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an explanation or an excuse for her break, and I didn’t want to tell her that I was an actor. There were only two ways that girls responded . Either they would get that starry-eyed look (like Sophia), immediately inch ing closer to me . Or, and I felt like this was more devious , they would pretend that they weren’t interested in movies at all, like that was supposed to turn me on.
    I had an older sister who would sit and relay the plots of her favorite novels to me over morning coffee (unfortunately). The regular, everyday girl who landed the movie star/rock star/sensitive/ rich and famous guy always had absolutely no interest in fame or celebrity. She was usually some do-gooder that captured the attention of said celebrity , who was famous and yet remarkably normal, kind, chivalrous, and generous .
    This was slightly unrealistic. While I’m sure do-gooder girl existed somewhere, I had never met one like her.
    “Like, a gap year? Volunteer work or something?” she asks , looking at me dubiously.
    What the hell. Why not get it out of the way?
    I could figure out if she was from the hanger-on or do-gooder category . I’d be willing to place my bets on everyday girl with the heart of gold. I t would definitely disappoint me slightly if she pretended to have absolutely no interest in fame and fortune , though .
    “No, I was in LA shooting a movie. I have some press to do here, and then I have to get back to reading scripts and trying to figure out what my next project is.”
    “No way. You made a movie? That is the freaking coolest thing ever. ” Her eyes were suddenly alight with questions .
    Did she just say the word freaking? Not the anticipated reaction. Not at all.
    I laugh at the expression on her face. Her eyes were impossibly wide and blue. Still guarded, though.
    “A movie fan, huh?”
    She nods vigorously. “I’m kind of a pop culture junkie. I’ve loved movies since before I could even sit through them. My mom made me watch Gone with the Wind with her when I was three, and I kind of fell in love with the whole thing . I like stories, you know? It’s nice to escape and pretend that you’re a character in them. You can forget about everything else for a couple of hours and just imagine that you’re the one stuck in the middle of some impossible situation. I’m a total sucker for a good movie. ”
    “ Me, too. And it’s pretty freaking cool that I actually get to be the one in the story,” I admitted. I had definitely just used the word freaking. Her excitement was infectious. “I mean, it’s not as simple as all of that. The endless hours of having someone stick pins in you while trying to get your costume to fit right and the fifteen takes of a scene kind of take some of the magic away. But you do still get to be a part of it.”
    “Wow,” she says , leaning one cheek on her elbow and sipping her coffee, a dream in her eyes. “But you’ re not, like…” H er voice drifts off, and I can tell that she was thinking, “ famous. ”
    “Hardly.” I chuckle. “A lot of people think that you just wake up one day, and you’re famous. But it doesn’t work like that. At least, I don’t think it works like that.”
    “But you could be. You could have like, a limo, and there would be people following you around everywhere and girls throwing themselves at your feet, just to try to get a chance with the infamous Chris.”
    “I have to admit, that might be pretty cool.”
    “ Hell yes, that would be pretty cool. Tell me about the movie you’re in. I’ll have to go see it. I understand that this is probably your worst nightmare, being stuck with some crazy girl who’s basically obsessed with celebrities, but you’re trapped at least until you get your coffee. ”
    I let a long, loose laugh escape and she stares at me in surprise before joining me. “It’s not my worst nightmare. And I’m not stuck.”
    “Uh, huh.” She’s smirking. “Ok, go on.” She waves her hand at me , all traces