Emma hearts LA (13 page)

‘Yeah, he does. His dress sense is a bit random, but…’

Jessie laughs. ‘So why did you freak out when he kissed you?’

‘I don’t know! I just wasn’t expecting it.’

‘Are you waiting to hear from Alex Hall, is that it?’

I had emailed her after the Warner Brothers visit and she practically had us announcing our engagement on the cover of
People
magazine, but I haven’t heard from Alex since.

‘No. I don’t think so. It was just…it’s Oscar, you know?’

‘I know,’ Jessie says. ‘But you shouldn’t rule it out. Do you fancy him?’

I start walking over the bridge and realise I’ve actually passed the end of our road. I stop and lean on the railing. ‘No. I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it.’

‘Oh, come on,’ she says. ‘You totally have.’

I look at the palm trees reflected in the water. ‘I didn’t when he was at home, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ she agrees.

‘But now…he looks really good. He’s funny and sweet and we get on well.’

‘But there’s no spark?’

I sigh. ‘When I was talking to Alex I had butterflies. In fact, they were more than butterflies, I felt sick. I’ve never felt that with Oscar.’

‘But…’

‘But I think I did when he kissed me.’

‘And it freaked you out,’ Jessie says. She knows me so well.

‘What if it didn’t work out?’ I say. ‘We could hardly still be friends.’

‘But what if it did work out? And don’t forget you may not be able to be friends after this anyway,’ she says.

‘Oh, god. You’re right. Unless we both agree never to mention it again?’

Jessie laughs. ‘Yeah, that sounds healthy.’

‘Ugh,’ I say, smiling. ‘You’ve been in New York too long.’

When I get home, I can’t settle. I feel so restless that I even think about going for a run. And I don’t run. Instead, I get the notebook I bought at Small World Books and take it out on the upstairs terrace.

I can’t believe Oscar kept that moon drawing all this time. I remember exactly when I drew it. We’d been to Jodrell Bank Observatory with the school, which was a bit mad because my parents worked there. I bought a holographic postcard of the moon in the gift shop. At first, I was going to send that to Oscar, but then I decided to try and draw it myself. I did it on the coach on the way back to school, while everyone else was screeching and snogging and playing music on their phones. People thought I was being a bit weird, I know, but once I started, I couldn’t stop. It was like I was in my own peaceful little bubble. That’s exactly what I want right now.

I start drawing the potted palm tree in the corner of the terrace and everything else goes away. I get totally engrossed in recreating the leaves on the page and it’s only when I’ve done it and I look up that I remember I’m sitting in the evening sunshine by the side of a canal in LA. While I was drawing, I could have been anywhere. Or nowhere.

Did I really stop drawing because Dad pushed me? I wish I could remember. I think about what Bex said – or what Bex said Dad said – that I give up on things too easily. I think it’s a way of protecting myself, so I don’t invest too much in something and then find it doesn’t work out.

The light is flashing on my phone and I pick it up, expecting it to be Oscar, but it’s a message from my dad:
HOPE ALL IS OK OUT THERE. MISS YOU. HOPE WE CAN TALK SOON
.

I turn my phone off.

‘Emma. Emma. Emma. Emma!’

‘Whaa?’ I say, from under the quilt. What is it with LA and getting woken up at stupid o’clock? Why won’t California let me sleep?

‘You left your phone on the terrace,’ Bex whispers.

‘So?’ I say. Or rather, groan.

‘You’ve got a call. It’s Alex Hall.’

‘Rhymes,’ I mumble and then realise what she said. Alex Hall. Is calling me. And I’m asleep. I reach my hand out from under the duvet and Bex puts my phone in it. I bring it back under the covers and take a deep breath.

‘Hello?’

‘Did I wake you?’ he says. His voice sounds even nicer on the phone.

‘No!’ I say, trying to drag myself up on to my pillows.

Bex is bouncing up and down at the foot of my bed.

‘I did, didn’t I?’ he says.

