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I remember the cheap lipstick I put on this morning, and say a quick prayer of thanks for its staying power.
“Can we get her some water or something?” Jett asks, sounding worried. Almost instantly, a bottle appears and is placed to my lips. I take a tiny sip, pretending it’s all I can manage. I swear I can almosthearViolet rolling her eyes.
“You’re not seriously falling for this act, are you?” she asks Jett, who’s still holding me as if I’m something precious. “She’s fine. Emma just said she was fine. She’sfine, Emma, isn’t she?”
“Um, it’s Emily,” says the woman who’d come to my aid earlier, looking embarrassed to be being addressed directly by Violet King. “And yeah, Ithinkso… but I’m not a doctor, so…”
“Why isn’t there a doctor on this fucking set?” says Jett. “This is ridiculous.”
I wriggle a little further into his arms, thoroughly enjoying this. Then I remember The Kiss, and my entire body tenses in horror at the memory.
“Lexie,” says Jett urgently. “It’s okay, Lexie. I’m going to get you to a doctor. Just hold on.”
Before I can answer him, he stands up, still holding me in his arms like a doll. It’s quite impressive, actually. He must have been working out alotlately.
“Oh, comeon, Jett,” says Violet, her voice starting to sound like a shriek. “This is Lexie we’re talking about. She’ll doanythingto get your attention. Remember how she threw those fries at me? She’s an actress, Jett. A completeactress.”
“I’m not,” I protest weakly, my eyelashes fluttering. “I’m just a poor barmaid.”
For a second, I think I’ve gone too far, but then I’m turning around in midair, as Jett carries me off through the trees, in the direction of the car park. I can’t resist peeking over his shoulder at Violet as we go. This time, she actuallydoesshriek in frustration, before turning on her heel and storming off. I watch her go, my heart swelling with triumph… then I think about the kiss yet again, and it abruptly deflates, as if it’s been pierced.
I might be the one currently in Jett’s arms, but that’s only because I’m the one who can’t currently walk on her own. She’s still the one who gets to kiss him; on film, and in real life, too, I suspect. So I’m still very much the loser in this situation; and in every other situation I’ve found myself in too, lately.
Jett still hasn’t said a word to me by the time we reach the beach and start crunching our way across the pebbles. I suddenly realize he’s wearing a medieval costume, complete with a fur cape and long sword clanking by his side. I stifle the urge to laugh by pressing my face against his chest. It’s notun-fun.
“Um, you can put me down now, if you like,” I tell him timidly. “I must be pretty heavy.”
“You’re as light as a feather, Lexie,” he replies, without smiling. “And I don’t want you fainting on me. I still remember the last time that happened.”
I smile into his shoulder, remembering how I’d worn too-tight shapewear to a Hollywood Gala dinner, then downed a couple of glasses of champagne in quick succession, leaving myself no room to breathe. I’d fainted in front of a crowd of photographers. It wasnotfun, as Grace might say. This, however, actuallyiskind of fun; mostly because I’m not actually in any danger of fainting, which means I’m more than able to enjoy every second of being close to Jett’s body, with my arms looped daringly around his neck. Just to stop myself from falling, you understand. So, purely practical reasons.
We reach the car park disappointingly quickly, and Jett hesitates for a second.
“I’m going to try to put you down now, okay?” he says. “So I can call my driver to take us to the hospital. Do you think you can stand up if you hold on to me?”
I think I probablycan, actually, but I have no intention of letting him go, so I nod bravely, clinging on to him as he carefully lowers me to the ground.
“Oww!” I yell, as I try to put my weight on my ankle. “Shit! Thatreallyhurts!”
My scream is as much of a surprise to me as it is to Jett. I was so busypretendingto be injured that I’d forgotten I actuallydidtwist my ankle when I fell. Now, though, there’s no acting necessary, as pain shoots up my leg, making me grab Jett’s arm in fright.
“Hey,” he says soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay, Lex. Where the fuck is everybody, though? Where’s my driver?”
He looks around the car park, but there’s no one here: even the security guard has disappeared.
“Jett,” I say, realizing we probably don’t have long before the rest of the cast and crew come streaming out of the woods to join us. “I don’t think I need to see a doctor.”
He looks down at me, his face full of concern.
“I really just want to go home,” I tell him. “That woman — Emily — she said I should put an ice pack on it and it would be fine. I think that’s what I’m going to do.”
“No,” says Jett firmly. “I want you to see a doctor. I need to know you’re okay. Shit.” He pats the pockets of his costume. “I don’t have my phone on me. Here, give me yours.”
I reach into my pocket and take out the phone. I’m about to unlock it when I notice a message alert on the screen.
Oh yeah; I put it on silent, so I wouldn’t have heard this come in.
“Just a second,” I tell Jett, taping on the message, which has Mum’s name next to it.
