---

I’m in over my head, but that’s how it’s always been with Hally.

“Good work today,” Stevens tells me as I unfasten the top button of my dress shirt, making my way off the set and toward my room.

I pause and glance up at him. He’s not a talker, like me in a lot of ways. “Thanks. I’ll be here all week,” I respond easily and with a bit of humor. I resume walking since he’s already looking back down at his schedule or lines or whatever’s in the stack of papers he’s holding.

I take a covert look around, searching for Hally, but not seeing her in the scattering of people. Filming’s almost over and a large number of people are gone. Still, a dozen or so always come to watch when we’re shooting and Hally’s usually one of them. My stride picks up speed and my gut churns, telling me something’s wrong when I don’t see her. She hasn’t missed a single shoot yet.

Ignoring the gut reaction, I keep moving to my room. I’m keeping to myself and making a beeline for my dressing room, not that anyone dares approach me. Hally may have taken me out of my shell a bit and thrown me off my game, but I’m still not the socializing type and everyone knows it.

Maybe she’s waiting for me. I know it’s wishful thinking, but even as I open the door to my room, I’m picturing her on my bed, waiting for me to lose myself in her.

A low groan of satisfaction rumbles from the back of my throat as I imagine her like she was the other night, laid out for me and bared to me in every way. I’ll never have my fill of her.

The memory vanishes as I take in my empty room and have to swallow the fact that she isn’t here; she wasn’t on set and I have no fucking clue where she is.

I don’t like it. It’s none of my damn business, but that’s the very reason I don’t like it. I don’t have a claim to her and the instability between us makes me cling to her … and usually her to me.

I’m quick as I unbutton the shirt completely, feeling suffocated by the crisp linen for the first time all day. I toss it carelessly on the floor and swing the door open on the armoire, looking for a plain cotton t-shirt and sweats to change into. I need a shower first though, something to relax me.

I need Hally.

It’s when I toss the change of clothes across the room and onto my bed that I see what’s changed in the dressing room.

Another article sits dead center on the coffee table. Right where Mark leaves my schedule every day.

I don’t give a shit what it’s about or what it says, since I’m sure Mark will tell me regardless, but the picture is enough to make me pick it up.

The memories come back to me as I stare down at an old picture of us, although I don’t know how they got it. It’s of us in school, in the cafeteria. Maybe a photo shoot from the yearbook, I don’t know. But she’s so happy sitting next to me. What’s more is the smile on my face. She made me so happy. No one can deny that.

---

---

“I’ll see you after class,” I tell Hally and kiss the side of her head quickly, letting her waist go and watching everyone else file into class.

I’m supposed to be down the east hall for gym, but I like walking her here to the north hall for her algebra class. It’s a little more time to hold her, to hear her babble about whatever’s on her mind. I don’t have to say shit; just being with her is enough to make her happy. And that alone makes me happy.

“I love you,” she tells me, gripping onto my one hand with both of hers.

I haven’t told her how I feel since that night, our first night.

I almost tell her I love her out of pure instinct, but it’s hard to say the words. They lose their meaning when you say it too much. If my parents’ split taught me anything, it’s just that. I won’t waste them in between classes and throw them around so easily. I’ll show her how I feel, that matters more anyway.

“You make me so happy,” I tell her and then feel like a dick. It’s the truth, but she wants more.

“Please,” she says and looks at me with a pleading expression in her eyes and I let out a sigh. “I just want to hear it,” she tells me. I hate the hurt look on her face.

I give her a smile, the one she wants and bend down close to her ear, brushing her hair away and whisper, “I love you.”

It makes her smile and then she gives me a quick peck on the cheek before running into her class. That’s enough to keep the trace of happiness on my face, but it’s not what I feel deep inside.

It’s like I’m pretending to be someone else when I’m with her.

The bell rings as the thought hits me, and I turn to find myself alone in the hallway and late for class.

This version of me is someone I want to be. Someone not afraid to tell her what she wants to hear. They’re just words anyway.

But it’s not who I really am.

---

“Finally,” I hear Mark before I see him, turning around with the article still in my hand. My heart races as if he’d caught me back then, lying to myself and to her and trying to be someone I wasn’t.

“We have to talk,” Mark says, shutting the door and I take the moment to release a breath I didn’t know I was holding and toss the article onto the desk.

“Have a seat,” Mark says and it catches me off guard. That sickness comes back to me as I pull out the chair from the vanity and he takes a seat opposite, dragging the chair for the desk over to me and quickly sitting down.

