Free The Fifteenth Minute by Sarina Bowen

into my ear.
    “I’m in the ladies…”
    The door flies open in front of me, and a giant camera lens is shoved into my face. “Smile, Lianne.”
    I put my elbow in front of my face just as the shutter starts its machine-gun patter. I hear feet running toward us across the stone floors.
    “Hey!” a masculine voice cries out. “You can’t go in there!”
    The shutter whirrs. Paparazzi don’t care about the rules. They care about the shot and about their precious equipment. That’s it.
    “Step out or we will forcibly restrain you,” the voice warns.
    The clicking stops. I don’t drop my arm, though, because it’s probably just a pause.
    “Step out . I’m arming the taser.”
    Now that’s exciting. I’ve never seen a paparazzo tasered. I peek under the crook of my elbow to see what’s happening.
    The asshole has lowered his camera and is backing out of the room. “Don’t touch my camera,” he barks. “I always win my lawsuits.”
    A real charmer, my stalker. I recognize him, too. He’s the one they call Buzz. To go with their stupid jobs, paparazzi tend to have stupid nicknames.
    One of the policemen snaps handcuffs onto Buzz’s wrist. “You have the right to remain silent. You have the right…”
    “You cannot be serious,” Buzz argues. “It’s just a fucking picture.”
    “Step outside.”
    “You’ll see me again soon, Lianne!” the photographer calls over his shoulder.
    And I’m sure he’s right. The paparazzi are like roaches. Nothing stamps them out.
    They disappear, but the second officer stays with me. He’s an older man with a grey military cut and friendly eyes. “You okay?”
    “I’m fine,” I assure him. What I am is embarrassed . So much for blending in.
    “Good. I’m going to need your statement.”
    “Okay, but I really need to be in that lecture hall right now. Can I give it to you afterward? Please?”
    I have succeeded in looking sufficiently pitiful, because he caves. “All right. But come to the station right after class, you hear?” He hands me a business card with an address on it and sends me back to class.
    When I slink back into the room, a hundred pairs of eyes turn in my direction.
    “Is it safe to begin the lecture?” my professor asks from the podium, his voice bouncing off every mahogany surface and then right into my very soul.
    My head bobs with an awkward nod. “Must be a slow news day,” I mutter.
    Nobody laughs.
    Damn it . You only get one chance to make a first impression. There went mine.

    B y that evening , I’ve never been so happy to see the backside of a week in my life. Seven o’clock finds me lying on my bed in sweatpants, perusing the menu of a Thai restaurant that delivers. And because I’m a wild and crazy girl this semester, I’m considering ordering noodles instead of steamed veggies.
    A Hollywood girl knows how to live large, you feel me?
    Just as I considered this sacrilege, Bella taps on my door and then opens it. “Let’s go, Lianne! Hockey game starts in half an hour.”
    I’d forgotten about the hockey game I’d said I’d go to. “I’ll have to pass. I’m beat.”
    Bella makes the sound of a buzzer. “Brrrrrp! Sorry. You do not get to flake out on me here. I’ve been waiting all week to watch my team beat Saint B's and to show you the glory that is hockey. And I already got your ticket. So put your skinny ass in some jeans because I don’t want to miss the first faceoff.”
    “But I’m comfortable right now.” Damn it, I’m whining now.
    She lifts an eyebrow. “Did I mention they sell hot dogs and popcorn?”
    Hmm… That does sound promising. “Does the popcorn have butter?” Weirdly, millions of people have eaten popcorn while watching one of my movies. But I’d been dieting for so long that smelling it at a premier was as close as I’d come to the stuff.
    “Probably. Now hurry up.”
    Groaning, I get off the bed. “Remind me why I have to go with you?” It’s not like Bella had never been to a