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CHAPTER 33 CASS

January 2007

Los Angeles

We never talked about the book, or the movie, or really anything about our work I except when I asked questions about what it was like being a movie star. “Like being a person, except delusional,” she said, to which I responded, “Deluded, how?” And she said, tenting her fingers and drumming them together, “You’re always in a state of believing something that isn’t really true?” Then she jumped into the pool, and I took that to mean she wouldn’t be elaborating.

I wanted her. But I was scared. And my fears were constantly shape-shifting: Was she feeling how I was feeling? Was she acting like she liked me? Did I deserve this, this state of wonder, or was I horrible for feeling lightness again? The truth was that I thought about Amanda less those weeks in LA, and about Sidney not unless forced to.

Ryan said she wanted me to stay. As long as you want , she’d said. I texted Sidney that the studio had asked me to extend my trip because it was so helpful to Ryan. They said my contribution was invaluable. I texted her about how much we were getting done, how well it was all going. She knew it was bullshit, and I knew she knew it was bullshit. I just didn’t care—I wanted another few weeks with Ryan more than I wanted a life with Sidney.

Her responses were perfunctory. I was grateful for the emotionally distant medium of text messaging, a baked-in excuse for brevity. And I kept reminding myself that she didn’t own me.

Not exactly.

I . Note from Cate: I was not thinking about work.