Free FanGirl by Angel Lawson

The minute he touches me all tender and hot, I’ll melt into the cab of the truck like a stupid little fangirl!” Before I chicken out or continue on a tirade directed at the dog, I hop up and dig the business card Nick gave me out of my pants pocket. Pushing James Brown over, I sit back on the bed and dial his office number.
    g
    Moon Pies are delicious . And gooey. I’m busy trying to lick the marshmallow off my fingers when the doorbell rings.
    I open the door and pull my thumb out of my mouth. “Um…”
    “Hey, Ruby.”
    Gabe Foster is at my house. Gabe Foster is at my house. Gabe Foster is at my house.
    “Sorry to show up like this but,” he narrows his eyes. “I think you have some chocolate or something right here,” he points to his cheek. Good grief.
    I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “Moon Pie,” I say through a mouthful of graham cracker deliciousness. I haven’t moved. Or said anything else. Gabe Foster is at my house.
    “Can I come in? Can we talk?”
    “Sure? Yeah. Yes.”
    I step back and allow him space in the door so he can come in the kitchen. I shut the door and face him. Gabe Foster is in my kitchen.
    “So, I’m sure you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
    “I thought you were in New York.”
    He rubs his hand through his hair. “Just flew in a couple hours ago. I probably smell like airplane.”
    “So,” I gesture to a chair at the kitchen table and sit down across from him.
    “Okay, well, I know you called Ashley and told her you didn’t want to audition. I’d like you to reconsider.”
    I shake my head. “I can’t. I can’t play Alex.” This was easier over the phone. “I don’t know. This isn’t me. I’m not an actress. I’ve got college and registration and dorms and all that. And Alexandra? Those are shoes I’m not sure I can fill.”
    He sighs and leans his elbows on the table. “I understand.”
    “You do?”
    “Yes. I mean, I want you to play this part. There’s something about you that feels right for this. You’re young and maybe a little naïve.”
    “Hey!” I interject, having heard enough about my maturity level today.
    “Hold on,” he raises his voice. “I’m trying to say, you’re young and naïve, but you also exhibit a kind of confidence and strength. All qualities Alex has. Not only that, you get it. You get her. I can trust you with the part.”
    Holy mother of all guilt trips. “I know you want this done right, but I don’t think I’m the right girl.”
    “How can you not be the right girl? You know everything about Alexandra. I’ve seen your blog posts, the discussions about the characters, the forum questions and tweets. I’m not sure there’s a fan out there who can help me get my vision across better than you.” He leans closer. “I’ve worked on parts of Zocopalypse since I was 14 years old. I can’t let this go to just anyone.”
    I realize Gabe basically wants me to take care of his baby. How can I say no? How can I say yes? “What if I do it and I’m terrible? What if I ruin Alex? What if I kill your baby?”
    “My what?” Can you hear eyes rolling? I swear I heard his roll out of his head and down the street. “Do you think I would let you do that? Just come in for the test. If things go badly, then at least you tried and you have a great story for your website, right?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Here’s the other thing. I hope this goes somewhere – the show, but how many zombie programs are there on TV?”
    “None.”
    “None,” he says. “It’s a crap shoot. The odds of us getting a slot in the fall lineup, even on cable, are slim.”  He’s right. The idea is ridiculous.
    “You’re telling me to do it because in all reality Zocopalypse , in television form, will never succeed?”
    He laughs, kind of nervous and tense. “I’m telling you that I’m taking this huge risk, putting my creation out there for the world to see and have it shot down before it even gets off the ground. I want you to be