She was silent for a while, looking up at me every now and then, reaching out whenever she needed another cup of water. She looked like she was about to drift into a deep sleep, but she began to cry.
“I was the new Reese Witherspoon. Did you know that?” she wailed. “Have you ever seen Sweet Home Alabama?”
“Is it a TV show or something?”
“It’s a romantic comedy…They were going to re-make it, but they were going to change a few things and call it Sweet Tennessee. I didn’t even have to audition for it! They handpicked me! But then…they replaced me because they wanted to start filming next month and I told them I couldn’t come.”
“Maybe it’s for the best.”
“It’s karma! And I deserve every last drop!” she slumped off the bench. “I’ve done some really horrible things. Some really really horrible things.”
They can’t be that bad…
I pulled her back up. “Like what?”
“I slept with a married man, a married man! He had kids…and a wife! I didn’t know he was married at first though, I swear. He left that part out!”
She bent over and let out more puke. “I got left at the altar and twisted the publicity in my favor…I cut my own mother off for four years, my own mom…I was a bitch to all my fans—I showed up to perfume signings and refused to sign anything, even though they’d been waiting outside for hours…And this one time, at a movie premiere, this girl won a contest to meet me. She told me she drove like eleven hours from her college just to come, and I didn’t even let her take a picture with me…because her shoes were scuffed…And on top of all that, everyone in America hates me right now because they think I’m a home-wrecker!”
“I just wanted somebody to love me back,” she cried. “Is that too much to ask for? Is it too much for someone to actually want me? For someone to actually give a damn?”
Why am I still sitting here? Why haven’t I run away yet? This is A LOT of emotional baggage…
“Um no…It’s not,” I took off my shirt and wiped her face with it. “You should probably try to—”
“Do you know I have to buy my own flowers? That’s how pathetic I am…I’m a celebrity and I have to buy my own flowers whenever I date someone…”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you mean by that…Your own flowers?”
She nodded. “I always made a point to tell every guy I dated that I really liked flowers. A lot. I specifically said, no sonata lilies—I tell the press those are my favorites, but that’s not really true…I like daffodils, irises, tulips, and rare breeds of roses…I would say ‘I would love to have flowers waiting for me in my dressing room, or in my apartment when I get home for the day, or…anywhere. I want to feel special just like the characters I play in my movies’…And no one ever bought them for me. No one.”
“So you bought them yourself?”
“Yes,” she choked up. “And I would write out a note like the guy had sent them to me, just in case someone happened to get curious and look at the tag…I had some sent every time I did an interview, every time I started a new film project or TV episode, and every time I attended a movie premiere…Do you know how many flowers that is?”
I shook my head.
“It’s a lot of f**king flowers! I have a preferred customer card from a florist, a florist! That’s the main reason why I canceled on you. I’m tired of buying my own flowers, I’m tired of being lied to, and I want to take things extremely slow…You’re sexy and all, but I know you’re just another guy waiting in line to hurt me. You’ll use me and leave, just like the others.”
I highly doubt that…
“Selena, I would never—”
“Didn’t you hear all those things I told you?” she shook her head. “All those things I did? I’m not a good person!”
“Hush, Selena. You’re drunk.”
Extremely drunk, yet still really gorgeous. That’s a first…
“I’m not drunk,” she struggled to sit up. “I just don’t feel well. Can you wipe my face again?”
“Sure,” I leaned over to wipe her face but she vomited on my hands as soon as I touched her.
“I swear I didn’t mean to do that…”
I sighed. “I’ll go get some towels.”
Chapter 15
Selena
I opened my eyes and realized I was lying on a bench on Main Street. There were no cars whirring down the road and no business’ lights were on. I could hear a soft wind whipping against the lamp posts every now and then, but everything else was silent.
What time is it?
“Are you feeling any better? Are you able to sit up?” Ethan smiled at me and waved his fingers in front of my face.
How long have I been laying here? How long has he been watching me? And why is he so damn attractive?
I didn’t want to get up. I wanted to lay there and look at him until I fell asleep again.
“I um…Yes,” I slowly sat up.
I wasn’t sure why he was only wearing a muscle shirt, but I tried my best not to stare. It was clear he worked out. Crystal clear.
His broad shoulders gave way to chiseled chest muscles that I could easily see through his thin white shirt.