Unwritten
Page 5
Maybe it’s crazy, but it’s not just about Blake either. After I left Paris, I’d been wondering what to do next, and the chance to get behind the scenes on a real-life film set was too good to resist. I love movies. Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve loved curling up on the couch, escaping into another world. Romance, comedy, old black-and-white movies—it doesn’t matter to me, I adore them all. My parents are diplomats, and we moved around so much growing up that it was hard to feel settled. Movies became my one constant: familiar friends to spend the afternoon with, even if I was watching them from an embassy compound in Turkey, or a temporary rental house in London. I could be in a new city every other month, but the minute the title credits rolled and the movie began, I was home.
Now, I can’t wait to see how the magic is created. It’s only a small production, but I’m ready to learn everything I can. We’ve got an up-and-coming director and a cast full of hot young talent. Led, of course, by the hottest rising star of all. Blake.
I stop running, breathing hard, and look around. Somehow, I’ve wound up all the way down the shore, where newer glass and stucco houses are hidden behind the dunes. I can see the familiar back of the house belonging to Tegan and Blake’s brother, Dex; sunset light reflecting off the wall of gleaming windows. I smile. If I look carefully, I can see the place on the deck where the most amazing kiss of my life happened, just a few months ago…
“Zoey?”
I spin around with a yelp—and find myself looking straight at Blake. A sweaty, tanned Blake, panting from his run.
I stare in a daze. Was the universe reading my mind just now?
“Hey,” Blake recovers. “I thought that was you. I didn’t know you were in town.”
I struggle to find words—and drag my eyes away from his damp T-shirt. Even through the fabric, I can make out the definition of his abs. Tegan was right, he is cut.
“Uh, hey.” I finally manage to re-engage my brain. “Yes! I’m here. In town. For the movie!”
“You are?” he looks confused.
“I got a job. Production assistant,” I babble. “Running around all day doing errands, but it should be fun. We’re getting set for shooting, first day is Friday. But then, you already know that.” I trail off, realizing for the first time what a mess I look. My hair is pulled back in a sweaty ponytail, and I’m wearing no makeup, my oldest sweatpants, and a bleach-stained tank top.
No! I stifle a groan. I’ve had my first-day outfit picked for weeks; I knew exactly how I was going to style my hair. But now my dreams of waltzing on set looking effortlessly elegant and turning Blake’s head are all for nothing.
There’s a pause, and I can almost see Blake’s brain turning over as he remembers the last time we saw each other—and how I haven’t heard a word from him since.
He looks awkward. “So, about New Year’s—”
“Wasn’t it a great party?” I cut him off loudly. The last thing I want is some kind of mumbled apology, or worse, an explanation that our kiss didn’t mean a thing to him. So, I give him a bright smile instead. “Those cocktails were crazy, I can’t remember half the stuff I did.”
“You don’t?” Blake stops.
“It’s all a blur.” I wave my hand vaguely. “But I’m sure it was all good. What about you?” I ask innocently. “Did you have fun?”
Blake’s blue eyes search my face, as if he’s looking for a clue. But I just keep smiling, and so he exhales. “Yeah. Sure. It was great.”
“Anyway, I better get going,” I say, backing away. The sooner I can get away from him, the better. Maybe he hasn’t even noticed the huge pimple on my cheek yet. “See you around!”
I turn and run back down the beach, glad I have an excuse to race away from him as fast as my legs will carry me.
So much for a great second impression! I can’t believe that after all my big plans, I run into him looking like this—and acting like an idiot too.
“It’s all just a blur?” Way to seem like a mature, sophisticated adult, Zoey, I scold myself. Now he’ll think you’re some drunk party-girl who goes around kissing anything that moves!
I shake my head, trying to dislodge my embarrassment, but I can’t help feeling like I’m fourteen all over again. Gawky and miserable and lonely, wishing to God I could make people see on the outside the way I felt, deep down. It was one of the worst years of my life—at least, it was before September second: the day burned on my memory, the moment my life finally started to turn around.
The day that I met Blake.
2.
6 years ago…
It’s the first day back at school after summer, and I’m hiding.
I sit on the steps at the back of the East Wing. Out on the front quad, everyone’s unloading their baggage, saying goodbye to their parents and happily greeting their friends after the vacation away.
My bags were shipped ahead; my parents have already left for their latest diplomatic job abroad, and I definitely don’t have any friends.
I turn up the volume on my iPod and try to focus on the pages of my copy of Pride & Prejudice and not the hollow ache in my chest. School hasn’t even started, and already, I want to go home.
