Free Emma hearts LA by Keris Stainton

of the paper and my second pet hate was aching hands caused by having to hold open a too-stiff spine.
    It is odd how I’ve pretty much stopped drawing altogether. I don’t even really know why I did. I know the art teacher knocked my confidence, but that shouldn’t have made me give up. I’m sure if someone told Bex she couldn’t act, she’d just be determined to prove them wrong, so why did I let myself give up so easily? I have no idea.
    I keep browsing and, around the next bookshelf, find Oscar. He’s looking at astronomy books.
    ‘Ah,’ I say. ‘You’re a Libra, I remember. Dreamy, cautious, gorgeous. Or was that gormless?’
    ‘First of all,’ he says, without looking round at me. ‘I’m a Leo – sexiest sign in the zodiac. Second of all, this is astronomy, not astrology.’
    ‘I know,’ I say. ‘I’m not a total dunce. What ya looking at these for?’ And then I suddenly remember and start to laugh. ‘No. Way.’
    ‘Yes way,’ he says, still without turning round, but I can see that the tops of his ears have gone red, so I know he’s blushing.
    ‘You still want to be an astronaut?’
    ‘I want to do something in that area, yes. Since you don’t know the difference between astronomy and astrology this bit of news may have passed you by, but the US doesn’t currently have a space programme.’
    ‘Right,’ I say. ‘I knew that.’ At least I think I did. ‘So what does that mean?’
    ‘It means that the job I planned to do – that I’ve dreamed of doing since I was a kid – is now quite unlikely to be possible. Here, at least. But there’s plenty of other stuff I can do and I intend to do it.’
    ‘So how do you…?’ I wave my hand vaguely at the bookshelves.
    Oscar knows what I mean. ‘Work really hard in maths and sciences and then, I don’t know, pray, cross my fingers…’
    ‘Wish on a star?’
    He grins. ‘That sounds like a plan.’
    ‘Excellent.’
    ‘You don’t really see so many stars in LA, though – too much light pollution.’
    ‘That’s ironic. Stars on the ground, but none in the sky.’
    He laughs. ‘I’m not going to bother making a wish on Alex Hall, if that’s what you mean. And I’m learning Russian – the Russian space programme is still healthy and being able to speak Russian would be a definite advantage.’
    ‘OK,’ I say. ‘That’s really cool. Say something in Russian.’
    ‘ Nyet ,’ he says, and I laugh.
    ‘You don’t think I’m like someone on The X Factor ?’ he says. ‘Kidding themselves?’
    ‘Well, I’m not going to lie to you. The idea of you being a spaceman makes me want to laugh. Quite a lot. But if that’s what you want to do, who am I to tell you you can’t?’
    ‘Indeed,’ he says, smiling. ‘Particularly since you know absolutely nothing about it. And it’s astronaut, not spaceman.’
    ‘I know,’ I say. ‘That one was just to wind you up. I think it’s cool, honestly.’
    Bex appears with an armful of books, including a biography of Alex Hall.
    ‘Seriously?’ I say. ‘Isn’t he about twenty? What’s he done?’
    ‘He’s nineteen,’ she says. ‘I think it’s mainly photos.’
    Fair enough. He’s certainly nice to look at. I follow her over to the desk so she can pay.
    As we’re waiting, I grab one of the notebooks – it has a vintage photo of the Venice Beach sign on the cover – and add it to Bex’s pile of books. I might not draw in it, but it’s good to know I’ll have a perfect book if I ever do get the urge.
     
    As we’re walking back along the Boardwalk, Oscar suddenly shouts something incomprehensible and darts off across some grass towards a skatepark. Bex and I just stand and watch him go, until he turns around, gestures at us to follow him and shouts, ‘Come on!’ We follow him.
    The skatepark is pretty cool. It’s not like the one near my old school, which is basically two inverted slabs of concrete; this one is sculptured. All hills and valleys and curves. If people