Starbird

Chapter 32

By the time the sun was setting, I was completely drained.

And it wasn’t just because I had been walking a lot.

The revelation of my crush and kiss to Carson sucked and I wasn’t entirely too thrilled that he knew too. I had enough people that knew this and, if I wasn’t more careful, the whole world would know.

Unfortunately, that’s not an exaggeration.

I walked around the Arc de Triomphe for a while before telling James I wanted to explore the Champs-Elysées and the surrounding areas. After making sure my phone was charged, he let me go and told me he would call me when they finished filming so they could come get me. Without another word, I hopped in the elevator and took off for the main road in Paris.

It was liberating to wander a grand city with no one other than other tourists and passerby's moving around me. I was free to go into any shop or stop to take pictures of any piece that fascinated me, or practice my French on a waiter at the café who definitely knew English. At least he told me that I spoke well. Too bad he had to finish that comment with, “for an American.” Thanks man, way to earn points with the customers.

Once afternoon hit, I was in the Tuilerie Gardens, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the fountain, going through all my pictures. My Monster was filling up more and more and I knew I had to just delete them off my camera once they were on my computer. But I never knew. I liked looking back at all my pictures and I didn’t always have my computer handy. However, I realized that I had one too many pictures of a certain British lad who I just happened to have a ridiculous and pathetic crush on.

The sun was beating against my shoulders and I was reveling in the warmth of the sun and the tan I was sure to get, when three girls – probably no more than thirteen – approached me.

“Excuse me,” one of them with insanely curly hair began in a very thick French accent, “Are you Camille Everett?” My chest tightened as I tried to come up with a pseudonym so I could pretend to not be me. This used to happen every now and then in LA, but not enough for me to really get angry with it. However, lately with my association with more than one celebrity, I wasn’t too excited to deal with people asking about James and Liam. The other two girls were nodding vigorously as they watched me, giggling, and seeming way too happy to see me.

“You love Liam Hawthorne,” one of the other girls with blonde hair and glasses said and my eyes widened.

“No, I don’t,” I stuttered out, realizing my mistake.

“So you are Camille Everett?” The first girl asked again.

“Yes.” The girls squealed and shuffled closer to me.

“Can we have a picture?” The girl with glasses said and pulled out her phone. I immediately recoiled at the sight of it.

“Why?”

“Because you are dating Liam Hawthorne and you are the sister of James Everett.” I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling and exhaling.

“I’m not dating Liam,” I assured them.

“That’s okay,” they brushed it off and inched closer.

“But I’ve done nothing. You know nothing about me other than that.”

“So?” I sighed again. I shouldn’t be as frustrated about this situation as I was.

“Alright, fine,” I said, giving in and they squealed, rushing around me, speaking giggly French to one another.

“One… two…” I quickly grinned, pretending to be happy that I was in this situation. Which I most definitely wasn’t. “Three!” The camera clicked and the girls rushed around it.