Story Girl by Katherine Carlson Read Free Book Online Page A

copying the life they have. They think I’m just wasting my time here.”
    “Are you?” he asked.
    The light was changing angles, casting enticing shadows across his chest. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
    “So what do you like about being here?” he asked.
    I wanted to throw myself at him, and declare that the only thing I liked about being here was the fact that he was right here with me – but I chickened out at the last second.
    “I like the energy here, all the ambition and drive. I like to be around it, but I can’t really say that I have it myself.”
    An image of me scaling the wall of the William Morris Agency flashed through my head.
    “I don’t really believe that,” he said.
    Thoughts regarding my complete lack of success threatened to drown the sex hormones that were wildly raging.
    “But I do get it, Tracy. Sometimes I know that I don’t have the stamina for this place, but yet it’s the only place that feels like home. It’s the only place that makes me feel alive.”
    I pulled my knees up to my chin and hid my face from him.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Tell me.”
    “Do you ever feel like you’re just trying to stay afloat in a pool of self-absorption?”
    “What?”
    “What if we’re just splashing around in our own narcissism?”
    “Is that really how you feel?”
    “Not really.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yeah – I was just wondering.”
    “It’s not a crime to want to create stuff and express yourself.”
    “Have you written many scripts?” I asked.
    “A few. I made one short – it festival hopped for a couple of months. My dad ended up changing everything. Can you imagine? It was humiliating.”
    “So why did you let him?”
    “Because he funded the damn thing. So not only did it not really count in the first place, but my own words and ideas didn’teven make the final cut. It started out praising the values of the sixties and ended up warning against them.”
    “It counts, James – a lot of people here are launched by their families. Look at the Fondas and the Coppolas and the Bridges and the Douglas people and the Hiltons.” I wanted to bring up the Clooneys but couldn’t bring myself to do it, “The list is endless.”
    “The Hiltons? Great, now I feel much better about myself.”
    “Sorry.”
    “It still doesn’t count, Tracy. Not in a real sense – no matter how you try to justify it.”
    “Couldn’t have been that bad.”
    “Evil Terror Plot was the final title, about a misguided bleeding heart who thinks love is the answer – but later comes to his senses and learns the value of fear. Totally demoralizing.”
    “That really is a horrendous title – worse than some of my own. So what was the original title?”
    “Blaine Walker – about a bleeding heart who finally comes to his senses and discovers that love is the answer after years of drowning in bullshit muck.”
    “Yes, I’d say that’s an overhaul. Is your name attached as writer?”
    “No, thank God. My dad and his business partner took the credit. I got a DP nod just because most of the footage of Blaine Walker was already shot. A few voice-overs and inserts changed the whole thing. It’s only six minutes, Tracy.”
    “I’d love to see it.”
    “Never.”
    “Then don’t harass me about Space Boy.”
    “Fine.”
    “And don’t call me a writer – at least not yet. It’s bullshit.”
    Lucy snuggled herself into my lap, sensing that I was struggling to ward off a bout of depression. She was steadfast that way, always around when I felt most like a loser.
    “What’s in those boxes?” he asked.
    Damn. I’d almost forgotten about the four cardboard monstrosities that were stacked in the corner of the room.
    “Just nothing,” I said.
    “Can I take a peek?”
    “It’s just old junk.”
    “Then you won’t mind me looking.” He tossed a box lid across the room before I could stop him, and Lucy practically leapt through the air to get inside what had once