1. Aspen
Chapter 1
Aspen
“ H ow can someone so hot be so boring?” my roommate, Phaedra Delgado, says as she walks into our house. Technically, it’s my house, but she moved in earlier this year after my therapist suggested I would benefit from living with a friend. I guess having a mental breakdown bad enough to get you institutionalized means you need a babysitter.
“Who?” I ask from my spot on the couch, cuddled up with my rescue cat, Meeko.
“You, grandma. Come on, drop the knitting, let’s go out to the pool and enjoy the last bit of summer.”
I frown. “Phaedra, it’s August in LA. I’m pretty sure we won’t run out of summer heat anytime soon.”
“And yet you’re curled up under a blanket with the fireplace on, knitting a pair of socks.”
“They were going to be for you, but never mind. I’ll give them to someone who appreciates them,” I tease.
“What will convince you to get in the pool with me?” she asks, crossing her arms over her ample chest. Opposite of my tall, slender frame, Phaedra is short and curvy, her fiery personality matching her vibrant style—bold colors and unapologetic confidence.
“Nothing. A sunburn isn’t stylish this late in the season,” I retort.
Phaedra raises a skeptical eyebrow at me. “Then put on sunscreen.”
“I don’t want to; it’ll make me all greasy.”
“Then don’t. It’s after four p.m. anyway, you don’t need sunscreen.”
“Maybe you don’t,” I object, looking pointedly at her year-round tan, thanks to her Mexican heritage.
“I’ll make dinner later,” she offers, knowing how much I hate cooking.
“What will you make? Mac and cheese?” I bite back, knowing Phaedra hates it even more than I do.
“I’ll do you one better—delivery from El Jefe.”
“At least make me one of your famous virgin margaritas to go with it. Only then will I get in the pool with you.”
“What a hard life you have, Aspen,” she jokes. “But fine. Go get changed and I’ll start the margs.”
“Let me just finish this row first,” I say, focusing on my knitting.
“Aspen, I know socks are knitted in the round.”
“I’m touched that you know that, but there are still rows, they’re just technically called rounds.”
She walks over and pulls the blanket from my legs. “Whatever you say, grandma. Now go put on a bikini.”
“Okay.” I sigh, getting off the couch.
A few minutes later, Phaedra catcalls me as I stroll into the kitchen, wearing a tiny red bikini I stole from my supermodel sister, Willow.
“Want me to take these out while you change?” I ask, motioning to the salted glasses she’s pouring the margaritas into.
“Yeah, but add tequila to mine first.”
“One or two shots?”
“Two.”
I pour the shots and take the glasses outside, almost spilling one of the drinks while opening the sliding glass door, but saving it just in time. I set the glasses on a side table and head for the pool shed, grabbing the sunscreen and an inflatable unicorn floatie.
“Which one of these is mine?” Phaedra asks as she walks out to join me.
“The one in the green glass,” I reply.
“Thanks,” she says, taking the first sip. “You make a strong drink, Aspen.”
“Too strong?” I ask, brows knitting together.
She laughs. “Never. That was a compliment.”
“Good. So, how was set today?” I ask. Phaedra and I met seven years ago on the set of Fairview Ridge , the teen TV show we both starred in. After the show ended earlier this year, Phaedra began starring on a new show, a medical drama.
“The same old, same old. We’ve been shooting for the past six weeks and every single day I tell you the same thing. Let’s talk about something more interesting, like your first table-read for Golden Hour tomorrow.”
I groan, grabbing my drink before carefully sitting on the pool floatie and pushing off from the pool wall. The floatie drifts to the far end of the pool in a slow circular motion, the movement echoing my confused thoughts. The film, Golden Hour, is my first project since Fairview Ridge , which is the only project I’ve ever done. Safe to say, I have a lot of mixed emotions about it.
“I’m excited for it. And nervous. A little of both, I think.”
“What’s there to be nervous about? You’re Aspen fucking Jordan. You have a smoothie at Eldora, babe. That’s how you know you’ve made it.”
I roll my eyes at her, and she just shrugs, taking another sip of her drink.
“For starters, I’ve never been in a film before,” I say.
“Yeah, you’ve only been in the most successful teen drama of the decade.”
I ignore her. “And I haven’t met most of my costars before, including Grey Aldridge.”
“You’ve both been acting for years, I’m sure you’ve crossed paths at some point.”
“If I have, I don’t remember it. Plus, he’s intimidating. He’s literally James Bond.”
“Overrated.” Phaedra waves off my concern with her tan hand.
“You’re just saying that because you’re a lesbian.”
“No, they have the hottest Bond bitches in those movies. Still overrated.”
“On top of Grey, it’s directed by Jack Mack. That’s scary.”
“It’s not scary, it’s a guaranteed hit. I don’t know why you’re so nervous; you could literally throw all your acting skills out the window and just stand there looking hot beside Grey in front of Jack Mack’s camera. That’s a successful film if I’ve ever heard of one.”
“You’re braver than me.”
“I’m absolutely not. I’m just stating the facts,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow. “Were you locked up in a mental hospital for a week because you couldn’t handle your anxiety over absolutely everything?”
“Cut yourself some slack, Aspen. Your mom has been fighting some pretty intense cancer—thank God she’s doing better now —and the show that built your career was ending. Either one of those alone would be enough to send someone into a spiral, much less both at once.”
“Maybe.”
“Hey, look at me. You’re going to do great, and the rest of the cast will love you. And if anything goes wrong, I’ll be here to dry your tears with takeout from El Jefe.”
I smile at her. “You’re the best.”
“I just know that there’s nothing a veggie burrito can’t fix.”
Phaedra winks at me before picking up a book.
I continue to float in slow circles, staring at the languid clouds, mind full of thoughts as I reflect on the step I’m about to take. I try to push down the anxiety gnawing at my stomach, but it lingers, sharp and heavy.
It’s easy for Phaedra to brush things off, but I can’t shake the feeling that this stage of my life is mirroring the Earth’s orbit—undetectable day-to-day, but in six months I’ll look back and realize how drastically everything’s changed.