Chapter 5 Don’t Be Suspicious
Don't Be Suspicious
Crew
When I find Vinny at the local coffee shop, working his midday shift, the first thing I do is ask him about Carly.
“Why do you want to know?” Vinny asks, eyeing me suspiciously as he wipes a table next to me. “You got a thing for her?”
“No.” If only he knew. “I just need to ask her something.”
He’s the only person who truly knows why I stopped acting. People think it’s just because I want to earn a degree and focus on education, but even when I walk that stage and shake the dean’s hand, there’s no way in hell I’ll return to that part of Hollywood.
“Crew, is there something you’re not telling me?” Vinny’s voice grows with concern, and the last thing I want to do is worry him. “And does it have anything to do with that dumb cap?”
“Nothing major,” I lie. “I just want to ask her more about this thing we talked about at Bowl Star. Just want to follow up. And the cap’s not dumb.”
Vinny would call my bluff at this point, but he shrugs instead. “Sure, it’s not. Anyway, Carly’s probably on campus right now. Why don’t you just ask her yourself?”
“What if she’s in class right now?” I respond, hoping it will suffice. “I don’t know her schedule.”
“There’s this hip thing people participate in: texting.” Vinny’s blatant sarcasm peeks through his voice. “You know what? I’m sending you her number.”
Vinny pulls out his phone from his pocket and starts typing. Within the next second, I check my phone to find Carly’s contact in my messages. I frown. “Why do you have her number?”
“Ali gave it to me while you were gone.” My confusion leads to Vinny explaining, “I needed help with a flat tire.”
“You got a flat tire?” This instills a hint of panic in me because Vinny was driving my car while I was in Australia, fulfilling my field quarter requirements.
I was gone for three months.
“That’s not important right now.” He waves it off.
“Just text her about that thing you need to talk to her about. Then she’ll see it after whatever she’s doing and respond.
Problem solved.” He goes back to wiping the surrounding tables but stops for a second.
“Though if you’re going to ask her out on a date, it is better to do it in person than through a text. ”
That’ll be the fucking day. No, if I tell Vinny the real reason why I need to speak to his girlfriend’s best friend, he’d pound my head on the tables so hard that I’d earn a major concussion.
And if that got on the tabloids, I wouldn’t hear the end of it from my mother’s phone calls that I will never answer.
I tilt my cap lower. “What makes you think I’m going to ask her out?”
“Because you seemed to hit it off with Carly,” he casually explains. “I like her, but Ali is very cautious about the men her best friend dates. Something about ‘not being able to measure up to her potential’ or something like that.”
“And you don’t think I could?”
“I know,” he corrects. “That you don’t want to. You’ve avoided anyone involved with the film industry for as long as I’ve known you. I don’t know the extent of what your mother did, but—”
“Vinny, I’m over it,” I assure him, to which he frowns.
“Are you, though?”
Yeah, I tell myself. The first eighteen years of my life, looking back from now, were not the best. Since then, I’ve matured a lot and made a life that I’m quite happy about, except for the traffic, occasional calls from telemarketers, and family that I haven’t spoken to since moving to college.
I’m happy. I’ve moved on. One thousand percent.
“Don’t worry about me,” I say, standing up from the table I was sitting at. “I’m as happy as I was before.”
As I leave the coffee shop, I hear Vinny mutter the words, “That’s not assuring at all.” I amble towards the curb in front of the coffee shop where my car is parked and drive away. Since it’s not that far from the school’s campus, I arrive within minutes.
Choosing to neglect my phone and text Carly, I go with my gut and head toward the one area of campus I actively avoid: the school of theater, film, and television.
During the first two years of school, the on-campus housing was fairly close to the building, so I would walk a longer route to get to my classes.
This would be the first time I’ve ever stepped near the vicinity. The things I do just to talk to a girl.
As I approach the main entrance, I spot Carly sitting on the concrete bench from a distance, glancing down at a lime green book in her lap.
