Flirting With Fame (Flirting With Fame) (20 page)

I took a step back and held my palms out. “Reggie, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Gavin earlier. We just wanted to see where it went. I didn’t think you’d be so upset . . .”

“This has nothing to do with him. I don’t care what you do with him. But how could you lie to me about this?”

That was when I saw it. My laptop beside her. Open. The manuscript for the last
Viking Moon
book sprawled across the screen.

“Reggie, what are you doing with my computer?”

“Mine conked out,” she said. “I needed to finish a paper for today, so I borrowed yours. You know, you really shouldn’t use ‘Gavin’ as your password.”

I glanced at Gavin and my cheeks warmed before I turned back to my roommate. “Reggie. I can explain.”

“What? Are you gonna try to tell me it’s just fan fiction or something?”

“Well—”

“No.” She slammed the laptop shut and stood. “Because I found them all, Elise. Or is it Aubrey? Every draft of every book, all neatly organized into folders. I mean, Jeez, Elise, you told me you hadn’t even read them and you fucking
wrote
them. What’s wrong with you?”

“Calm down, Reggie. Please, let me explain.”

She didn’t even seem to notice I’d spoken. Her face was so close to mine, I could smell the coffee she’d had earlier on her breath. Reggie picked up one of my books from her side of our desk and flipped it to the back. She jabbed a finger at Veronica’s picture.

“And who the hell is this? She’s in on it, too, huh? Coming in here and claiming she wrote the books. God, you even had him fooled.”

She motioned to Gavin, and my heart dropped to my heels. I’d forgotten he was there and had heard everything. I couldn’t bring myself to look in his direction.

I stepped toward my roommate. “If you’d let me explain—”

“Why? So you can lie to me again? Tell more of your stories? No, thank you.”

Reggie grabbed a gym bag from beneath her bed and began throwing clothes into it.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

She threw two non-matching socks into the bag and glared at me. “I’m staying with Clint for tonight. When we get back from Thanksgiving, I’ll get the rest of my stuff and move out.”

My throat tightened and I reached for her arm. “Reggie, please don’t go. You don’t understand. I didn’t think any of it would matter. When I wrote the first book, I was so embarrassed by who I was, I sent them someone else’s picture to use. Someone random—I didn’t even know Veronica until a few months ago! Then they started filming this show and I . . . I just panicked. I thought I had to keep up the charade or I’d lose everything.”

Reggie zipped the bag shut and rounded on me. “You could’ve trusted me. I would’ve kept your secret. I am—was—your biggest fan. Now, I can’t even look at you or your stupid books.”

She grabbed the second
Viking Moon
book from beside her bed and tossed it into the metal waste bin beneath the desk.

Hot tears slipped down my cheeks, but I made no move to brush them away.

“Please don’t,” I whispered.

She pushed past Gavin and stopped at the door. “You know what, Elise? I always thought you were better than you gave yourself credit for. I told you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. But now I feel sorry for you. The fact you had to pretend to be someone you weren’t? That’s just sad. Good luck with the rest of your books.”

She slammed the door so hard behind her, a breeze grazed my face. I sank onto my bed, my shoulders shuddering as I fought the sobs. I risked a look up at Gavin. He stood with his hands in the pocket of the hoodie. He’d removed the sunglasses, and his eyes flickered between the book in the trash, the laptop, and me.

“You understand, right?” I croaked out. “The need to be someone else? The willingness to do what you need to succeed? I couldn’t put my own face on my books. I couldn’t bear the idea of people seeing me for—”

He held up a hand to stop me. “I really like you, Elise. Probably more than I’ve liked anyone before.”

“I like you, too.” My voice felt like a whisper as it caressed my tongue. I wasn’t even sure he’d heard me.

“But I told you things. Things I’ve never shared with anyone. I trusted you.”

“I know, and I wanted to tell you, I tried to tell you, but—”

“No. I gave you all that and you couldn’t even tell me who you really were?”

“It’s not like that, Gavin. Lots of authors have pen names. It isn’t a big deal.”

He took a step back. “Not a big deal? You and Aubrey—wait, what’s her real name?”

I sniffled. “Veronica.”