‘Just a bit. What time is it?’

‘Ten,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll let you go back to sleep.’

‘No, no, honestly. It’s fine. I need to get up anyway.’

‘Oh. I just wondered. I was…’ He pauses.

Is he actually nervous? Talking to me?

‘OK,’ he says. ‘I’ve been running on the beach and I was just going to get breakfast and I wondered if you’d want to join me?’

‘I’ve already eaten,’ I say, smiling.

Bex pulls a ‘WTF?’ face.

‘Right,’ Alex says. ‘Sure. Sorry. I shouldn’t have phoned so early. I’ll—’

‘I’m joking,’ I say. ‘I’d love to come and meet you. Where are you?’

‘Do you know the Starbucks on Washington?’

‘Yes. I’ll have to grab a shower so I’ll be about half an hour, is that all right?’

‘Cool,’ he says. ‘I’ll do another couple of miles and see you there.’

I end the call and practically throw myself out of bed.

‘I’ll get in the shower, you find me something to wear,’ I tell Bex. ‘And can you google the quickest way to get to the Starbucks on Washington?’

She salutes and I fling myself into the bathroom.

Almost exactly thirty minutes later, I’m on Washington Boulevard, facing Starbucks and waiting for the lights to change. It was a really easy walk to get here – right along the main canal – but I still feel flustered. It’s a bit much to be woken by a phone call inviting you on a date with a celebrity. Doesn’t really give you much time to adjust to the idea.

I don’t know if Alex can see me from inside the coffee shop, so I’m really conscious of crossing the road without falling over or otherwise making an arse of myself. Luckily the door says
PULL
so there’s none of the pushing a pull door awkwardness. As soon as I’m inside, I see him. He’s in the corner next to the window. He’s got his phone in his hand, but he grins as soon as he sees me and stands up.

‘Hi,’ I say, brilliantly. All the way here I was trying to think of a fabulous opener, but it’s just too early.

He reaches his hand out and then shakes his head and says, ‘Ah, sorry – sweaty,’ and wipes it on his T-shirt instead.

And he is pretty sweaty. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and a grey beany hat and I can see that the ends of his hair are damp. He’s got iPod headphones hanging around his neck.

I sit down opposite him and say, ‘So you run on the beach?’

He nods. ‘Not every day, but pretty often. Do you run?’

I laugh. ‘No. I’m not a runner, no.’

‘You should try it. It’s pretty amazing.’

‘Maybe I will,’ I say. ‘Climate change may make hell actually freeze over.’

He looks at me with a puzzled expression and then laughs. ‘You’re funny.’

I smile and try to think of something else to say, but my mind’s blank. And then my stomach rumbles. Loudly.

‘Oh god!’ Alex says, and actually smacks himself on the forehead. ‘Can I get you a drink? Something to eat?’

‘That would be great, thanks,’ I say. ‘Can I have a latte? And…’ I crane my head to look at the food, but I can’t really see. ‘What are you having?’

‘I usually get a wrap,’ Alex says. ‘The spinach, feta and egg white’s really good.’

I resist saying, ‘Seriously?’ and instead say, ‘How about a muffin?’

‘OK.’ He stands up, but his headphones get caught on the back of the chair and ruck his T-shirt up, showing a thin strip of his stomach and, yes, washboard abs. I saw him completely shirtless last week, so I don’t know why it gives me such a thrill, but there’s just something about seeing a strip of stomach when someone’s dressed. I’ve got dots in front of my eyes.

Once he’s disentangled himself, Alex says, ‘What flavour muffin?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I say. ‘Surprise me.’

He grins and goes to the counter.

While I’m waiting I watch a woman outside trying to get a little dog to cross the road, but it’s sitting down and refusing to budge. It’s actually looking up at her with an expression on its face like ‘Make me’. She tugs on the lead for a bit, but then gives up and just picks the dog up under her arm. It doesn’t look impressed. I watch them as they cross the road and it’s only when they walk out of my line of sight that I notice a man leaning against the wall opposite. He’s dressed all in black including a back-to-front baseball cap and fiddling with the massive camera hanging around his neck.