With his elbows on his knees and his fingers laced together, his thumbs tap against one another as he talks. It’s a nervous habit I’ve noticed he has.

“So, Harlow May,” he says, keeping his eyes on me and then swallowing.

“Just spit it out, Mark,” I tell him as I sit back casually, ignoring how my heart’s rhythm is fucked and every muscle in me wants to move. I stay perfectly still, expressionless. Giving him nothing and waiting for him to show his cards.

He can’t know the truth. No one else knows.

Unless she told someone and that’s why she’s gone. I choke on the thought, unable to breathe or move as my blood runs cold. She wouldn’t do that. I know my Hally; she wouldn’t. She can’t. It would ruin us both.

“So, you’re seeing her now?” he asks me and I hold his gaze, willing my body to do something. Letting myself entertain the idea that this line of questioning must mean she hasn’t told a soul.

I scratch a nonexistent itch at my jaw, stalling for time and debating on an answer. “We’re potentially rekindling an old relationship.” I keep it vague. I trust Mark, I do. But only so much.

“This relationship is causing a lot of questions,” Mark says and then visibly swallows. He’s antsy, fidgety.

“Like what?” I ask him without bothering to hide the irritation in my tone.

“Like why is she scared to talk about it?” he says low, his eyes darting between the floor beneath his feet and then back up to me.

I don’t answer him for a long moment and the tense air becomes suffocating. “It was one interview,” I tell him, like it’s annoying. Like there’s no truth to the perception that she’s afraid.

“I didn’t do anything to her,” I add and then look away, toward the door wanting to escape. It’s a lie. I didn’t help her; I left her, I ruined the beautiful spirit she had.

I knew better than to be with her back then, but it’s different now. Isn’t it?

“I wasn’t implying anything, Nate,” Mark says, raising both of his hands and with a look in his eyes that begs me to believe him. “It just looks bad.”

“What about now?” I raise my voice in frustration, shifting in my seat. “It’s obvious that things are good between us. We’re fine,” I tell him.

“It’s uncomfortable because you’re under scrutiny now, which is never a good thing unless you have a plan.”

“What’s that mean?” I ask, hating how he’s pussyfooting around. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Every second that passes makes my body hotter, my muscles wind tighter. It feels like they’re trying to take her away from me. I won’t let it happen. Not again.

“It may seem like the relationship is forced in some ways. Like you have something on her and you’re using that to your advantage.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” I spit at him, quickly standing from my seat and sending the chair backward, slamming into the vanity. And for the first time since I’ve met Mark, he’s quiet as he stares back at me.

“That’s what people are saying?” I practically yell at him, pacing in a small area of the room. “I would never use her.”

I start to defend us. I want to tell him that I love her and that she loves me. That she’s with me because she loves me, which is more than any other person has ever shown me in my entire life. She’s the only one.

“It’s just the worst possible scenario. That you got her the part for …” Mark doesn’t finish.

“It’s not true.”

“No one’s saying it is, and it’s important for you to believe me when I say that I believe you.” He holds my gaze, waiting for something from me, but my head is spinning, my hands are clenched and I feel like a caged animal.

I know better than to let my anger get the best of me, but I need her and I don’t have a damn clue where she is.

“Why? Why would anyone even think that?” I ask him although I didn’t mean to say the words out loud.

“The interview-”

“It was only one-” I interrupt but he’s quick to interrupt me right back, not letting me stop him from telling me the truth.

“And moments on the set. When the scenes are done and she looks less than comfortable.” He clears his throat and doesn’t ask me for an explanation.

I don’t have one that I can give him either.

It’s hard hiding a secret that’s damning. It’s even harder having a reminder. I know she thinks about it. I do too.

“What can we do?” I finally ask him. This mess needs to be cleaned up, fast and preferably via a new story in the papers.

“No one’s running with that idea yet, they’re all waiting for ammunition,” he tells me and I nod my head.

“She won’t give them any,” I tell him as if it’s a promise I can make.

“We have a meeting.”

“With who?” I ask defensively, ready to turn down whatever reporter has questions. I’ll tell them what Mark says they need to hear, but I won’t allow questions. They need to stay out of our business. And Hally needs coaching before she puts herself in that line of gunfire again.

“With Harlow and her agent,” Mark answers, rising from his seat. “I think it’s in your best interest,” he adds and motions toward the door.