Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,9

with Madeline glued to Cam’s side, the sharp tongued vixen remained invisible. With the dwindling possibility of another Adley vs. Adley showdown, I had no interest in staying.

I considered finding the tart from earlier, but even the minimal effort of excusing my behavior wasn’t worth it. Setting my beer down, I slipped out the back and headed down the driveway. I slowed down, approaching the tall, iron gate that protected the famous director’s house. Apparently I wasn’t the only one making a getaway, although Adley’s reasons for escaping were slightly more legitimate than boredom.

She was staring up at the obstruction as if measuring her chances of scaling it.

The dry heat had forced her hair into a ponytail that sat high on her head, every shade of blonde imaginable swung down her back. Her gauzy cover-up didn’t do much to hinder the absolutely stunning view of the deep red swimming costume, nestling her pert ass. I had no problem identifying her physical appeal, even if I found her temperament lacking and unpleasant.

“This is called a gate.” I spoke as slowly as I was implying she was. “You press a button to open it… I’d heard the American education was bodgy, but I had no idea it was so crippling.”

She must have jumped a full kilometer in the air, surprised either by my presence or close proximity. A graceful hand clasped over her heart, and again, I couldn’t help but note her body’s finer attributes. It wasn’t that I found her face unattractive – far from it, in fact.

I could appreciate a painting without wanting to put it in my house. My preferences tended to sway a little more exotically. Adley was almost too pretty, her symmetrical features smoothed to the point of defying deeper beauty. There was nothing of interest about her face, nothing that was due a second glance.

“I had no idea how many celebrities got their jollies stalking the innocent,” she shot back, her reply an arrow arching through the air right at me.

“Says the girl who accused me being arrogant. What is it, exactly, that makes you worth stalking?”

She huffed, and crossed her arms over the chest I was already regretting my admiration of.

“Are you going to let me out or did you just come down here stare at me?”

An incredulous laugh bubbled from my lips. Was she serious? Like I would follow her down just to be blessed with such stunning charm. Yeah, right. I marched over to the keypad and fingered in the quick series of digits.

We stood in silence as the double gates swung open on either side of us, and I purposefully ignored the questioning looks she littered me with as we both exited, walking in the same direction. It was obvious Cam hadn’t mentioned to her that Georgia wasn’t the only production member sharing the neighborhood with him. While Georgia’s huge estate was custom built and one of the first in the area, Cam and I lived in the newer section, made up of nearly identical mini-mansions, all looking like they’d come from some variation of the same cookie cutter. Our matching houses were even on the same block, just a few homes down from each other.

I wasn’t about to explain myself to her. It was much too satisfying watching the worried gears spin in her head as she tried to figure out why I was seemingly following her back to Cam’s. I doubted she’d accuse me of trying to go home with her, when I’d already called her out for being conceited. Her pride wouldn’t let her. She had no choice, but to continue through the gated community like nothing was amiss.

For three whole minutes we walked in silence, but I could tell that was a real accomplishment for her. She didn’t seem like the type to let things sit on her mind for long.

“No one’s going to bother you? Not to inflate your ego further or anything, but aren’t you supposed to be famous? Shouldn’t there be fans and paparazzi hounding you at your every waking moment?”

A gruff noise came from the back of my throat.

“The paparazzi can’t legally get in here, not that it always stops them, but the guards here are good about keeping the community free of disturbances.”

“So you live here too,” her statement was spoken sensibly, as if she was just saying it for the sake of storing the information for later. She kicked a pebble as we kept pace together. The soft clicks on the pavement