“Veronica.” He said the word long and slow, as though he were trying to get the hang of forming his lips to it. “You and Veronica played me. You played all of us. She just, what? Wanted to play celebrity?”

My shoulders sagged. “Partly.”

“Partly?”

“Well, that and money. I had to give her half my royalties.”

“Elise! You paid her to be you?” I couldn’t find any words so I nodded. “That’s so fucked-up. You know, I think your roommate had the right idea. I need to get out of here.”

“Gavin, please don’t go. I’m sorry.”

I jumped up from the bed and reached for him, but only managed to graze the sleeve of the sweatshirt. He turned when he got to the door and traced an
e
down the right side of his face, a reminder he was one of the few people I’d revealed my sign name to. My chest ached as he signed one last phrase.

I’m sorry, too.

T
he dorm room felt stifling after an entire day of sobbing into my pillow. I left its confines and wandered the campus aimlessly until my fingers grew numb and my body shivered beneath my thin sweater. The lights of the library broke through the shadows at my feet, and I ducked inside, sighing as my body soaked in the warmth.

The smell of musty books and the fluorescent lighting comforted me in a way my pillow and the cold night air couldn’t. Standing in the middle of the library was like wrapping my coziest blanket around my shoulders. I walked to the back and took the rickety stairs that led up to the stacks. It was always the least busy spot, and I knew it would be somewhere I could sit alone and think about everything.

I grabbed a random book off the shelf before plopping into a wooden chair. That was when I noticed the book sitting at the end of the table. I groaned as a familiar Viking couple glared at me. Seriously? I’d snagged the one table with a
Viking Moon
novel on it? Shoving the book across the surface, I crossed my arms and buried my face in them. A sob choked up my throat and my body shook as I released it into my sleeves.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I jumped, almost falling backward in the chair. A pair of hands grabbed my back and steadied me.

“Hey, Elise. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”

Professor Creed’s eyes were warm behind his glasses. I wiped at my face with my sleeve.

“Yeah, Professor Creed. I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

“Duncan, please. And I come here to write. No one bothers me up here. It’s nice and quiet.”

“Yeah.” I sniffled. “I like it for the same reason. Well, the quiet thing doesn’t really matter to me, but I like that no one’s really around. Sorry if I interrupted your writing.”

“Don’t be sorry, Elise,” he said. “You seem upset. Is there anything I can do?”

“I’m not sure there’s anything anyone can do.”

“Care to talk about it? I’m a good listener. And I have tea. Hang on.”

He moved around a shelf and returned with a silver Thermos. Pulling out a chair beside me, he lowered himself into the seat before prying the top off the Thermos. The lid also served as a cup, and he poured a steaming beverage into it and slid it across the table. The flowery scent of Earl Grey tea wafted up to me. I blew on it before taking a tentative sip, then moaned when the liquid hit my tongue. It warmed me up from my belly to my throat.

“Thank you,” I said. “I needed that.”

“You’re welcome. Now, why don’t you talk to me? Forget I’m your professor. Talk to me as a friend.”

“Uh, sure . . . friends.” Friends with the author I worship? Yeah, okay.

“I’m just a man, Elise. I wrote a few books people liked. That’s it. I’m nothing special.”

I wrapped my hands around the tiny cup, letting the warmth of the tea seep into my fingertips. “Did people treat you differently? You know, after you published the first one and it did so well?”

“I don’t see what this has to do with your problem.”

“Trust me. It has everything to do with it.” I took another sip of tea and let it linger on my tongue, savoring the combination of citrus and floral flavors before swallowing it.

“Well, okay.” He sat back in his chair. “A little, I guess. The people who knew me all wanted copies, some of them signed. I had fans write to me and attend signings. But the people I cared about, my family, my wife, my friends . . . they were mostly just proud.”

“You’re married?”

“I was. She passed away the year
Carnivore’s Teeth
was published. Cancer. It took her quickly.” Sadness blanketed his face, and I looked down at my tea to give him a moment of privacy.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I had no idea.”

“It’s all right. We had many wonderful years together. She was my childhood sweetheart. And I got a beautiful daughter out of it. Actually, my Carolyn’s about your age. She’s away at college in Boston right now.”

