FanGirl by Angel Lawson Page B

Xavier! He’s all perfect, with perfect boy hair and perfect muscles. Plus, I’m a little mad about him getting the Wyatt part, so it would be really awkward and strange — beyond, you know, the general awkward and strangeness of kissing a guy you’ve never met, yet used to have posters of on your wall. Then there’s the fact it would be like a fake-fake kiss, since I’m holding a grudge for his casting.” I take a deep breath. “That’s it. I can’t go. I’m not ready for this level of moral dilemma.”
    Iris stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You’d consider giving this whole thing up because you’re afraid to fake-fake kiss Andrew Xavier? And because you’ve suddenly developed an irrational moral compass? Exactly how does kissing a hot actor for work make an ethical dilemma?”
    “It just does,” I say, completely serious. Kissing boys was more Iris’ sport than mine. I like to kiss boys, when I know them, not because they’re famous. Or have hot tattoos on their necks. Not for the first time, I think about how our roles should be reversed.
    “What else?”
    “What do you mean?” I flop back on the bed. The room is dark enough that it’s difficult to make out Iris’ features. I’m glad because it means she can’t see my face either.
    “What else are you afraid will happen?”
    “Failure. Mocking. Andrew Xavier,” I list. She settles down next to me. “The future, my parents, school, Gabe. General fears of making an ass out of myself.”
    “The plot thickens. I know you’re not the risk-taker type, and really, do you think I would encourage you to do this if you were horrible? I directed you in that video. I watched it a million times.” She rolls over and faces me. “You have what it takes. Will you get it? I have no idea. Depends on if they want one of those glamazons or not, but you have every right to be there if you want. Gabe asked you himself.”
    Iris and I have been best friends since our parents signed us up for a horrific year of gymnastics together when we were 6. She and I got into a scuffle waiting in line for the trampoline. To this day, she maintains that I cut in line. Likewise, I maintain she was a bossy brat. The result? One pulled pigtail and one kick in the shin. After being dragged from the gym floor, our mothers made us apologize and forced us into a play date. We’ve been BFFs ever since, but at any time I may kick her in the shin and she may pull my hair. It’s how we show affection. Her little speech kind of touches me.
    “Aww. You really do love me,” I say.
    “Shut up.”
    “You do.” I snuggle into the bed at little tighter. “I also think you lace your words with sleeping potion.”
    “It’s the voodoo,” she said in a clipped, island accent.
    I close my eyes. “Then cast a spell that I go in tomorrow, say all my lines, kiss Andrew Xavier on the lips, wow Gabe with my skills and become the most kick-ass zombie fighter in the history of zombie-fighting ass-kickers.”
    “Done.”
    g
    “You can go back,” Ashley says, pointing me down the hall away from the safety of Iris, the couch and the handful of other girls who have returned.
    “Ruby, wait!”
    I stop in the doorway and feel Iris’ fingers in my belt. “Take this.”
    She hangs a hatchet from my belt loop, a real one, just like Alexandra’s. The metal is heavy on my waist, but the twisted handle at the top hangs secure over the top.
    “Thanks,” I say.
    NAB isn’t here to escort me like last time. I reach the meeting room and the door swings open. Gabe steps into the hallway.
    “Hi,” he says, leaning against the wall.
    “Hey.”
    “Nervous?”
    “A little,” I hold up the script Ashley gave me when I arrived. He raises an eyebrow and I cave. “Okay, a lot.”
    “You’ve got this. You’ve channeled Alex before and nailed it.” His voice lowers. “I need you. Zocopalypse needs you. These other people will totally fuck up my vision.”
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