coast ; walker scobell

one.

CASSANDRA

I look down at the jumble of lyrics in my notebook, frowning. None of it makes sense. None of it will sound appealing to my fans. I look up at Lily. Her dark brown hair whips around as she pounces across the sofa to me. Scanning the page, she nods with a gleeful smile. "It's great! Come on, Cass, that's a Grammy right there."

"Idiot," I seethe, flinging the notebook out of my sight. "Everyone's expecting me to release something good. Great." I share my head, looking down at my empty lap.

"Just because three words was phenomenal, it doesn't mean it can't be beaten," Lily tells me hastily, rushing to retrieve my notebook. "This is really good. Come on, I can feel the emotion through the page."

"Blah-blah," I sigh, scrubbing my hand over my face. "I need to leave people starstruck." Lily looks like she's about to slap me, but she simply settles beside me and coaxes my head onto her shoulder. "No, you need to write a song that you want to sing. With lyrics that are important to you. If it isn't yours, then it won't be good. That song, there? That is yours."

"You should start your singing career," I grumble. She laughs heartily - the girl does have a voice, but her dream is to be an author. Somehow, her writing prowess does not extend to songwriting. She's tried, trust me. It wasn't pretty.

"Stop trying to set me up for failure, Cass." She nudges my notebook into my lap with a pretty grin, a persuasive expression melting her features. I've never fallen for it once.

"Fine," I sigh, just to make her shut up. "I'll give it a try in the studio." I pick up my phone to text my agent and scream, lurching off the sofa. "Oh my gosh, Walker's going to call me in, like, a minute."

"I can't believe you're actually sticking to that schedule," Lily rolls her eyes, staring at me like she knows something I don't. "You don't stick to anything."

"Lils, I don't pay you to insult me, I pay you to be my best friend," I snap, pointing to the door.

"There's the door, bitch," she mocks the Mean Girls line mid-laugh, taking a leisurely pace in the direction of the exit. I sigh loudly, waiting for her to leave.

I wait for three minutes. Four. Five. He doesn't ring. I start calling him, and he doesn't reply. Where the hell are you, Walker? I stare blankly at my feet. He never misses a call. Never, ever.

I text him.

Walkie-cannot-talkie

Goodnight!!!

Tuesday, Jan 5 at 09:12

Walks, don't tell me your dead

very funny

wya loser

its a secret

now tell me

secret :)

pick up plssss

bye

I groan and throw my phone behind me onto my sofa. He never misses a call, we don't keep secrets, and he's being unusually dry. And on his birthday. Something's gone wrong, and I don't like it. I squint at my door, jumping out of my skin when it clicks open.

Oh. My. God. Standing there, on his own birthday, with a bouquet of red and white lilies, is Walker Scobell. In all his glory, a year older than the last time I physically saw him.