“Just a little bit of like, nothing more, right?”
Slightly Starstruck
I’m late because of a celebrity. That’s a new one.
When someone asks to get in your car because they’re being chased, you’d say no.
But scratch that. When a celebrity asks to get into you’re car because they’re being chased, would you say no? Of course not.
That’s most people. But then there’s me.
The first thing I’d ask myself: Do I like this celeb? Then pick.
Yeah, Lily, I’m sure that celeb can kill you later, when they’re not being mobbed by fans.
Usually, when I see movie stars, and I see them a lot since my mom dominates the film industry as the owner of Spotlight, the number one teenage channel, with aspiring stars, I’m not that fazed.
But when Ryan Haynes, the TV star, came tapping at my car door, looking slightly more than frazzled, I lost my cool. I was surprised.
On a Saturday afternoon, when I was almost snoozing in my car, waiting for Isabella, Izzy, as I’d call her, to move her butt a little faster so we could go to practice, the last thing I expected was the star of Mom’s best TV show, Starstruck, to come knocking at my car window.
And even I hadn’t met him yet!
So being the terrible person I could be, I decided to freak the kid out.
I pulled down the window. “Can I help you?” I asked.
“Yeah!” He almost shouted. “I need a ride!”
I pretended to be confused. “Hm... I don’t see any around.”
I swear he was about to curse right then. He looked at me in panic.
I smirked, and then rolled my eyes. “Get in the car, idiot; I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
Ryan looked relieved, and pulled opened the door. I took off as soon as he buckled in, and we drifted away from the crowd of teenage girls that arrived where he was standing, confused at his disappearance.
“Thank you,” He said graciously (A shocker, coming from Mr. Bigshot) and then slumped in his seat. “Sweet ride.” He traced the leather seat of my dark blue Mercedes. He gave me a grin.
He was the definition of good looking and hot. He had really dark brown hair, tan skin, and bright twinkling blue eyes. And that face, oh, that sharp jawline, with expressions mixed between innocent and masculine.
Oh, the girls at school would kill for this.
He was a lot taller than I was, and somewhat broad shouldered, but he didn’t have that much of deep voice that I’m not a fan of.
“But I’m not exactly a hotshot celeb,” I smiled teasingly. “I’m sure you have better,”
He grinned. “What’s your name? I’m sure you know mine,”
“And what if I don’t, Ryan Haynes?” I asked and rolled my eyes with a grin. “I’m Lillian Evans. Call me Lily.”
“You’re very pretty, Lily,” He gave me a crooked smile.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Thanks?” He’s gotta slow down. #Flirtingmuch? He smiled in return, flashing ultra-white teeth and dimples. Oh, boy. I can’t fall for this.
I knew I was pretty, with golden eyes, and honey brown hair, I had somewhat in between pale and tan skin, and was pretty well-liked at school.
But personally, I didn’t care for his shower of flattering comments. Okay, I may have turned a small shade of red.
But that didn’t have a lot to do with what he said. This was handling the situation very well, compared to what other teenage girls would do.
I turned a corner and pulled over. “You’re not very good at taking care of yourself,” He gave me a silly smile, and I blew a gust of air through my teeth. “Where do you need to go?”
“Um, I think it was the, NYC Golden Penthouses,” He second-guessed himself. “Or was it Hotels?”
This threw me off guard. No, not the part where he doesn’t know where he’s going.
I mean, kind of. But he probably has a manager to do all that fun stuff.
“What a coincidence,” I mumbled under my breath. “That’s where I live. Golden Penthouses. I know you’re not talking about NYC Hotels ‘cause there’s no such thing.”
“Oh,” Ryan smiled, (Man, he smiles a lot.) and his eyes had a glimpse of hope. “Saves you time, I guess,”
Maybe that was just me, but his eyes looked anticipated. Yeah, his dreamy blue eyes that I melted in.
Whoa! Hold up, Lily. Snap out of it. In what world would he like you?
I started my car again, and I continued my questions. Well, one question, since I realized, I was in a bit of a dilemma.
“Why are you in New York?” I asked while glancing at the time. Oh, shoot! I was going to be late.
Soccer practice started at three, and it was 2:50. It took fifteen minutes to get home, and then another ten to go to school. It was much easier going straight there.
“Oh, crap,” I mumbled. “Sorry, Ryan?” He turned, and cocked an eyebrow. “We might have to take a detour,” I flushed.
Coach was gonna kill me! Not to mention, Izzy, who I just bailed on!
Nope! I definitely didn’t have time for her, especially with this one to babysit.
“Why?” He asked, and I sharply took a left. “I have practice at three. I’m never gonna make it if I go home, then to school.” I could not let this idiot of a movie star, make me late for practice.
“What about me?” Ryan questioned, a slight tone of worry in his masculine voice. “Paparazzi aren’t guaranteed to not bite, especially when I get out of a girl’s car.”
“Uh,” I bit my lip while pausing at a street light. I really didn’t have time for this. He seriously has to be more responsible. “Stay in the car, contact your manager,” I pushed a compartment from the top of the car, and pulled out my sunglasses. “Or try these. They’re black?” I offered, and he accepted.
“Okay,” He threw a hand to his hair. “I’ll do the latter?” The light turned green and I turned.
“I’m supposed to go to enroll at some high school today,” He continued to answer my question, while I pulled into school. 2:57. Whew!
“Wait, I think it’s this—“ I didn’t hear what he said next because I pushed open the door and grabbed my duffel bag. He came scrambling out on the other side, sunglasses and all, and I grabbed his hand and ran toward the field.
“Coach! Coach!” I shouted. “I’m here!” I saw Coach give me a nod, and I sighed, as I walked into school to change.
When I turned, I saw Ryan with a very big smirk on his face. I ignored him, otherwise I would be very confused, and I certainly had no time for that. I pushed him inside the office.
“Explain your situation, make a call,” I instructed. “I’ll be outside if you need me.” I paused. “You could call my mom,” I debated before scribbling her number onto a post-it, and handed it to him.
“Why would I call your mom?” He stared at me like I’d lost it. Yeah, says the one who almost got caught by fans, before his director/producer’s daughter saved him. Yeah, I’m the one who lost it.
“Trust me,” I shook my head. “You’ve probably talked to her more times than you can count. Just do it.” He stopped looking at me, and just looked confused, as if he was trying to recollect something.
“And try not to be so—“ I made various movements with my hands. He raised an eyebrow.
Hot, and center of all attention, sunglasses or not. “Overwhelming.” I finished, far from what I meant.
He turned to the front desk, and I saw the secretary frown, then as he took of his sunglasses, gasp.
Yeah, yeah. Get over it, woman. We’ve all been there.
And just as I stepped out of the room to go, I heard:
“Welcome, Mr. Haynes, we’ve been expecting you!” Wait, what?!

Keep Reading

Chapter 2

Great. I’m stuck being babysitter.

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