Copyright © 2016 Jocelyn Shipley. All rights reserved.
“She blushes and can’t speak. Her friends urge her on. “Okay,” she finally says. “Here goes. Are you, um, are you Bo Blaketon?”
“Are you Bo Blaketon? You know, from Shatterproof?”
Whoa. How I wish I was.
I glance over at Lug. His eyebrows have shot way up and his mouth hangs wide open. He’s probably thinking what I am. This is too weird. Dakota said the same thing in the car.
“Yeah, I know that show,” I say. “But no, sorry. I’m not him.”
The girl tilts her head and squints at me. “Are you sure?”
I snort. “Last time I checked.”
“Oh come on,” she says. “You’re him. But don’t worry, we won’t invade your privacy.”
“No really, I’m not.”
She gives me a flirty smile and fluffs her hair. “I heard that Shatterproof is filming in North Van next week.”
“So that’s why you’re in town. And you’re from here, so it all makes perfect sense.”
“Well, it would if I was Bo Blaketon. But I’m not.”
The girl touches my arm gently. It feels like an electric shock. “It’s okay,” she says. “We won’t announce it to the whole world. But can you get me on your show?”
“So you are him!”
“No, I meant I can’t get you on that show. Because I’m not Bo Blaketon”
“Oh please?” She actually flutters her eyelashes and pouts her lips. “Just as an extra?”
“Hey,” Lug butts in. “He might be able to make that happen.”
I frown and shake my head at him. “What are you doing?”
“He-he,” Lug says. “Can’t blame these pretty things for trying.”
“But I’m not Bo Blaketon!”
They all stare at me like I’m lying.
“Let’s go.” I stride away. “This is ridiculous.”
The girl follows, her friends behind her. “Look, I’m sorry,” she says. “I should have respected your privacy. But can you please just sign my arm?” She pulls a purple marker out of her purse. “Then I promise I’ll leave you alone.”
She’s wearing a flowery shirt, open over a tank top. She slips one sleeve off. Thrusts her shoulder at me. Points at her bicep. “Here,” she says. “Please?” She hands me the marker.
I can’t not take it. And then I’m scrawling on her smooth skin: Bo B. It kind of looks like BoB, which makes me laugh. It’s a nervous laugh though. What was I thinking?
“Ohmigod!” She actually starts to cry. “Thank you so much!”
Her friends gather close to take pictures. Lug steps in and shields my face with his hand. “Ladies, please! Privacy!”
The girl wipes her tears and grabs her marker back. “If you change your mind about me being an extra, here’s my number.” She writes it on my hand.
“Sorry, but we have to go.” I pull Lug away with me.
The other girls call after us, “Hey Bo, come back! Sign us, too!”
I break into a run.”