I begged my parents not to make me come back here, but they didn’t listen. Or maybe, they just didn’t want to. After all, they were the ones who were so hot on the idea of boarding school in the first place. Last year, after spending my whole life trailing them around the world, they finally decided I needed stability and routine. Not with them, of course, but one of the most exclusive schools on the East Coast. They left me here for eighth grade, promising I would have the time of my life, make tons of new friends, and stop hiding away with my books and movies for a change.
Now, I can’t wait to see how the magic is created. It’s only a small production, but I’m ready to learn everything I can. We’ve got an up-and-coming director and a cast full of hot young talent. Led, of course, by the hottest rising star of all. Blake.
I stop running, breathing hard, and look around. Somehow, I’ve wound up all the way down the shore, where newer glass and stucco houses are hidden behind the dunes. I can see the familiar back of the house belonging to Tegan and Blake’s brother, Dex; sunset light reflecting off the wall of gleaming windows. I smile. If I look carefully, I can see the place on the deck where the most amazing kiss of my life happened, just a few months ago…
“Zoey?”
I spin around with a yelp—and find myself looking straight at Blake. A sweaty, tanned Blake, panting from his run.
I stare in a daze. Was the universe reading my mind just now?
“Hey,” Blake recovers. “I thought that was you. I didn’t know you were in town.”
I struggle to find words—and drag my eyes away from his damp T-shirt. Even through the fabric, I can make out the definition of his abs. Tegan was right, he is cut.
“Uh, hey.” I finally manage to re-engage my brain. “Yes! I’m here. In town. For the movie!”
“You are?” he looks confused.
“I got a job. Production assistant,” I babble. “Running around all day doing errands, but it should be fun. We’re getting set for shooting, first day is Friday. But then, you already know that.” I trail off, realizing for the first time what a mess I look. My hair is pulled back in a sweaty ponytail, and I’m wearing no makeup, my oldest sweatpants, and a bleach-stained tank top.
No! I stifle a groan. I’ve had my first-day outfit picked for weeks; I knew exactly how I was going to style my hair. But now my dreams of waltzing on set looking effortlessly elegant and turning Blake’s head are all for nothing.
There’s a pause, and I can almost see Blake’s brain turning over as he remembers the last time we saw each other—and how I haven’t heard a word from him since.
He looks awkward. “So, about New Year’s—”
“Wasn’t it a great party?” I cut him off loudly. The last thing I want is some kind of mumbled apology, or worse, an explanation that our kiss didn’t mean a thing to him. So, I give him a bright smile instead. “Those cocktails were crazy, I can’t remember half the stuff I did.”
“You don’t?” Blake stops.
“It’s all a blur.” I wave my hand vaguely. “But I’m sure it was all good. What about you?” I ask innocently. “Did you have fun?”
Blake’s blue eyes search my face, as if he’s looking for a clue. But I just keep smiling, and so he exhales. “Yeah. Sure. It was great.”
“Anyway, I better get going,” I say, backing away. The sooner I can get away from him, the better. Maybe he hasn’t even noticed the huge pimple on my cheek yet. “See you around!”
I turn and run back down the beach, glad I have an excuse to race away from him as fast as my legs will carry me.
So much for a great second impression! I can’t believe that after all my big plans, I run into him looking like this—and acting like an idiot too.
“It’s all just a blur?” Way to seem like a mature, sophisticated adult, Zoey, I scold myself. Now he’ll think you’re some drunk party-girl who goes around kissing anything that moves!
I shake my head, trying to dislodge my embarrassment, but I can’t help feeling like I’m fourteen all over again. Gawky and miserable and lonely, wishing to God I could make people see on the outside the way I felt, deep down. It was one of the worst years of my life—at least, it was before September second: the day burned on my memory, the moment my life finally started to turn around.
The day that I met Blake.
2.
6 years ago…
It’s the first day back at school after summer, and I’m hiding.
I sit on the steps at the back of the East Wing. Out on the front quad, everyone’s unloading their baggage, saying goodbye to their parents and happily greeting their friends after the vacation away.
My bags were shipped ahead; my parents have already left for their latest diplomatic job abroad, and I definitely don’t have any friends.
I turn up the volume on my iPod and try to focus on the pages of my copy of Pride & Prejudice and not the hollow ache in my chest. School hasn’t even started, and already, I want to go home.
I begged my parents not to make me come back here, but they didn’t listen. Or maybe, they just didn’t want to. After all, they were the ones who were so hot on the idea of boarding school in the first place. Last year, after spending my whole life trailing them around the world, they finally decided I needed stability and routine. Not with them, of course, but one of the most exclusive schools on the East Coast. They left me here for eighth grade, promising I would have the time of my life, make tons of new friends, and stop hiding away with my books and movies for a change.