“Was that why you never published anything after that? Because of the loss of your wife? I always wondered what happened. I was so disappointed you stopped.”

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I had a hard time being inspired after Joanne left me. My wife was my muse, and it was like she took my heart and soul with her when she left.”

Tears pricked my eyes, and my chest grew heavy. It had hurt when Gavin walked out of my room, but I couldn’t imagine losing a spouse I’d known most of my life. I cleared my throat. “But you said you were here writing? Has something changed?”

He slid his glasses onto his nose, and his eyes warmed like steamed espresso. “Yes. Being around all of you kids and your love for my work has reignited a flame in me. In the last few weeks, I’ve found myself unable to stop writing. It’s wonderful. A feeling I’ve missed for years. And I’ve felt Joanne’s presence at my shoulder every step of the way. I know she’s guiding me through every word.”

“That’s so sweet,” I whispered. “I can’t wait to read it.”

“I can’t wait to finish it. My agent will be over the moon. Poor man wasn’t very happy when I left writing to teach.” He sat forward and peered at me over his lenses. “But we are not here to talk about me. Please, Elise, tell me what’s going on.”

I glanced at the
Viking Moon
novel taking residence on the corner of the table. Abandoning my tea, I slid the book to him. “I wrote this. And the two books that followed it.”

Professor Creed picked up the paperback, studied the cover, then flipped it over. “I know many authors who use pen names, but this, my dear, isn’t you.” He held up the book and Veronica grinned at me from the back.

“Yeah, and that’s the problem.”

Taking a long breath, I blurted out everything to him. The accident, my self-consciousness about my scars, the photo, the television show, and Veronica’s part in it all. I ended with Reggie and Gavin exiting my room and my life only hours before.

He tented his hands and regarded me over them for a long time. I sipped at my tea, grimacing when I discovered it was cold.

“So,” I said when he still hadn’t spoken. “That’s it. I’ve been so distracted in your class because I’ve been trying to figure out what to do.”

“And the conclusion you came to was to pay someone else to pretend to be you?”

I hung my head. “I know. It sounds ridiculous. I didn’t think it would end up so complicated. Who could’ve guessed my roommate would be my number one fan, and the actor I’ve crushed on since forever would actually like me back?”

“Except this isn’t really about that, Elise.” He took a sip from the Thermos.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think your friends are upset you lied to them.”

“Of course they are. My roommate called me a liar.”

“Well, yes, they probably are.” He leaned back in his chair. “But I think they’re more worried you aren’t the person they’ve come to know and love. If this Aubrey Lynch is someone you created to hide behind, how do they know who you really are?”

“But I’ve always been me. I mean, sure, I told them Veronica wrote my books, but I never did anything or acted in any way that wasn’t me.”

“You’ll have to give them some time to see that. Be patient. Show them nothing has changed. If they care about you like it sounds they do, they’ll come around.”

I chugged the last of the now cold tea. “You really think so?”

“It’s completely possible. In the meantime, go home and spend time with your family this coming weekend. It’s Thanksgiving. Remember who you are and who you’ve always wanted to be.”

“Do you think my writing career is over if this gets out?”

He took the empty cup from me and popped it back on the Thermos. “As long as writing burns in your blood, you’ll be a writer, no matter whose picture adorns the back of your books. Look at me, back to writing after all these years. Write a good book. That’s all that matters. The world will forgive.”

“Thanks, Professor Creed.”

“Duncan.”

“Right.” I stood from the table and stretched my arms over my head. “I’d better get back to my dorm. I still have an essay to finish before break.”

“I hope I helped.”

“You did. Thank you.” I stepped toward the stairs before turning back. “Uh, Professor Cr—Duncan. Do you have plans for Thanksgiving? We always have a ton of food and—”

He held up a hand. “I appreciate the offer, Elise, but I’ll be visiting my daughter in Boston for the holidays. We haven’t been particularly close since her mother died, but I refuse to give up on her. One day, I’ll figure out how to connect with her.”

“Okay.” I released a breath. “That’s good. I hope it goes well. Happy Thanksgiving, and good luck with the book.”

