Forget Hollywood, I Just Want Her

Chapter One

**Aven POV

I walked into the theater--well, I guess I should say I was pulled into the theater by my best friend Ebony. High cheek bones rested under her dark skin. She had eyes that were dark brown, almost black when crazy ideas raced through her head. Ebony had mocha colored hair; "Rich in flavor" she would say. I was oblivious to the words forming on her pouty lips.

   "Aven! AVEN!"

   "What the hell Ebony?" I suddenly snapped out of whatever I was zoning into. My eyes shifted to my best friend, who was talking with her hands more than her actual voice.

   "I see the poster! Oh, girl, doesn't he just look dee-licious? Mmm," Ebony squeaked. Yes, squeaked. What had I gotten myself into? I craned my neck to get a better view of the poster. Being 5'2" has its disadvantages. There it was in its shining glory: the poster. A sheet of paper posted on the wall of a small town movie theater in a tacky gold frame. Easton West. My theory is his parents have troubles with directions. Fresh from California, he is Hollywood's God, placed on a pedestal and doesn't have to do anything but smile pretty and maybe blow a couple kisses. He already had all the girls in Florida whipped. And, I don't even think he's ever set foot in Florida. I rolled my eyes. This was ridiculous. He seemed to be staring right at me from the poster, sporting his million dollar smirk. Sand colored hair, mused in a sexy wind-blown fashion had any girl swooning and dreaming of running her fingers through its silky smoothness. His navy eyes had anyone at hello. His body...well, let's just say he worked out. A lot. I will admit, he's hot. I get the sex appeal. What I don't get are the millions of girls claiming to be in love with a guy they have never even met. Let alone a guy they have never been within 500 feet of.

   "Girl, what chu think?" Ebony looked at me expectantly, awaiting my expert opinion.

   "Oh, Ebony, I'm in love. Easton and I--oh just wait until I marry him--I'm getting hot and bothered just thinking about it." As I imitated the love drunk girls in line in front and behind us, Ebony giggled. I couldn't keep a straight face.

   "I'm not THAT bad am I? But seriously, what do you think Aven?"

   "Ebs, you are that bad. It's actually comical. As for Mr. West over there...I'll admit he's hot. But I won't have my final opinion until I see his acting and--"

   "Aven, again about the acting? Why can't you just pretend to be in love like all the other girls in line here? You are so wrecking all my dirty fantasies with Mr. Hotsuff." Ebony finished her little speech that went back to staring at the poster. I think I saw a little drool as she liked her lips, imagining what her tongue could do to that boy. I rolled my eyes and looked at the line. Still out the door. All for one movie.

After million hours and squeals, we made our way to the ticket booth. I looked up at the ticket seller. Her name tag read "Martha". And Martha looked bored. She took one look at Ebony and said, "Two for Bot?"

  "Yes, please." I answered for both of us. I had lost Ebony back at the poster. Martha gladly handed us our tickets, but scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked down the long line of teenage girls. Hell for the movie theater staff.

"Ebs, you ready?" And again, I was pulled, this time to the popcorn. Ebony was literally jumping up and down as I purchased our refreshments.

   "Miss, would you like salt on your popcorn?"

   "Yes please."

   "Here you go. Enjoy the show," the concessions manager said as if it were rehearsed. The same phrases spoken to customer after customer; I reminded myself to never work at a movie theater.

   "Aven let's go! Those girls walking out of the show just said that there is a shot of his abs! Mmmm, girl, you don't even want to know what I'm thinking right now."