Getting over your first crush seems impossible - especially when he's the star of the world's biggest movie franchise.
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Jess Wheeler is happily single and perfectly content with her simple life in Hemlock Landing, South Carolina, where all she kn...
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"I don't think I'll ever be able to smile again." Bay massages his face with his knuckles as soon as the final fan leaves the photo booth. "It physically hurts."
"Promotion makes the studio happy, so it was worth it," Nigel says, distracted by his phone. Nigel sure does talk about The Studio a lot.
"Look at it this way," I say, stretching out my arm muscles again. "Now you have an excuse to frown for the rest of the week. I would kill for that."
"Don't tempt me," Bay says, shaking his head. After three hours of posing with complete strangers, I'm surprised he has enough energy to stay standing. "By the way, was that my mother I saw walking out of here earlier?"
My stomach twists so hard that I almost throw up, and the lie flows easily off of my tongue. "Um, yeah. She was looking for you or something, and I told her you weren't here."
"Ah, thank you," he says, and thankfully that's the end of it. I don't dare say anything more to Bay about the conversation I had with his mother; I understand the rules of blackmail all too well.
"Okay, so here's the schedule for the rest of the day," Nigel interrupts, business as usual. "It's getting late in the day, so you should probably return to your room and change into fresh clothes. After this, you will need to stop by town hall at 7:30 to take photos with the mayor for next week's paper. And then, you will leave with his daughter for the dinner that she won from the costume contest. Emilio's Italian Restaurant has agreed to host the meal."
Bay remains silent for a while, his mouth pressed into a thin line. It heartens me to realize that he's as unhappy as I am about the arranged dinner with Reya. He rubs a hand over his face and says, "I'm exhausted. Can't we just move it to tomorrow?"
Nigel sighs and puts an aggrieved hand on his hip. "Bay, I'm not here to ask your permission. You know that tomorrow is the Homecoming Dance, which you need time to prepare for. These are the commitments you made."
"You mean the commitments you made for me?" Bay's voice is level, but there's real anger in his eyes. I take a step back, afraid of getting entangled in whatever conflict is brewing between the two of them.
"This was the deal," Nigel says, firmly but not unkindly. "The studio asked that we spend a certain amount of time–"
"Fine, I get it. I get it." A muscle in Bay's jaw ticks, and he stares resolutely at the floor."Whatever the studio wants, the studio gets."
"Thank you." Nigel puts a hand on Bay's shoulder. "I know all of this can be overwhelming, which is why I hope you feel comfortable depending on me. Now, I'm going to hop to the loo and we can leave."
As soon as Nigel steps out of the photo booth, I have a sympathetic cliche primed to be dispensed. But then Bay turns around, and I see the look in his eyes. Whatever I was going to say shrivels up and dies on my tongue.
