A guy pressed up against me, and he smiled apologetically. You know, like it was nothing. IT WAS NOT NOTHING! You can't just grind on someone, and then smile! What if that person was really a girl?! Like me?
Another teenage boy tried to squeeze himself into the same space I was in, and I was caught in the middle of a guy sandwich. They moved me right into a crowd of guys going to other way, and by the time I was safely out, I'd been grinded with at least ten times. That can't be right. Is that what guys do in same-sex boarding schools? Secretly press up against each other?
"Here you go," the bored-looking teacher guy said, as he lead me through some random shiny corridor - I'd lost count of how many left and right turns we'd taken, it was like a bloody maze. Well, apart from that, so far, what I'd seen of the school seemed alright - but it was totally massive. Completely different from my high school - you know, woody and ancient. This school was enormous and hi-tech, all chrome and glass, which was definitely intimidating. When I just There were at least fifteen science labs (for what, though? These kids sing and dance and act all day, when are they going to find time to do experiments?).
I looked out of the window, at the typical LA cloudless blue sky, and I tried to look calm. I mean, what was the point of taking acting if you couldn't even look confident?
"This is your room."
Room 13. Kind of prophetic, don't you think?
"How's my roommate?" I asked, my voice strained. Not because I felt awkward here (of course not, I'm an actor. I exude confidence. Definitely). It was sort of a mix between the fact that my bodice is slowing squeezing me to death, and the fact that my vocal coach had a British accent. Totally not helpful if you don't want to sound British, by the way.
"He drove out his last fifteen roommates, which is why he got to live alone for about two months."
I nodded, the only reaction I had to this information, and swung the door open. Whoa... It was gorgeous! It was an elegant clash of wood and glass - like it was out one of those interior design magazines every gets shoved through their door but can't be bothered to read. There was a massive main room, with two humongous beds and a flat screen TV and a leather sofa. God, it was beautiful
I was totally dismayed when the bored guy followed me. Do adults not know when to leave?
"That is your bathroom," he said, vaguely gesturing at a door. "That one is your bed." He pointed at the bed that wasn't littered with dirty clothes. "And that is your closet."
"Thank you, Mr, er..." I searched his chest for a little name tag, but he didn't have one. "Mister."
"Any time, Eric."
That's right. I chose the name Eric Miller, after my real name Erica Miller, because I'm imaginative like that. It's the very reason I'm a screenwriter, not an actor (note the sarcasm).
I settled down, dumping down my brown suitcase, the one I'd ditched my pretty pink one for. I lay down on my bed, testing its springiness. It was way too hard - and I was the kind of person who couldn't fall asleep without a really soft bed.
But my roommate's, on the other hand...
I sat on it, and I sunk in about ten inches. I couldn't help but lie down and let my eyes glaze over, even though his ceiling was plastered with a semi-naked Megan Fox poster. It was Memory Foam...now this was pure heaven.
"What the fuck are you doing on my bed?"
I jumped up, scattering dirty (ew) clothes everywhere.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -" In my spaz attack, I completely forgot to disguise my voice (a mark of a bad actor - you should never come out of character until the director yells "Cut!") and it came out in a blurred girly squeak. Then, as I looked into my roommate's blue eyes, half-covered with his blond fringe, I noticed three things:
1. The guy, my roommate, was Daniel Smith. The hottest young actor in the world right now, and possible ever.
2. He had just come out of the shower, and was completely and utterly naked. And wet.
3. He was looking at me in a way that suggested that we might never get along.
"Get out of my bed. NOW!" he yelled, his face twisted in disgust.
I complied.
Now I was safely out of his bed, he was calming down, but wasn't any less naked. And wet. So I averted my eyes, staring pointedly at Miss Fox, who was pouting slightly. Though I was acting all calm and focused on the outside, the inside was a massive star-crazed blur. OH MY GOD! DANIEL SMITH! DANIEL SMITH!! This was the guy who starred in all three of my favorite movies, and could act anything - a totally sweet love-struck guy, to a super action-hero that would have kicked even the Terminator's ass. He was my idol.
I bet I wasn't his right now.
"What were you doing in my bed?" he asked, his voice seething. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. What excuse would be good enough...? "Oh God, you aren't one of those crazy fans, are you?"
"No..." I said. I couldn't even convince my self. Those thousands of dollars I spent of acting classes weren't wasted, then.
"Wait...Are you a girl?"
My mind froze in shock for a moment.
Oh my god, how did he know...? How the hell did he - My heart leapt out of my chest, and I could hear each pound of blood rushing through my veins, and my head spun. What am I going to do? My career was over, I was going to have to go back to my stupid Ben-less apartment, with no job, and live the rest of my life an old spinster. With no job.
"No!" I said. I sounded sure this time - but only because I was so desperate.
He walked towards me, and I struggled to keep my eyes to his face. In the end, I gave in. Here he was - Daniel Smith, and his eight-pack that was only hinted at in the movie Kiss Paradise, was now in front of me, all six foot of his lovely statuesque tanned body, in only a soft, fluffy white towel.
God, what was happening to me? Just because Ben left me didn't mean I should throw myself at every guy I meet! What happened to Christianity? What happened to no sex before marriage?
He tilted my head towards his using only the tip of his finger. I could feel my cheeks warming, and I knew I was red right now. I hated it when I blushed because only my cheeks turned red, and it made me look like one of those stupid china dolls.
His gaze was piercing, but completely neutral. I couldn't tell if he was feeling it too - the heat between our too bodies, the tip of his finger that tingled with electricity, the place were we were touching completely setting me on fire, oh my GOD, my heart was pumping double time, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't -
"You look like a girl," he said, indifferently, turning away. My face felt hot.
Damn actors. That was their problem - they were way too good at acting. Never date an actor, my big sister used to say. Kind of hypocritical, since she ended up marrying one. It's still true though, since she divorced his cheating ass a year later, and I got my heart broken by an actor, the one guy I'd ever dated.
"You're face is really feminine."
I blushed even deeper. It might have been an insult, but it felt like a compliment to me.
"Class starts tomorrow," he said, his voice bored. "Your timetable and stuff is on your bed. You can't sit next to me or talk to me or mention to anyone you know me, or I will kick you out of this room."
"You can do that?" I blurted out, my voice strained, and kind of British.
He turned back to look at me, leaning on the bathroom's door. He smirked.
"Of course I can. I'm Daniel Smith."
And he walked into the bathroom and barricaded the door. Cocky bastard.
***
Author's Note: Woohoo chapter two!!! Really glad you guys stuck around for this chapter XxX
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