Maybe the light blue crewneck she’s wearing causes her to stand out, but it doesn’t make sense because it’s one of our school colors.
Strands of chestnut brown hair fall in her face, yet she doesn’t stir.
I thought that I would find her socializing with others, which would give me an excuse to leave and not talk to her, but the universe literally paved the way for me. After glancing at my watch, I curse at the time–four o’clock. Everything makes more sense.
As if she senses my presence, she gazes up from her book, and her pale blue eyes meet mine with nothing but surprise.
“What are you doing here?” She asks, removing her earphones and closing her book. I glance at the cover to find her reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower before she puts it away. “Also, why are you wearing a cap? It just makes you look more suspicious, Movie Star.”
Because I remember which school I attend, and what town I live in.
A beacon for most celebrities and actors.
The chances of the paparazzi recognizing me in my day-to-day life are higher than most, and a cap is the most convenient option because you can’t see my face that well when I’m wearing it.
Or my hair, which I’ve kept short for the past four years.
Yet, something about Carly has me removing the gray cap from my head, placing it on the bench beside her. “Suspicious?”
She nods. “Now, may I repeat myself—what are you doing here? Not that I don’t want to see you, but—”
“How did you know?” I blurt out. “About Ali.”
Her eyes widen with intrigue. “Oh, so you’re finally speaking about it.”
I nod. “How deeply were you analyzing me?”
“Crew,” she laughs. “I wasn’t. I figured it out the day I first met you at H-Mart.”
Now it’s my turn to act shocked. She knew this the entire time? Either I suck at hiding my feelings, or she’s good at reading me. Regardless, I’m screwed.
“Before you freak out,” she continues. “I don’t think they know.”
“Then how the hell did you figure it out?”
“First of all, you were about as red as a tomato when talking to her. Your voice was a lot lighter, your breath intake was more rapid—it was so obvious.”
Oh, so according to Carly Ryder, I’m about as transparent as a clean aquarium tank. That’s exactly what I want to hear.
“Second of all,” she continues, placing the book she’d been reading earlier back into her backpack. “I hope to be a director. Part of that job is to detect what’s working and what’s not.”
“Not really. You’d be surprised by how many directors are clueless about things.” Most directors are about as surface-level as some people believe, mostly caring about what project they’re working on rather than the people who are a part of it.
“Well, that’s just bad directing, in my eyes. Besides, even if I didn’t figure it out, it would come out anyway.”
Panic settles into my chest again, the idea of anyone finding out is causing my heart to race. “But it’s not supposed to come out.”
She shrugs. “The truth always finds a way, man. I don’t know what to tell you, other than the fact that you suck at hiding your emotions. Maybe it’s because you grew up as an actor, and some practices from long ago are instilled in you, even now.”
I can see it happening in my eyes: everything that could fall apart if my feelings were exposed. Secrets are sometimes what keep people sane. I’m a totally sane person for keeping this crush a secret, right?
“Maybe it’s because I’m awesome at reading people, so it might just be me who thinks that way,” she continues. “I’m known to be quite observant.”
That’s the biggest understatement about Carly that I have ever heard. She would be a powerhouse of a film director if she stays in that path after graduation.
As she stands up, she gives me an understanding glance. “Everyone is hiding something, Movie Star.”
Is that supposed to be assuring?
“And this conversation,” Carly continues, ignoring whatever unease is on my face—that she could easily find, most likely.
“Will stay between us. If it gets out somewhere, it won’t be because of me.
” She pats my shoulder before standing up and grabbing her bag.
“This was a nice chat, Movie Star, but I should get going.”
She grabs my cap, placing it back onto my head, adjusting it slightly so that it rests askew above my hair, which I somehow find comforting, and heads off in the direction of one of the parking structures.
While I stay seated by the building, watching her tall frame disappear in the distance, my curiosity piques.
Should I find it in me to trust her?