Page 31

CHAPTER 31 CASS

January 2007

Los Angeles

The hottest movie star in the world was standing barefoot in her backyard wearing basketball shorts, her red hair pulled back. Wide-set eyes, a dusting of freckles, she was just slightly off from symmetrical, which made her that much more striking. Seeing her standing there like that—seemingly without vanity—I wondered what I would have been like if I’d become a movie star, how precious I’d have become about how people saw me. I hoped in this alternate universe I was as chill as Ryan seemed.

The air was different in Los Angeles. You could feel the ocean, which reminded me of the lake, which made me think of Amanda. I took the bag off my shoulder and let it rest on the patio by my feet. I felt unburdened for the first time in six years—glimpsed for a moment the feeling I was chasing, I was pining for, when I’d run away from Amanda. Wide-open space. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. I tried to suppress it. Didn’t want to be the crazy person grinning in the backyard of a movie star. A movie star who seemed like somebody I’d be friends with in another life. (Or maybe this one?)

When Ryan grabbed my bag, I felt her fingers graze my elbow and my body turned on, but my brain built an explanation: a mistake, possibly, or just a kind gesture.

I watched Ryan’s movements, studied her legs as she walked, her fingers as they gripped the sliding door, the way her hands found her pockets after showing me to the guest room. Her body was delivering clues about who she was, what she wanted—I just hoped I was reading them correctly. The subtlety of it, both electrifying and exhausting.

“I’ll be outside,” she said, dipping her head just so, turning to leave.

“Hey Ryan?” I said, before the door closed behind her. She paused, leaned back to me, tipping on one foot.

Whoa . I had jumped in the deep end. I was feeling so much like my old self, I almost introduced myself as Annie.