Free A Little Less than Famous by Sara E. Santana

was already at Cal State Fullerton, studying speech therapy. She was the brain of the twosome and I went to school because it just seemed like the right thing to do. I pictured myself leaving the diner and all I could see was a haze in my future. There was nothing in this world that I was passionate about but reading and jazz and you couldn’t really make a career out either of those, unless you wrote and I was a terrible writer. However, the list so far was easy: fix my current GPA, keep my grades up, and consider my options. For now, these things were things I could handle.
     
    *               *               *               *               *               *
     
    Despite what I had said, despite the promises that I had made, I met up with Jake a few days later. He had an off day on the set and was heading out to Yorba Linda to visit his parents, who he hadn’t seen in a while. Yorba Linda was just ease of Brea, and he wondered if he could stop by and see me.
     
    I must’ve been crazy. Without pausing to think, without even realizing what I was doing, I typed out a yes response to him.
     
    We met up at a Starbucks. Jake showed up incredibly incognito, basketball shorts and a t-shirt, sunglasses on. He kept his head down while he ordered coffee. I watched from my seat by the window, as he dumped a ton of creamer into his coffee, two and a half packets of Splenda and then made his way over to me. I couldn’t help but notice a few heads turning as he walked by. It might have been because he had sunglasses on inside, but that probably wasn’t it. The guy was gorgeous. He had that super dark hair falling into his face, in that p erfect styled way, perfect blue eyes (though you couldn’t see them now). He obviously worked out; he had to look fit to play a badass cop on television. But it was more than that. It was the way he carried himself, so sure and confident, making his way through the room like he owned it.
     
    He came and stood next to me for a moment, a small smile curling up on his lips. God, those stupid lips. “So is there room for me?”
     
    I looked at the fairly big loveseat that I was sitting on. I was taking up most of the room, though there was definitely room for two. I pointed to the armchair directly across from me. “Right there.”
     
    He shrugged, good- naturedly, like he didn’t care either way.
     
    “So, why did you meet up with my anyway?” Jake said, glancing around the café. “You seemed pretty pissed the other night.”
     
    “I wasn’t pissed,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I was tired.”
     
    “Yeah, tired wasn’t exactly the emotion I was getting from you after that kiss.”
     
    I held my hand up. “Uh, no. No kiss. No talk of the kiss.”
     
    “Fine, fine,” Jake said, sounding bored. “Its easily forgettable.”
     
    I rolled my eyes, ignoring the stab. Especially since I knew, as much as he did, that it had been a great kiss. “ What about you ? Why are you hanging out with me? Besides the obvious.”
     
    “Oh, the obvious? What could you mean by that?” Jake said, mockingly, a grin on his face.
     
    “You are ridiculous,” I answered, shaking my head.
     
    His nonchalance, his acting as if he didn’t care where this was going was driving me insane. A few days ago, he’d acted like someone trying very hard to make an impression on me. Now, he seemed to be acting more like a person who wanted to get in my pants, who wanted to get in the pants of all the girls he met.
     
    “How many girls have you slept with?” I blurted out before I could think of what I was saying. I immediately took a sip of coffee, trying to cover up my ridiculous word vomit. 
     
    Jake paused before taking a swig from his own drink and looked over at me. I wish I could see his eyes; it was so hard to read what he was thinking or feeling. “Do you really want me to answer that question?”
     
    “I don’t know,” I