The Scene Stealer: A Hollywood Romance

But the day the moving truck pulled into the driveway, a bouncing ponytail of curls made its way toward me and enveloped my body in a hug so tight I was scared that I was being kidnapped. A boy about a foot taller than me had shown up moments later and pried the girl’s arms off my body, and I gasped for air as he stood there with narrowed eyes. Izzy had introduced herself as I was held captive by the boy’s eyes, and then she explained that his name was Trevor. I had rolled his name around in my head a few times and decided that it matched his appearance. He was equally mysterious and alluring. And at thirteen, I instantly developed my first real crush as my heart pitter-pattered in my chest beneath his gaze.

Izzy and I had been inseparable as teenagers, though we were nothing alike in looks or personality except for our blonde hair. She was the head cheerleader while I had been the president of the drama club. But our friendship never wavered.

The moment my gaze came across the picture in my closet, I knew I could take the next month away from LA and go back home. I hadn’t seen Izzy since her last trip out during the summer, and that had been almost a year ago. It had been too long.

Veering back onto the highway, my phone chimes with an incoming call. As if knowing I was thinking about her, Izzy’s voice echoes in the car as I connect the call through the stereo. My car is too old for one of those new Bluetooth setups, much to my agent’s dismay, but I can still talk handsfree with a bit of wiring work.

“Are you here yet?” Izzy cries out.

“No, not yet. I’m like an hour outside of Houston,” I claim, peering at the green sign as I pass.

“I can’t believe you’ve driven the whole way. That’s like a hundred hours.”

“Twenty-one to be exact, but you know I’m used to going on very little sleep.”

“I just can’t wait for you to get here. An entire month with my bestie. And I have a surprise planned.”

Oh no. I hated Izzy’s surprises. First it was letting her choose my high school schedule. Art class and I did not mix. Then I let her choose our prom dresses. Chartreuse looked great on her tan skin, not so much on my porcelain coloring. Finally, she surprised me with a graduation party at my house when my parents were away at a medical convention. You can imagine when little loner me walked into a party and no one knew who I was. And in typical fashion, my parents came home a day early from the convention to find me and Izzy passed out on the couch.

“Izzy, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. You remember what happened last time.” That very night is the reason I haven’t touched an ounce of alcohol in six years. It was also the night that solidified my move away from Dale City. Two weeks later, I up and left without so much as a goodbye to my best friend.

“It’s going to be fine, Quinn. Don’t be a party pooper. You’re only young once.”

A tractor trailer honks as he passes, and I return my focus to the road in front of me instead of on my growing anxiety.

“Izzy, I need to go. I’ll be there soon.”

An hour later, I pull off the highway and make my way toward home. The strip malls closest to the highway give way to the sidewalk-lined neighborhoods of Dale City. The town is big enough to get lost in but small enough that most people know who you are in some fashion. Both a blessing and a curse.

I drive up to a small white ranch-style home, a complete contrast to my loud and outspoken best friend. Glancing down at my phone, I verify that I have the correct address before I turn off the car.

Here we go.

Stepping out of the car, I let the humid heat move over me. Summer in Texas is no joke, the sweat is already beading on the back of my neck causing the fine hairs to curl on their ends. Moving around toward the back of the car, I pull out the duffel bag I stuffed there in my hasty retreat to leave LA, and also snag the few copies of the script I need to work on while I take this mini vacation.

Suddenly I feel a pair of eyes on me, but as I look around the neighborhood, I don’t find anyone openly gazing at me. Shrugging the duffel bag higher on my shoulder, I lock my car and make my way to the front door.

My hand is poised at the door, anticipating knocking, when it swings open widely and I find myself crushed by two thin arms wrapped around me. The hug reminds me of the first time I met Izzy, and I can’t help returning the gesture.

“I can’t believe you’re here! I never thought you’d come back to Dale City, especially since you’re this ‘world-famous actress’ now,” she air quotes, giving me a small reprieve to breathe.

I blush from her compliment. She’s not incorrect. I had very little intention of ever returning to the town that rarely paid me any attention.

“Come on, I have your room ready,” she instructs as she tugs me i

nto her house.

My eyes roam the space, the neutral décor giving way to pops of color. This is the Izzy I had come to love like a sister. She is equally calm as she is spunky.

“We’ll grab the rest of your bags later. Right now I want to catch up,” she adds as she opens a door to a small guest room. The walls are a subtle blue, almost gray in tint. A bed sits between two windows overlooking the backyard, covered in a blue paisley duvet.

I slide my duffel from my arm and place it on the bed, then rifle around for a pair of yoga shorts. My current shorts have dried, but now they’re itchy and uncomfortable.

“I’m going to change really quick. My shorts are feeling funny since I spilled a water bottle on them earlier.”

“Sure, the bathroom is down the hall to the left.”

“Thanks.”