“To be fair, we’ve not really been anywhere yet. You might get noticed here. This beach isn’t home.”
Although it very much feels like it is.
“That’s part of the reason I took a night flight and came back earlier than planned. Everyone thinks I’m in LA.”
Everyone, I assume, is the media.
“You were probably spotted at the airport.”
He shrugs. “I’ve not heard anything yet.”
Neither have I, to be fair, and I look a lot.
“Did you get stopped often over there?”
“It wasn’t too bad in the beginning but the more coverage the movie got, and the more I was spotted with Ella…”
I really, really want to hate her.
“That’s so crazy. My little Spencer Lowe, all famous.”
“If you could never use ‘little’ again to describe me, that would be great. Let’s go in here,” he says as the sky turns grey.
We walk into one of the largest arcades on the street. There are a lot of families playing different games, and few couples paying more attention to each other’s mouths than the penny machines.
I do hate them.
“What do you want me to win you? A unicorn?”
“Do I look like a unicorn person?”
He smirks. “Cheap tat in arcades, Indie. There’s nothing in here worthy of you.”
“Smooth.” I nudge his arm. “Win me a Disney princess so I can stick needles in it. Get my revenge for her perfect life.”
“Princesses have perfect lives?”
“They marry princes, live in castles, have libraries, and animals clean for them.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “That’s the dream then? Damn, I cannot compete.”
He wants to?
“Sorry, buddy, I’m holding out for a prince.”
“Who has a library as well as that Doctor Doolittle shit going on.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard, right?”
“Man, all I have is a car and an old Tamagotchi that is definitely dead now.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls a twenty out. “Better change this for some coins. Which princess should I win a full-grown woman?”
“I don’t care. I hate them all.”
“Glad I’m wasting money on it then.”
He slides the note into the machine, and it sucks it in. Twenty pound coins fall from the bottom with an obnoxiously loud jingle.
“Wasting money? You’re rich now.”
“I wasted money on shit arcade toys for you before I had money.”
“Such a fool.”
“Remind me why I like you?” he says, scooping the coins into his hand.
“Because I’m kind of awesome.”
“Ah, that’s it.”
I follow him back to the princesses stuck inside a glass box. Spencer shoves a pound into the machine, and the control buttons illuminate. I lean on the glass and watch as his eyes narrow a fraction. His lips purse just enough that I notice. He’s concentrating.
“Oh, you’ve overshot that,” I tease as he taps the button to send the claw grabbing.
Green eyes slide to mine. “Do you want to do this?”
I shake my head. It’s much more fun watching him.
Spence looks back to see the claw releasing nothing. He straightens his back, and I know it’s on. This man will now spend every penny he owns so that an arcade machine doesn’t get one over on him.
“You know a lot of celebrities live in London.”
“The daily commute to LA would be a bitch.”
I roll my eyes. “I mean, if you want to live where famous people live. Lots of them have houses in London. You could still rent in LA when you needed to be there.”
London is only an hour away. I would still get to see him.
“Why do I need to live where famous people live?”
“Isn’t that what happens?”
The claw drops nothing again, and he turns to me. “I don’t want to live in London.”
So, we’re staying a day away then. “They have a big M&M store there.”
“Well, that settles it…”
“I’m being serious, Spence. Where are you going to live?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t finished with the first job yet, and there might be another coming up soon.”
“You have an audition or an offer?”
“I had a producer ask Denny to get me to the audition.”
My heart constricts. “Sounds like they really want you.”
“Sounds like they want to know if I’ll be any good in this role.”
“You will be.”
He shrugs. “I’ll find out soon.”
My smile is probably a grimace. “Great.”
“I’ll be around, Indie. My permanent address is still my parents’.”
He’s not sure where he wants to be. The tightening in his shoulders and my stomach proves that we both know where he’ll end up: LA.
I’m stupid to even think that I can keep him indefinitely. Spencer is quickly outgrowing our hometown, as well as our friendship inside the little bubble we created. The bubble has popped, and he’s escaped to bloody Hollywood.
“You know, if you miss me, you could come out there more often.” He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, but there’s a sadness to his voice like he can’t understand why I haven’t ever done that. We both know he would buy me a plane ticket in a heartbeat, and I would stay at his apartment. That’s not the point. I’m in too deep at uni, desperate to get the best grades so that I can score a great job, move out, and make sure I never have to return. I don’t spend my half term breaks having fun. I spend them at the library with my nose in textbooks.
I can’t be one of those kids who return home after getting knocked on their arse in the big world. It’s not an option for me. This has to work.
At the same time, I’m scared to leave.
Who will check my parents? Roll them onto their sides so they don’t choke on their own vomit?
Fucked. Up.
I wish I could run away with Spencer. He would have me. He would also want to know why I was leaving.
I’ve read the books; I fully understand that I shouldn’t feel ashamed for not being enough for my parents. Saying aloud that my own mum and dad would rather drink themselves to death than parent me isn’t happening. It’s easier to keep those realities in
