“I’d give one the time if he asked.”

There was a knock on the trailer door, and Aaron, the director’s fifteen-year-old son, poked his head in. “Can I get you anything, Lacey?”

I smiled. “I could use a cold bottle of water, please?”

“Lacey can get her own water,” Dad said.

“It’s okay. I’m here to help.” Aaron walked to the little fridge in the kitchen area. “I stocked your fridge with drinks this morning.” He pulled one out and handed it to me.

“You’re the sweetest. Thank you!”

He looked down, his cheeks going pink.

My phone buzzed on the table. We weren’t allowed phones on set, so there was a list of notifications from the day. I entered my passcode and quickly looked through my texts. They were mainly from Abby and other friends back home.

“Anything else?” Aaron asked from beside me.

“Oh, no. I’m good.” I held up my water. “Thank you.”

He nodded, then backed out of my trailer, shutting the door.

“When did you get a water fetcher?” Dad tugged on the leaf hanging off the stem of one of the roses my mom had sent over my first day of filming. Seven days later, they were now droopy and wilting. “I thought Faith was your assistant. You need two?”

I unscrewed the cap on my water bottle and took a sip. “Dad, Faith is the assistant director. And that was Remy’s son. Don’t call him a water fetcher. I think he wants to work on movies when he grows up.”

“So he gets your drinks?”

“No, he just kept following me around, asking me how he could help. I tried to tell him I didn’t need anything at first, but he seemed really sad about it. So I ask him for things now and again. It’s easier this way.” I set my water on the table and unlaced some ribbons from my hair, hanging them on a rack of clothes in the corner.

“I see,” Dad said, even though it didn’t seem like he understood at all. “So how did things go today? Do you want to quit yet?”

I scrunched my nose at him. “You will be the first to know if I ever want to quit. Try not to gloat too much if that happens.”

He put his hand on his chest as though deeply offended. “You know I would never gloat.”

“No, you’d just be so happy that your head might explode.”

“You know it’s not about me.”

“I know, I know. It’s about your deep concern for my fragile ego.”

“I just think there’s nothing wrong with being a kid before you have to grow up. This industry can do crazy things to people.”

“Those people don’t have you, Dad.” I wrapped him in a hug. The only one driving me crazy right now was him, but he was my dad, and I was pretty sure that’s what dads were supposed to do, so I’d forgive him for it. Not even my overbearing dad was going to take away the excitement of where I was and what I was doing.

His shoulders rose and fell again. “This is how you talk me into things.”

“Besides, I’m far from a kid.” I peeled up a corner of latex from my cheek and pulled it off slowly. “Daaadddd, help me! My face is falling off.”

“Did you seriously just do that after claiming you weren’t a kid?”

“You’re right. My timing was off.” I walked to the vanity and dropped the piece of latex there, then picked up a Q-tip and dipped it in some sort of magical makeup dissolving solution Leah had given me on day one. It made the fake skin come off easier.

“So I’ll see you back home at ten with a finished homework packet,” he said, his hand on the door now.

“Yep.”

He left the trailer with a click of the shutting door.

I sank down into a chair and immediately regretted it as the corset I wore dug into my hips and ribs. I stood and loosened it. The makeup I had to endure may have been atrocious, but the wardrobe was gorgeous. Historical zombies knew how to dress. I ran my hand down the tattered sleeve of the billowy blouse.

I threw my corset over the rack, then picked up my phone.

Abby answered after three rings, “Hey, movie star.”

“Hi! I got your one thousand texts today.”

“I know you said you can’t check during filming, but it’s just habit now.”

“I understand. I miss you too!”

“When do you get a break to come visit your not-so-cool Central Coast friends?”

I felt a twinge in my chest. There wasn’t a second that I regretted accepting the role of Scarlett, but it was hard not to feel a little homesick. I felt a million miles away from all my friends, who were doing all the things that we used to do together, like meeting up at the diner after school and planning our weekend. “My Central Coast friends are the coolest, but filming seems like it’s going to be pretty nonstop for the next few weeks. Especially since things aren’t going that well. Apparently Grant and I have lost our chemistry.”

“Why?”

“Probably because I look like maggot-eaten death most days.” I grabbed a wipe and began scrubbing at the residual makeup and adhesive on my skin. I’d need a long shower tonight. My hair, normally red and curly, was straight and streaked with dirt, making it look mostly brown.

“I still don’t understand why his character is supposed to want to kiss your character in that state.”

“Because true love transcends all. What you really should be worried about is why my character wants to kiss him. I’m a zombie. Sure, a partially cured zombie, but still, shouldn’t I just want to eat his brains? I guess things don’t have to make complete sense in movies.”

“It makes sense. True love really does transcend all. It’s kind of sweet, actually.”

I laughed. “Spoken like a woman in love. How is Cooper?”

“Amazing.”

“So the whole best-friends-turned-lovers thing is something you’d recommend, then?”

“Absolutely. Why? Do you have a best friend you’re looking to turn into more?”

“Ha! I have no friends. I just moved here, live with my single and very-much-out-of-the-social-scene dad, and am on a movie set every day.”

“I didn’t realize you were the only person acting in this movie.”

I pursed my lips. “You’re right. I’m being antisocial.”

“Which is very weird to me. You are the queen of parties here. You throw one for every occasion.”

I ran my hand along the clothes hanging on the rack as I walked by, feeling the silky material drift through my fingers.

“You still there?” Abby asked.

“I’m feeling a little pressure. This is such an amazing opportunity, and I’m terrified of messing it up.” It was the first time I’d admitted that out loud. This was probably why I was feeling off, why Remy felt no chemistry between Grant and me. I needed to relax. I breathed in and then out slowly.

“I’m sorry,” Abby said.

“Enough about me. How’s your art? Have you posted any more paintings online that I can drool over?” Abby was going to be a world-famous painter one day, I was sure of it.

“No. School is taking all my free time.”

“School is a poacher of time, that’s for sure. Speaking of, I have at least half of an independent study packet to complete by ten o’clock tonight. I better run.”