Nerds With A Chance [A Logan Lerman Fanfic]

Chapter 5

“Well I guess that’s all from me,” Logan smiled at the group kindly, “Come say hi to me sometimes on set, okay guys?”

The girls cooed over-enthusiastically, snapping up their stupid metallic purses that I swear could hold nothing more than a phone and some money if they were lucky.

“Logaaaan,” the blond bimbo from earlier called out, her voice sickingly sweet, “So who are you going to pick?”

He looked confused for a second till it dawned on him, the whole ‘special opportunity’ thing with the actors that Dian and crew had planned for us finally coming to mind. “Oh well um…” he began looking slightly uncomfortable. His eyes scouring the rooms nervously, before he eventually replied, “It’s been mentioned to me. But it really isn’t my choice.”

“Who’s is it then?” some Asian guy around my age asked him.

Thinking for a second, Logan tugged at his black jacket collar uncomfortably, weirdly avoiding my gaze. “It’s my PA’s.”

His PA?

Milly.

Frowning, I scooped my hoodie from the back of one of the chairs and hurled it over my head, yanking it down angrily.

Logan might’ve noticed, although it was most likely the whole reason he seemed uneasy to say it was because he already knew, even though I hadn’t told him directly, how I felt about Milly.

Damien stiffened beside me; he knew.

I didn’t feel like listening to the rest of the conversation, so, instead, I tugged my hoodie higher and stomped out the room irately.

That’s when I noticed somebody following me. Slightly ticked off, I whirled around, glaring; only to see the same grey-eyed, curly-haired brunette girl from earlier. I raised a brow at her.

“Zeph, right?” she started, a little uncertainly, sensing my dark mood.

I nodded tersely.

Seeing that I wasn’t planning on helping the conversation out, she picked it up for me. “You okay?”

I narrowed my eyes. I hated it when people asked me if I was ‘okay’. Guess it is one of those things that just seemed to always peeve me off. “I’m fine. Just perfect,” I snapped at her unpleasantly.

Unfazed, she walked around me and continued down the corridor, expecting me to follow.

“You know you don’t have to worry.”

What?!, I blanked in my mind confusedly.

Outwardly, I shot her a pointed glare, huffing after her. “What?”

She shrugged, not looking at me. “You don’t have to worry about those girls.”

This girl obviously wasn’t elaborating much, but all the same, I knew exactly what she was on about. She was saying I didn’t have to worry about all those girls fawning over Logan.

Why would I care? I didn’t care whether they fawned or not.

Who was I to care?

I barely knew Logan. I mean, I only met him two days ago, really. We had dinner, acted a scene together and had a couple of friendly, everyday chats. That was the extent of our ‘relationship’.

Although somewhere, in that stupid underlying inner voice of mine, whispered: Not to mention he touches you un-needingly, stares in your eyes for extensive periods of time and tried to kiss you twice. This followed by stereotypical evil laughter.