Page 17

I can think of a few things, though I get the feeling they’re not what she has in mind. “Such as?”

“Such as . . .” She looks around, frowning, before snapping her fingers. “Let’s find a comedy to watch.”

I’m forced to wait to get my hands on this Victor asshole.

I have no idea who put the hit out on me.

More people could be after us.

But sure. A comedy will solve all problems.

The thing is, she’s only going to continue nagging and irritating me if she doesn’t get her way. What’s worse? Suffering through a corny movie or suffering through . . . her?

“Fine. Whatever.” I have to pretend the sight of her skipping back to the sofa doesn’t make me regret almost every choice I’ve made in the past twenty-four hours as I follow her.

If only I’d stayed in bed last night.

Chapter Seven

June

The good thing about my brain is that once I’m hooked on a book or movie, I can literally get lost in it. Halfway through Pretty Woman, I’m so enthralled by Julia Roberts and Richard Gere’s love story, I forget I’m currently on the run, hiding from some psycho who tried to kill me.

When they go out to dinner and Vivian inspects the forks like she has to solve an unsolvable math problem, I giggle. But when she accidentally yeets the escargot across the room into the waiter’s hand, I laugh so hard I snort. The snorting only makes me laugh louder, and soon I’m laughing so much I’m crying.

Wiping the tears away, I look over at Adrian, who is staring at me like I’ve grown horns.

“Come on, that was funny,” I say.

“Are you sure there was no other movie to watch?” he asks, stone-faced.

“You have no sense of humor,” I accuse. “This was the only somewhat-funny movie I could find.” And also the most romantic one, but I’m not going to admit that.

“If you say so,” Adrian murmurs.

We go back to watching the iconic story unfold, the sound of the film interrupted only by my occasional laughter and suppressed snorting.

As the movie comes to an end, my mind does what it always does when I watch or read something inspiring: A plot forms in my head. Characters and background stories come together as random scenes run through my brain.

I blurt out random words as I push myself off the couch to come to a stand. “Pen! Need. Paper. Now.” Frantically, I look around, scanning the space for something to use.

“Huh?” Adrian stares at me in confusion.

“Ugh. You’re useless!” I point my finger at him before speed walking across the living room to desperately find something to write on.

I dig through the drawer under the TV stand and find a stack of manuals. “That will do!” I grab the papers and continue my search for a pen.

With each passing moment, I become more agitated. “Is there no fucking pen in this place?”

“Here.” He pulls something from his pocket and hands it to me.

I grab the thick metal device and inspect it. “Why is it so heavy? What kind of pen is this supposed to be?”

“The tactical kind,” he explains like I should already know this.

“I have so many questions, but I don’t have time for those, so we’re gonna table that one for now.” I hurry across the space and take a seat at the kitchen table. Flipping through one of the manuals, I find a mostly empty page and start to write down everything that comes to mind.

Before I know it, the page is filled with names, descriptions, plot points, random quotes, and title ideas. For most people, this would be a bunch of nonsense, but for me it’s the beginning of a new universe.