Describing Him (Ansel Elgort)

3 // Like the writer

(A/N - Sorry this chapter is so short! The story does get better, believe me, and if you are reading this - THANK YOU SO MUCH!! It literally means the world to me. I started writing this because I couldn't find many really good Ansel Elgort fan fictions, so I decided to write one. Feel free to leave as much or little feedback as you like. Any questions or anything I'm willing to answer. Thanks a million.)

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Over the last week and a half, I wasn't really needed with the cast or crew, because the cast were either practicing some scenes or doing the work out routine, and the crew were discussing things in multiple meetings, some of which I was actually invited (overview: it was boring.) but I spent my days studying.

Today, though, they'd decided that they needed me or whatever, because I'd received a short phone call requesting me, and within forty minutes I find myself with the rest of the crew and cast. Eric, who had called me, beckons me over to him.

"This one's falling a bit behind on his lines," He says, pointing at the tall boy I met on the first day. "the others have learnt over half of their lines at the least, but he seems very busy because his last movie was just released and he's been having interviews and everything, and he's also a bit bummed out because he's missing the premiers. He just hasn't had as much time at home to practice as the others have, and no one here has the extra time needed to help him. Do you mind if you just run through some of the script with him and give him some advice or something? Thanks,"

"Yeah, no problem." I say, although it sounds like hard work.

"Hey," I say, approaching the boy. "Eric asked me to help you out. What'd you want help with?"

He looks up from his script at me, the lines of worry on his forehead disappearing. He smiles, his eyes lit up.

"Hey, you're that girl from the baby croissant table!" He says, ignoring my question.

"Yeah," I say, nodding. "Want some help with your lines?" I ask. He nods.

"It's scene five that's hard to remember. That's the one where Jacob loses interest in the whole partnership, and where he drifts away from Marley."

I took his copy of the script and read the first line.

"Jake, what is up with you? You haven't been returning my calls, you won't look at me in class, you're avoiding me in the hallways...I haven't talked to you since we caught up on Saturday night! Is there something wrong?"

He looks at me.

"Lila broke up with me." He says, with no emotion.

"Yes, I know, that was like, two weeks ago. Jacob, are you embarrassed?"

"I've had enough of this. Of all of this. It's what you want, Marley, not me. I don't wanna fight this unknown evil. I don't want to mess with this anymore. For God's sake, we don't even know what we're fighting! I just want to be a normal teenager who worries about their grades and goes to parties and stuff. I don't want any of this stupid shit. When will you wake up from this fantasy?"

Wow. I have to say it is quite amazing, watching the artist paint his picture. The way he said it all - it felt real, like he meant it. I'm taken aback.

He breaks out of character, screwing up his face.

"Line?" He squeaks.

"Speaking of them, you missed a few. Got them a bit muddled up. Like the line is actually 'Lila dumped me.' But you were about to say 'Go find yourself some other little 'partner' for your dumb investigations. I'm done."

"Right, and then I walk out," He says.

"Right."

And it went on like that for a bit, and then it was our lunch break. But I'm faced with a problem as soon as I grab the thermos out of my bag: who to sit next to. I normally buy my lunch and eat it in a cafe, but now watching everyone sit in little groups, chatting and eating, and anxiety burns in the pit of my stomach.

I think about sitting next to Caitlin, but she's having a big conversation with four boys I don't recognize, and by the looks of it it seems pretty entertaining but I have a feeling she wouldn't want to be disturbed.

So I sit down crossed-legged next to the boy I was just working with. He's sitting next to a young boy about his age, just having a friendly chat and munching on a sandwich.

He looks over at me and smiles, finishing chewing. Oh no, I think. He's going to politely try to fit awkward me in the conversation. At least he isn't ignoring me.

"Cory, this is..." He nods in my direction, swallowing a bite. He frowns. "I never caught your name."

"Margo," I say, my eyes holding his stare. I wonder if he'll know my name.

"Margo, like the writer?" He says, smiling and still looking into my eyes.

I laugh, a little too loudly, considering he obviously doesn't get it. I wonder how long it'll take him to figure it out.

"Yes, exactly like the writer." I say with a smile that I can not get of my face no matter how hard I try.

He gives me a confused look, and then takes another bite of his sandwich.

"I'm Ansel, and the quiet one's name is Cory," He says. Cory laughs.

"You are so going to regret calling me quiet later!" He said giving Ansel a shove. His lips formed into A Smile That Somewhat Resembled A Smirk But You Couldn't Quite Determine Whether It Was A Smirk Or A Smile.

"Is that pasta? That looks so good uhhhh," Says The Quiet One. "Makes my cheese and lettuce sandwich look pathetic."

"He speaks." Another shove. Ansel almost spits out his food. I laugh.

"Yeah, it's tuna peas and pesto. Want some?" I say, even though I really don't want him to have any. Cory's eyes light up, nodding. I hand him my thermos, hoping I'd actually get it back.

After a moment, I asked: "So, what is it that you two are doing later?"

The boys looked at each other. "Actually, we're having a sleepover."

I almost laugh in surprise. (It came out more of an ugly snort) "Sleepover?"

"Yes," Says Cory. (He looked amused, saying it so innocently)

"Why?"

Ansel shrugs. "Because we can. And because we wont have the time or energy to have one any closer to the filming."

I guess that's a fair enough point. It still feels a little bit childish to me, the idea of a sleepover. I hadn't had one since I was like, ten.

"Well, don't do anything too naughty," I say, thinking about all the trouble that Jacob and Asher get into on their sleepover.

Maybe that's one of the reasons they decided to have a sleepover. It only dawned on my just now that Cory must be playing Asher. I can see the resemblance now, the short thick dark hair, the bushy eyebrows.

"That's the whole point of a sleepover! To be naughty and make all kinds of trouble!" He is grinning. "It's like you've never been on a sleepover."

"Well I appreciate the invite but I have studying to do." I say, smirking. Cory and Ansel crack up.

"Damn. This girl really needs to come to our sleepover," Cory says, teasing.

I couldn't help the grin on my face and my blushed cheeks. It was a new feeling to me, whatever this was. It was as if they were including me in their friendship. I felt like I was a part of their mischief, and that they wanted me, not normal boring me, but fun, flirty, playful me. Which is weird, because I'm not a fun, flirty, playful person. I've never been very playful, and never flirty.

It's a side of me that I'd never seen before, a side of me I liked.