“Glenn?” She raised an eyebrow and poured herself some juice. “A little birdie told me your chemistry test withSebastianwent phenomenally.”
“A little birdie?”
Her shoulders fell. “Dante called me last night and told me they’re going with you as the lead.” She perked up an instant later. “But I’m so happy for you. He said that your scenes were crazy hot. I can’t wait to see it. And I can’t wait for our epic fight scene at the end.”
“Same. I might even let you get in a real hit or two.”
We hugged.
“Oh, and Sebastian texted me this morning to tell me too. I think he felt bad that he couldn’t…performwith me, you know. Ugh, I hate you. You’ve got both of the hottest men on set vying for you!” she gushed.
I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Oh, really? That same little birdie told me Sebastian was hard as a rock the entire day of your chemistry test. He was a limp marshmallow with me.” She gave a pout. “Not that I’m entirely interested, but it would have been a nice compliment. Oh well.” She winked just as Glenn pulled into the parking lot, sliding into the spot right beside us. He got out and flashed a mega-watt smile, causing Skye to giggle. I got into the van and Glenn joined me in the passenger’s seat. I rolled the window down as I backed out of the spot and waved to Skye.
“See you on set,” I said before taking off to move back into my childhood home.
“IT LOOKS JUSTlike I remember,” I sighed as I stepped inside a few hours later.
“It’s…a lot of pink,” he said.
I nodded. “It was her favorite color. She used to joke that her heart was stuck in the seventies.” I took my shoes off and curled my toes into the shag carpet. It indeed was a lot of pink. The walls had a rosy-pink shade of wallpaper, and she’d gotten the carpet to match. On the walls, scattered in between photos of the two of us, were kitschy items, like vintage clocks, art prints, and plastic peacocks. The furniture was old too—velvet couches and TVs that still had antennas. Old, but not worn down. It was all in pristine condition. Everywhere that guests were welcome, she’d maintained the aesthetic. She’d allowed me to decorate my bedroom, and our home theater had been semi-modernized.
“Are you going to update it?”
“Nope. Well, just a few things. I had them add security cameras, and the TV in my room is new.” Shrugging, I directed him to take my box of clothes upstairs.
The home was modest in comparison to many celebrity homes. There were no giant wings or elevators. She and I had rooms on the same floor—down the same hall, even. But now, I couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her room empty, so I was taking it as mine and making my childhood bedroom a guest room.
Moving in went fast, so I opted to unpack as well. Glenn stayed with me, as I had to take him back to his car, and helped where he could. We began in my bedroom, starting with my books. We plopped down on the carpet and opened the boxes to fill the lower shelves first.
“I didn’t know your mom, but my dad always spoke highly of her. I think he may have had a thing for her, if I’m being honest,” he admitted.
I froze, turning to look at him. Did he know something? Or was this his way of checking to see if I knew anything? This was such a bad idea. I decided right then that I’d take tonight, grill him on details about his dad and my mom, and then politely break it off tomorrow.
As the plan was forming, a text came through from Sebastian.
Psycho Killer: Dinner plans, Final Girl?
He’d mentioned that I was saved as Final Girl in his phone, so I’d changed his name in mine.
Me: Can’t. Move-in day. Sorry.
I stuffed my phone into my pocket and returned to unpacking books with Glenn.
“You really like horror,” he said, glancing at the titles as he shelved them. He held upChristine, by Stephen King.
“It’s in my blood.”
“Was your dad an actor too?” he asked.
“I don’t know. She never told me who he was.” I shrugged. I’d never thought to look into it either. A memory of her popped into my mind, and I smiled, hearing her voice.
“What is he like?”
“Who?”
“My dad. Do I look like him? Or act like him?”
