Ghosts (A Christian Yelich Story)

Chapter Six: 87 Peanut Butter M&Ms

I woke up at the break of dawn after a restless night of sleep. I turned to my other side to find Christian sitting up in bed on his phone quietly laughing to himself. "Where did you get that? Is there Internet?" I asked in a voice that was similar to an addict who spotted some heroin on the other side of the room.

Christian chuckled. "Eager much? And yeah, there's a free wireless network. They left our phones in a basket outside of the door at exactly 4:00 am. I almost stepped on them on my way to my bathroom, so not the greatest plan on their part."

He tossed my phone to me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. "It's about what . . . 10:30 pm in Los Angeles? People should still be awake."

"Yeah, people have been responding to my texts. You should be fine."

I looked at my iPhone to see a red bubble that declared I had 236 unread texts. "Are you kidding me? One night without a cell phone and this happens?"

"Are people missing you?" Christian asked, setting his own phone down on his side's nightstand.

"Probably not too much." I started glancing at my texts. Hannah, Lucy, my sister, a casting agent who has been hounding me to audition for a horror movie reboot, my brother, the software engineer from Tinder, my other brother, my mom, my dad, and a group text between me and a few cast members of an indie project I start filming in December. "I don't even know where to start."

"I'd just ignore everyone and come with me to the gym. Get a good workout in with my trainer."

"Your trainer came with you? That's pretty awesome," I responded. "Mine is on a well-deserved vacation."

"Yeah, I can't go two weeks without working out. I'd be feeling pretty rough come Spring Training, especially with the holidays coming up. Do you want to come with me? I'm not used to working out by myself. There's usually a group of guys around."

I thought about it for a second and quickly realized that going to the gym meant getting away for a while. The greater the distance between me and Asher, the better. I felt so uneasy around him. "Are you sure your trainer won't mind?"

"I'm positive. Take a little time to get caught up on texts and get ready. We'll leave at 7:30. I'll go grab us some nourishment, since I'm ready to go. They have a continental breakfast spread set up in the entrance. Anything specific you want?"

Why was this guy being so nice? Maybe I should get out of Los Angeles more often. "Um, a banana and some oatmeal if that's a possibility? A bunch of water? I'm more thirsty than hungry."

"You got it, but I'm also going to get you some protein too." He stood up, stretched for a moment, and went to grab breakfast – leaving me alone with my thoughts. And my mountain of texts.

I started with Hannah. I figured she had sent at least twenty-five percent of the missed messages. I wasn't wrong.

Hannah: Hey girl!

Hannah: Any hotties there in ghost palace?

Hannah: Need deets!

Hannah: The software engineer is getting old, right? And that one guy, what'shisface, who played that dude in Game of Thrones? He sucks. New is good.

Hannah: Spice up your life!

Hannah: No, really, how's it going?

Hannah: Did you die?

Hannah: Did I die?

Hannah: What's happening!

Hannah: WHO ARE YOU WITH!

Hannah: WHAT IS GOING ON!

Hannah: I hate this. I'm bored without you. Come back.

Hannah: I just ate 87 peanut butter M&Ms.

Hannah: I mixed them into a pint of chunky monkey Ben and Jerry's.

Hannah: I am the grossest without you.

Hannah: I love you. I need you.

Hannah continued to rant about men, food, and missing me. I skipped over most of it and typed out, "Hey! Sorry, we're not allowed to have our phones on us from 4:00 pm to 4:00 am. They literally lock them away from us, which is insane." I sent the text to let her know I was alive before typing out the next one.

"Asher is here. Please tell me you didn't know about this." I tapped the send button again.

"Also, my partner, a baseball player named Christian Yelich, is really nice. I'm trying not to think too hard about whether or not he's a hottie." Sent.

Hannah was already typing out a reply.

Hannah: OMG YOU ARE ALIVE

Hannah: OMG ASHER WTF, WHY IS HE THERE? HE'S WORTH LIKE $200 MILLION DOLLARS. I mean, no offense to you, but he definitely doesn't need the publicity. I mean, you barely do either. You just need to make friends, nerd! Practice for the red carpet, homie!

Hannah: Just ignore Asher. Have fun with this new Christian Yelich guy.

Hannah: I'm googling him.

Hannah: I'll answer my own question. HE'S A SUPER HOTTIE.

Hannah: IS HE LIKE NINE FEET TALL WITH THOSE LEGS?

Hannah: CAN YOU TELL HIM YOU HAVE A FRIEND? That friend is me. Hannah. Hello.

Hannah: HE LIVES IN MALIBU. YOU ARE BASICALLY NEIGHBORS.

Hannah: ASHER IS A SHRIMP. CHRISTIAN YELICH 4EVER.

Hannah: Seriously, he's so hot. And tall. And that dark hair.

Hannah: Are you interested in hooking up with him?

Hannah: You should be.

Hannah: Or you'll have so many regrets. I'd have empathy regrets for you.

Hannah: I am going to look at pictures of him forever.

Hannah: I suggest marriage, actually.

Hannah: Leave now and bring him home with you.

"I don't think a celebrity hookup or relationship is such a good idea right now, and I don't think he's interested in me anyway. He wants me to come to the gym with him for bro times. I'll let you know how it goes."

Hannah: I already know he wants you. I don't even need to know more than the fact he invited you to the gym.

Hannah: You're such an ignorant nut. I love you, but you're an acorn.

I was going to respond again, but Christian walked through the door with a tray filled with food. "Hungry much?" I asked with a smile.

"We're going to work out for two hours! I need to make sure we both eat enough." He handed me my banana before setting down the tray and passing me oatmeal, two hardboiled eggs, and water in bed.

"Thanks," I said. "You didn't have to bring me food."

"I wanted to." He shrugged and sat on the bed next to me. "Now eat up before my trainer and I put you to work."

"I think I can handle it," I mumbled before taking a bite of banana.