Page 78 of Dream On, Ramona Riley

But Ramona wasn’t Hollywood.

“Um” was all Dylan could think to say as the cool air in the café hit the bare skin of her stomach and chest. Ramona’s cheeks bloomed red, her eyes flitting down to Dylan’s boobs before darting away. She pressed her mouth together, cleared her throat. It was sort of adorable, if Dylan were being honest. Still, she needed to fill theawkward silence with something as Noelle yanked off her stained shirt.

“Noelle, this is my friend, Ramona,” she said, nodding in Ramona’s direction.

Ramona’s eyes went wide. “H-h-hi.”

“Hey, there,” Noelle said, smiling as she tugged the blouse onto Dylan’s body. “You’re from here?”

Ramona nodded, then straightened her shoulders. “Lived here all my life. With one exceptional year.”

“And what was that?” Noelle asked. Her fingers worked quickly on the mother-of-pearl buttons, then she moved on to tucking the shirt into Dylan’s shorts, a task Dylan could’ve easily done herself, but Noelle was famously meticulous, so Dylan let her do her thing.

“What was what?” Ramona asked.

“What was your exceptional year?” Noelle asked.

“Oh.” Ramona swallowed, ran her hand over the back of her neck. “I was at RISD for a while.”

Noelle brightened at that. “Were you? I went to RISD.”

Ramona smiled. “I know.”

“What’s your medium?” Noelle asked, finally finishing with Dylan. But before Ramona could answer, Gia bellowed that it was time to go again. Ramona hurried off set, and Noelle adjusted Dylan’s shirt a bit more, calling Vee over with an iPad to compare it to the shirt in the scene before.

And then they were off again. Dylan Monroe receded, and Eloise Tucker took over, fumbling and blushing and spilling coffee around a girl she’d all but given up as lost.

Chapter

Nineteen

Ramona couldn’t stopshaking.

She wasn’t sure if it was adrenaline from officially meeting Noelle Yang, or the fact that Noelle was perfect and lovely and asked about her life, or the fact that Dylan had no idea about this said life, at least not anything that Ramona really wanted or dreamed.

ButNoelle Yang.

Ramona also couldn’t stop smiling. She leaned against the hallway wall, half watching the scene, half replaying the admittedly very short conversation she’d just had with her actual hero.

Her fingers itched to create something—a tea-length dress covered in tiny solar-powered lights, chiffon underneath that rustled when the wearer moved, a gentleshhhpaired with the sparkle and shine. That was what she’d put Eloise Tucker in for her big party that took place toward the end of the book. Off-white satin with a blush-pink, light-infused swirl over the whole dress, capped sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, like a queer Audrey Hepburn.

It was perfect, this picture in her mind. She knew a large part of a costume designer’s job was to simply select existing garments that fit a character—but Noelle designed plenty of her own pieces too, and that was what Ramona loved most. That a piece that existedbecause Ramona made it so, the creation, drawing and sewing into being.

As she watched Dylan and Blair act out their roles, Dylan perfectly flustered and unsure, Blair like a comet on its sure path, her chest felt like it was full of sparklers, that excitement and longing that she just couldn’t shake.

And she didn’t want to. She let her mind wander, dozens of designs taking shape in her mind, rich fabrics for Mallory and simple elegance for Eloise. Then she drifted off into other books she’d loved, queer stories that she could see so clearly on the screen, the clothes that surrounded the actors bringing them to life, making themreal, the magic of a simple blazer or pair of jeans or the most elaborate suit or dress her imagination could conjure. Itwasmagic, and she—

“Hey,” Dylan said, suddenly beside her and beaming. Sweat dotted her brow, but her smile could’ve lit the entire room. All around them, things were being broken down, crew packing up. Ramona glanced at her watch and realized hours had passed while she stood in the hallway, daydreaming.

Because that’s all it really was…a daydream.

Wasn’t it?

“You’re done?” she asked Dylan.

Dylan nodded, still grinning. She took both of Ramona’s hands between them. “And I kicked ass and I want to go celebrate. You with me?”

Ramona felt that same sparkly sensation in her chest—because she wanted this too.