“Thank you, Elise. Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

I started down the stairs, my heart slightly lighter than when I’d climbed up. Before I made it past the upper floor, however, I glanced one more time at my professor. He sat at the table, his legs crossed and glasses low on his nose,
Viking Moon
splayed open in front of him.

•   •   •

I skipped my last day of classes before Thanksgiving break in favor of sitting in my empty dorm room, eating greasy food and binge-watching TV shows on my laptop. Every so often, I would glance at Reggie’s empty bed and my heart would clench beneath my rib cage. I’d tried texting both her and Gavin, but hadn’t gotten a reply. I decided to follow Duncan’s advice and leave them alone until after the weekend.

Filming was on hiatus for the next week due to the holidays, so Gavin was probably back in Los Angeles already, anyway. He’d mentioned spending Thanksgiving with his parents and doing a few press interviews for
Viking Moon
.

I texted Clint to make sure Reggie was okay, and the
Yup
I received in reply at least told me the cowboy didn’t hate me enough to ignore me completely.

Jin’s flight landed late that night, and I’d agreed to pick him up from the airport, which was about an hour out of town. I wanted to cancel, but couldn’t leave Jin stranded. Besides, the drive would probably do me good.

Although the November air was chilly, I drove with the windows open to keep myself awake. The wind pricked my cheeks, but it was a welcome change from the tears that had stung them earlier.

I stood in the arrivals section, peering over the heads of the others awaiting the touchdown of their loved ones. When I spotted Jin’s dark hair—tipped with green now—I broke into a grin.

He hadn’t seen me yet. He was busy chatting animatedly with the guy beside him. I chuckled. Leave it to Jin to find the one cute single guy on the plane. The laugh caught in my throat when I noticed they were holding hands.

With everything going on, I’d forgotten about the surprise Jin had mentioned. It looked like this was it.

Jin finally saw me and dropped the guy’s hand in favor of running toward me in slow motion like in one of those cheesy romance movies. I pushed past the man in front of me and met my friend halfway. Jin grabbed me and lifted me from the floor, spinning me around. I shrieked for him to put me down, but once he did, I slung my arms around his neck and buried my face in his jacket.

And with that, we were back to how we’d always been, the fact that years of friendship had been condensed to random texts and Facebook likes over the last few months forgotten. We clung to one another for a few more moments, and I breathed him in. I paused. He no longer sported the clean laundry scent I’d grown accustomed to. He now smelled like a spring garden. I pulled back and cocked my head at him.

“Elise, this is Zach.” Jin released me and tugged the guy I’d seen with him earlier forward. “My boyfriend.”

Zach beamed at me. He had nice teeth. With his blond spiked cut, he looked like he would’ve been more at home near the ocean than in New York.

“No way!” I clapped my hands. “You have an actual boyfriend? Not like, just a date for tonight?”

Zach tossed a look at Jin and my friend laughed. He took Zach’s hand. “No. We’ve been together since school started. This is the real deal.”

I could feel myself grinning from ear to ear like an idiot, but I couldn’t help it. This was exactly what Jin deserved, what he’d been waiting to have for so long. “I’m so happy for you both! Really! That’s amazing.”

“Yeah.” Jin let out a laugh. “I can’t wait for him to meet my mom. She’s gonna love him. He actually cooks.”

“Wow,” I said to Zach as they grabbed their bags. “That’s gonna earn you major brownie points.”

We walked through the airport, and I slipped past the crowds still waiting in arrivals. My car was all the way across the gigantic lot, so I led them there slowly, keeping step beside them.

“So, Zach, are you a theater major, too?”

“Uh, no, I’m a biology major.”

I peered around him at Jin. “Wait, he cooks
and
he’s smart? How the hell did you snag this one?”

“Right?” My friend lifted one eyebrow. “Not to mention, he’s super hot.”

He planted a kiss on Zach’s cheek and I glanced down at my feet. The pavement shimmered as the lights of the parking lot hit it. I clutched my chest as I thought of the times Gavin had kissed me like that. Then I recalled the way he’d trailed kisses down my belly our last night together and blinked to clear my head.