little more messy and confusing and you can’t necessarily plot it out with Save the Cat.”
“Do I really talk about Save the Cat that much? It’s just that it’s a great book and—”
Chloe holds up a hand. “Not helping. Just . . . I hope you’re able to open yourself up a little bit. This isn’t a sad rom-com montage, because you’re not a sad, lonely person. You always have me and Don, no matter what, because we’re not going anywhere.”
“Aw, shucks,” I mutter, looking at my feet on the sofa.
Don walks back in, dripping wet. “Well, it started raining and now the costume’s soaked, so we’re gonna smell like wet Wookiee all the way to Chicago.”
Chloe looks at me and I look at her and we both burst out laughing.
Don’s costume drips onto the living room floor as he looks at us, bewildered. “What? Did I say something funny?”
So it’s not like I’m going to listen to Chloe and attempt to hook up with Drew before he heads off to New York, but maybe she’s right about one thing. I might be lonely once in a while, but I’m definitely not alone.
Chapter Sixteen
I am, however, alone when I wake up on Friday morning. Uncle Don left way before the crack of dawn, and although it’s not like we always have conversations in the morning or anything, the house is strangely silent knowing I’m the only person in it.
I shuffle around the kitchen, grabbing an apple and thinking about how quiet it is here. When my mom was alive, there was always music playing or her off-tune humming or her laughter ringing through the house.
I know Chloe was right when she said that I wasn’t alone, but I hate this. This quiet. This solitude. I let my thoughts stray to what would happen if I didn’t live here anymore, if I moved to some other city or even some other house . . .
But no. Then Uncle Don would be by himself, rattling around in these empty rooms, and what way would that be to treat the man who dropped everything in his life to take care of me?
I crunch into my apple and think about it. Maybe I can’t leave or make a big change, but could I make a small one? I wouldn’t ever go off to LA or New York, but I could take Drew at his word—maybe he really could take a look at my screenplay, unfinished as it is. Sure, he’s not a writer, but he’s had a whole lot more experience in movies than I have.
See? I say to Chloe in my head. I’m not afraid of change or rejection. Look at me, asking change to come into my life! Courting rejection! Taking chances!
I toss my apple core into the garbage can and head off to set.
* * *
• • •
We’re even busier and more frantic than usual, since Tommy is trying to cram a lot into one day. It’s not the last day of shooting, since some of that will take place in other locations, but it is the last day of shooting here in German Village. I’m so busy running around and grabbing things for Tommy that I can barely even think, let alone focus on Drew.
At one point, Carter catches my eye from across the street. He waves and gives me a tiny smile before turning to do whatever it is he does. I never one hundred percent figured out what his job entails, which might make me a bad person, but that was probably a sign that we weren’t meant to be. It still stings just a little bit to see him, though, like lemon juice on a paper cut.
The last scene we film isn’t even an exciting one; it’s some conversation between Tarah and Drew on the sidewalk, and I watch it, watch him lean toward her and watch her smile up at him, and wonder.
And then, all of a sudden, it’s over. People clap and pack things up and I help Tommy with a million things. He grabs his beloved megaphone and yells, “Seven P.M.! We’re going to Victory’s, and we’re celebrating a job well done! If you can hear me, you’re invited. Well, not you.” He points to a person across the street. “But everyone else.”
“Are you going to be there tonight?” Tarah asks me, stopping me before I head off to Nick’s.
I nod. “Yeah, I think so.” My breath puffs out into clouds; even though it