Just as I’m shifting my seat so my back’s to the window, Alex comes back. He puts two drinks and a muffin down on the table and sits down.

‘I think that guy over there is paparazzi,’ I say, pulling my latte towards me.

Alex glances over and says, ‘Oh, yeah. He took some shots of me on the beach. He hangs around a lot.’

‘Doesn’t it bother you?’

He shrugs. ‘Nah. It’s part of the job.’

‘It gives me the creeps,’ I say. ‘I’d never be able to properly relax.’

Alex pulls his hat off and runs his hand through his damp hair. ‘You get used to it, honestly.’

I sip my latte and look at the muffin Alex brought. It looks unusual. ‘What is this muffin?’

‘Apple bran. Is that OK?’

‘Great,’ I say. But apple bran? Seriously? When there are chocolate muffins in the world? That’s just wrong.

A female barista comes over and gives Alex his wrap, along with a flirty smile. I look at him, but he doesn’t even seem to have noticed. It must be something else he’s used to.

While we eat, he tells me how, just over a year ago, he moved to LA from Austin with his mum after his parents got divorced.

‘I came out for pilot season – Mom said if I didn’t get a job then we’d go home and I could try again when I was eighteen. But
Stellar Highway
was the third audition I had, so…’

‘So you stayed?’

He nods. ‘We went back and got a truck full of all our stuff and drove back.’

‘Drove? Isn’t it really far?’

‘Fifteen hundred miles? Something like that. We took a few days. My mom likes a road trip.’

‘That sounds really cool,’ I say. ‘We used to drive down to France, but my dad was really anal about it. Plotted the route down to the last mile. It wasn’t exactly relaxing.’

He laughs. ‘My mom’s the opposite. I was worried we’d never get here. She was all for going to Vegas and the Grand Canyon.’

‘So you got here, you got
Stellar Highway
and you never looked back?’

He grins. ‘Something like that.’

‘Is your dad still in Austin?’ I ask.

He nods, his mouth full of food. Then he swallows and says, ‘Yeah. We don’t really talk.’

I think about how I’m not really talking to my dad at the moment either and I don’t want to ask him anything else.

While we eat – the apple bran muffin actually isn’t bad, but chocolate would have been so much better – Alex tells me some of the things Bex needs to watch out for at auditions.

‘But Emily’s great,’ he says. ‘She’ll take care of her.’

‘That’s good to know,’ I say. ‘It’s pretty scary to think she could get her own show and start having paparazzi waiting for her outside Starbucks.’ I look out of the window – the guy’s still there, but now he’s talking on his phone.

‘That’s how you know you’ve made it!’ Alex says. He drains the last of his drink and says, ‘Have you got plans for today?’

I shake my head. ‘Just hanging out at home with Bex. You?’

‘I’ve got to go and do some press.’

‘Oh, OK. Cool.’

We both stand and Alex walks around the table and opens the door for me. I follow him out into the street and notice the paparazzi guy straighten up and lift his camera. Alex puts his hand on my arm and steers me past the outside tables. At first I’m not sure what he’s doing, but then I realise he’s putting himself between me and the photographer.

‘I’d walk you back,’ he says, ‘but he’ll follow me now, so…’

‘No, that’s fine,’ I say. ‘This was really nice. Thank you for calling.’

‘Sorry again for waking you up,’ he says, and grins. His hand’s still on my arm and I don’t really know what to do. Is he expecting a kiss? I’m not sure I want to kiss him in front of the people sitting outside and particularly not with a photographer so near.

‘So, I’ll call you,’ Alex says.

‘Great.’

He glances back over his shoulder at the photographer, who is heading this way and then he turns and runs across the road. The photographer immediately chases after him, shouting his name.

I wait until Alex has got in his car, before crossing the road and walking back home.