Free Catch a Falling Star by Unknown Page B

café,
    the one in front already shooting pictures of us.
    “Hi, Stan,” Adam said, leaning back in his chair and putting his
    glasses on again.
    “Adam,” he said, nodding casually as he took a few more pic-
    tures. “You care to comment on your relationship with” — he
    checked what looked like a napkin in his chest pocket — “Carter
    Moon. This her?” He frowned at me, clearly puzzled. I guess I
    should have brushed my hair.
    “We’re just hanging out, Stan. Her dad owns this café. They
    helped out with some crafty for the shoot.” Adam shot me a smile
    that suggested we were doing just a little bit more than hanging
    out. Even though I knew it was a fake look, it still caught me and I
    felt my cheeks warm. Stan took a few more pictures he could title
    Carter Moon blushing like an idiot.
    “How’d you meet?” chirped the smaller guy behind Stan. He
    wore a dirty mustard-colored trucker hat and a ratty T-shirt that
    might have once been black.
    Adam stood up, Parker a split second behind him. “I don’t
    know, George — how do people meet each other?” Cupping a
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    hand under my elbow, he led me toward the kitchen. “Nice seeing
    you boys.”
    We passed by a stunned Chloe as Dad held the kitchen door
    open for us. We hurried into the warm, sun-drenched space. I said
    a quick hello to Jones, the ex-con who’d been helping Dad out in
    the kitchen since I was a baby. He didn’t give Adam a second look,
    just kept prepping for tomorrow. Adam, though, gave a small jolt
    when he saw Jones, probably because Jones had more tattoos than
    half the NBA and a face that looked like it had been used as an
    ashtray. In truth, he was a huge softy and taught yoga at Juvenile
    Hall every Thursday, but Adam wouldn’t know that. On our way
    out, I gave Jones’s arm a little squeeze, and his smile softened the
    rough edges of his unshaven face.
    Outside, small crowds were forming — on the patio, in the
    two parking spots just outside the back door — mostly familiar
    faces, but also some clones of Stan and George. Raggedy guys,
    cameras dangling over stained T-shirts. My heart felt tight. How
    had it all happened so quickly?
    The black Range Rover zipped into one of our two parking

spots, nearly missing a squat photographer. In the driver’s side sat
    an enormous wrecking ball of a man who could only be described
    as some sort of Nordic god. He hopped out, surprisingly agile, to
    open the doors for Parker, Adam, and me.
    As Adam slipped into the backseat with me, he gave me a
    nudge. “You ready for this?”
    Something told me, suddenly, I was not.
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    The Nordic god dropped me off at home a few moments later,
    jumping out to open my door for me. Adam leaned over. “We’ll
    pick you up in the morning. Parker will text you the time.” The
    door slammed, and the Range Rover pulled away as quickly as it
    had arrived.
    Dazed, I looked around my neighborhood. My neighbor
    trimmed his roses in the warm evening light, a lawn mower buzzed
    somewhere in the distance, the smell of barbecue tinged the air.
    Nothing had changed.
    And everything had changed.
    For the next few weeks, I would be a self-absorbed movie star’s
    girlfriend. I sat down on the front steps of my house, my head spin-
    ning. A few minutes passed before I became aware of footsteps
    padding up the hill, the huffing sound of someone walking quickly
    in my direction.
    Chloe.
    “See, this is what I’m talking about,” she gasped before even
    reaching me, her short brown hair sticking out in tufts. She must
    have closed the café in record time. Either that, or Dad had let her
    go. Probably the latter. She stood in front of me, her hands on her
    hips. “One of those times a text is in order? Oh, guess what, Chloe?
    I’M DATING ADAM JAKES!!! All CAPS!”
    I smiled weakly up at her. “Nothing so far real y cal s for all caps.”
    “Not the point.”
    “It happened sort of fast.” From the angle where I was sitting,
    Chloe’s whole head was