Page 46 of A Summer of Stars

“On a red carpet talking to people that are nowhere near as entertaining as you.”

She laughed. A real laugh. I held my breath, expecting a cough to follow. “Will the beautiful girl be there?Luna?” There was an uptick in her voice. It was weird to hear her say that name, especially when it flowed so rhythmically with a Spanish accent.

“Yes, Ms. Aldridge will be here.”

“I sent you those photos, where you’re holding hands. Did you see them?” she asked. This woman didn’t give up.

“Of course, Abuela. But I don’t think you need to attach the same photo taken from ten different angles next time. I was there,” I explained. She shushed me. “I told you about the situation, though—this isn’t real.”

“You two look in love!”

“Yes, because it’s staged.”

“I don’t know. She looks awfully sexy in these photos.” Nari snickered

“Abuela, that word does not mean what you think it does.” I shook my head.

“Don’t tell me you don’t tell the stars about her, Alejandro?”

“Not this—”

She began to recite a story I had heard since I was a teenager, sitting me down and sharing it after catching me kissing a girl outside our house. “When I was young and first met your abuelo, I used to stay up late, staring at the stars in the sky, asking them what to do cada noche. I was in love with two men at the time, you know?”

“Ricardo, yes, Abuela, I remember.”

“Ah, Ricardo, that man was so handsome.”

“Yes I know, I know.”

“But then, the photo of your abuelo on my desk was taken by the wind, pulled right out my window. I ran outside to grab it, and there was your abuelo, standing at my door, the photo in his hand. It was asign, Alejandro,from the stars. The stars listened to me—they knew what to do.”

Nari tapped the time on her phone, her nostrils flared. She unlocked the car door—my last warning.

“Sí, I will let the stars know later. Te amo,” I told her.

“Te amo,” she replied warmly.

I followed Nari out, fixing my pant legs. A wave of voices, faces, and flashes came crashing toward me. I picked my hand up and waved, smiling.

The red carpet was a velvet path of crimson where heels and leather shoes stood, posing. The left side of the carpet was barricaded by fans and the city. Every actor from the film was here, some taking pictures, others signing books. On the right was a grand limestone building wrapped like a gift in a golden backdrop. It readSaving September, photographers focusing their attention there.

I could see some of my costars spread out across the carpet. But the director, Angela, and Eliza and Caleb were standing together, waving me over.

Nari walked in front of me, leading the way. Photographers shouted as I walked by, requesting for me to come back. I was interrupting everyone’s photos. She walked with determination, holding on to her access lanyard. I patted guys on the back, apologized to women I didn’t recognize, and laid a kiss on the cheek of the actor who played my best friend in the film.

Suddenly Nari’s footsteps halted.

“What—” I paused when I realized what had stopped her.

Right in our path was Luna Aldridge having her photo taken.

I could visualize the silent panic on Nari’s face. She couldn’t turn and formulate a plan of action—it’d look obvious.

I was on my own.

She walked forward, quickly moving behind Aldridge, out of the way, without drawing any attention.

With Nari gone, I could see all of Aldridge. She had this magnetic blue silk dress on. The dress wrapped around her neck andenveloped her figure, leaving her back exposed. The color complemented her shadowy eyes, and her dark hair swayed as she looked over her shoulder for the cameras. Something similar to want—no,need—crawled up my throat, convincing me I was bold enough to step right up to her and kiss her. Bold enough to take back my real last name and dye my hair back to black.