Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I sit up so quickly that my head spins. “That’s not true at all. We broke up because we were going in different directions, and I didn’t even like him that much by the end.”
“He wanted to marry you. You told me that freaked you out.”
“Okay, yeah, it did, but not because I was afraid. You knew I wasn’t into him.”
“It just seems like a thing you do when things get serious. You and Spencer were really close, and suddenly you’re done with him because you’re worried you’ll break up in the future.”
“Exactly. What difference does it make if it’s now or a year from now? If anything, it’ll hurt less if I keep things as they are.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I will be,” I say softly. “Don’t worry about me.”
I know Abby wants to argue further, but she concedes and backs toward the door. “I’m going to order pizza for dinner.”
“Sounds great.”
She walks out of the room, and I lie down on the bed again, tempted to scream into my pillow.
I hate snapping at Abby. She doesn’t deserve it after everything she has done to help me. I mean, she cleaned out her spare room so I could live here until I found my own place. Not many people would do that, especially when she disagrees with me being here in the first place.
I can’t tell Abby that I sort of agree with her. I would love to go back to California. I think Shiloh would, too. We were both in our element there.
But I can’t go back. If I’m going to close a door, I have to keep it locked.
And there’s no key.
Chapter Thirty-Six - Spencer
Am I bad at my job? Has this become my new normal?
This is only the second time in my entire life that I’ve flubbed pretty much every line I’m supposed to deliver. I didn’t bother bringing my script for today’s dress rehearsal because I have my lines down when I’m practicing at home. Apparently, that doesn’t translate to the soundstage where we’re going to be filming because I’m doing a terrible job today.
I sigh as the director calls cut on me when I once again fail to deliver an important line. At least we’re not filming for real today. That won’t start until next week. We just finished up a few months of costume design and table reads, and now we’re working on blocking until we get into the deep end of actually filming the movie.
Box office movies take a lot more work than I’m used to, but I don’t mind it. The problem is, my heart isn’t in it. I’d rather be putting this effort into a TV show than another movie.
Plus, I miss Leila. It has been three months since we broke up. Malia told me she moved back to Massachusetts, so there’s no chance of a meet-cute reunion happening. I may never get to see her beautiful face again. I did try calling her a couple of times after a month had gone by, hoping she’d be ready to talk to me, but she didn’t answer. Thankfully, Malia lets me know that Leila is doing okay. At least I don’t have to worry about her.
It’s just myself I have to worry about. I’ve gotten used to her little touches all over the house, so I haven’t hired anyone to change them, but on hard days I’m tempted. Today, when I go back home and sit in the office to review my script again, it’ll be hard to focus because I’ll only be thinking of her.
Her, and the fact that I don’t want to do this movie. TV is where my passion lies. Randy said it’s natural to progress from TV to movies, especially when you’re a child actor, but that it doesn’t go the other way around as smoothly. From experience, he’s right. That doesn’t mean I want to continue with that progression, though. I want to be in a TV show. I like the short episodes and the changing storylines. Movies are great, but they’re not for me.
I probably should’ve figured that out sooner, but here we are, and I’ve got months on set plus a few months of the promo before I can commit to a TV show.
The worst part is that Michael Whitacre, Candy’s father, and producer extraordinaire, is on set today, and he’s walking toward me with a stern look.
I stand up a little straighter and study the script given to me by an intern. I can read the words repeatedly, but it won’t change the fact that though I already have it memorized, I just can’t seem to deliver.
“Mr. James, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you.”
I nearly drop the script. I knew he was coming in my direction, but I didn’t expect him to talk to me.