about the movie we’re filming and what it’s like to be actors in Hollywood. That’s why we’re here. To escape that reality for a while and just be…normal.

It’s still early fall, but the bite of winter in the air makes me glad I wore a jacket and not just the flannel shirt I have on underneath it. Julia abruptly steers us to the left, picking up the pace until yanking me to a halt in front of the brunette I saw her speaking with on set this afternoon.

“Hey,” she says as she finally releases the chokehold on my arm and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Willow, this is Gavin. Gavin, Willow.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, and I see her swallow thickly before her head bobs.

“You, too,” she answers, only the slightest of cracks in her voice.

I was right. Sheisyoung. As I take a moment to look around, I realize they all are. I need to be careful, here. I can’t have my acting debut marred by some scandal that involves shenanigans with underage kids. I’m barely eighteen, but in the eyes of the law, I’m an adult.

And I have too much to lose.

Willow leads us around, introducing us to some of her friends, and I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised by how chill they all are. Welcoming nods and offers of refreshments are shot our way, and I’m a bit relieved to see the large cooler packed with sodas and water bottles, not beers and booze. I’d definitely have to get the hell out of here if these kids were drinking.

Julia sticks by my side for the first hour, but as her conversation with a pretty blonde goes on, they slowly move away from the fire and closer to the lake’s edge. I’m sipping on some water when Willow materializes beside me.

“Hey,” she says, and I can’t tell if the pink on her cheeks is a reflection from the fire or one of those pretty blushes I saw earlier.

“Hey,” I parrot back. “Thanks for inviting us. This is…cool.”

“I warned everyone not to mention the movie before you and Julia got here. I thought you guys might be looking for a break from work,” she says, and this time I know for sure it’s a blush on her cheeks.

“That was very nice of you,” I say, following her as she waves me toward a couple of empty chairs off to the side.

We stare at the blaze for a while after we sit, and as the silence stretches between us, I look for some words to fill it before it gets uncomfortable.

“So, have you lived here your whole life?” I ask.

She nods. “My family has been here for generations.”

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