Aim High, Never Rest

I woke up to the harsh glare of unfiltered sunlight and the sound of traffic on the streets below. As my eyes adjusted to the light and the flawless blue sky above, I stretched out my legs, my back popping in the motion. The thin quilt beneath us hadn’t provided much of a barrier from the rooftop, and concrete wasn’t a forgiving mattress. I could feel the soreness in my neck and shoulders as my hand fumbled around for my cell phone, and through squinted brown eyes, I tried to make out the time.

It was 9:15, more than an hour after I was supposed to be in my first class of the day. I stole a glance over to Logan, who was still asleep, his lips slightly parted as he hugged his knees against his stomach. Apparently I’d managed to hog every inch of the sole blanket we’d brought up to myself, and I tried to make up for it, lazily tossing half of the cover over his legs. Though I felt like every muscle in my body was sore, I still couldn’t muster up the motivation to sit up. It felt like just raking my hand through the loose strands of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail zapped every ounce of energy I had.

I hadn’t exactly planned on falling asleep up there, but what had started out as just me gushing every single detail out about my first day on set to Logan had diverged into hours of conversation. We seemed to talk about the stupidest of things, like Logan’s family back home, what products James used for his hair (I had to know), and how we both felt like everyone around us had lost their mind. We talked until I didn’t feel like moving, until my eyelids felt too heavy and the words coming out of my mouth no longer meant anything. It was something I hadn’t done since the last time I’d slept over at my best friend’s house back in South Carolina, and though Logan wasn’t an ideal replacement, it still felt good to get everything out, to have a real conversation with someone aside from the typical “how was your day?” routine.

As promised, though against his better judgment, Logan had snuck out of 2J and met me on the roof, bringing along a copy of the latest issue of Pop Tiger and a business card.

“What’s with the magazine? I didn’t know you had a subscription to Pop Tiger,” I had teased him as soon as he sat down.

“Ha ha,” he had replied dryly, rolling his dark eyes as he began to thumb through the pages. “I don’t, but James does, so I stole his.”

“Wow, you’re really breaking all the rules now, aren’t you? Sneaking out and stealing. Couldn’t be any more proud of you.”

“I’m sorry, but I thought you might like to see your first published interview and all.” He had tried his best to keep a straight face as he handed the issue over, but it was hard for him not to crack a grin.

As my eyes skimmed over the article, I could vaguely remember doing the interview shortly after getting cast for New Town High before the insane media frenzy and publicity circuits promoting Varsity Vampires 3 had begun. In the dim light, it was hard for me to recognize my own face staring back at me on the adjacent page because it didn’t look like me at all. The eyeshadow made my eyes look more angular, my cheekbones more striking from the insane amounts of blush and highlighting cream, and my hair had a certain gleam to it that I’d never seen before in the mirror. It was a pretty picture, it just wasn’t me.

Logan’s voice broke through my thoughts. “I actually learned a lot from that interview,” he laughed to himself. “You know, I never pegged you as a Drake fan. Oh, and remind me when basketball season rolls around to bring you with us to the next Lakers game.”

Having my own words thrown back at me was a little embarrassing. “I’m a complex person, Logan Mitchell. Maybe you’re just too used to the shallow girls that hang around here.”

He diverted his stare as he spoke. “Maybe that’s it.”

“So what about BTR? Are you guys in here?” I asked, trying to change the subject as I flipped through the next few pages, eventually landing on an awkwardly posed photo of the boy sitting right next to me. “Uh oh, what’s this?” I teased him, gazing over at him from above the pages before continuing. “’Dating Do’s and Don’t’s with Logan Mitchell.’ This should be interesting…”

Logan didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes once more. I was kind of expecting them to fall out of the sockets, but even his display of boredom couldn’t hide the way his cheeks flushed pink.

“Like, I seriously wasn’t aware that you went on enough dates to be able to make a list. Now, ‘Dating Do’s and Don’t’s with James Diamond,’ that I could see.”

“Hey!” he protested before letting his voice return to a more casual tone. “I go on dates.”

“Like when? When was the last time you went on an actual date?”

His brown eyes turned upward as he racked his brain. “I go on dates.”

“Okay, whatever you say, dating guru.”

Silence lapsed between the two of us before I spoke up again.

“So… why isn’t there a BTR poster in here? Looks like you guys are falling off the map. Better step up your game.”

He grabbed the magazine from my lap a little too frantically, scanning the center of the magazine for his band. “We had a poster last month.”

“Bet you a large pizza that I get a centerfold poster before you guys do,” I challenged him, leaning back in the plastic folding chair as a hand held onto the half-wall for support.

It seemed to take his mind off of things. “Pssht, I doubt that,” he scoffed. “You’re on.”

“And the loser has to hang the winner’s poster on their bedroom wall.”

He paused for a moment but still remained unfazed. “Well then, guess you better be clearing out some wall space for that BTR poster.”

“We’ll see, we’ll see.”

Another moment passed, two pairs of brown eyes gazing out at the city beneath us.

“Oh yeah,” he said, breaking the silence. “I picked this up for you today, thought it could be worth a shot, since I know you’re still looking for an agent and everything.”

He slipped the white business card through my fingers, watching my expression as I read over the words: Dana Sharp, Talent Agent, followed by an address and a telephone number.

“Wow, thank you so much.” And I truly meant it, my arms trembling as I pulled him into a quick hug.

“Really, it’s no big deal.” He played it off as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. “Nothing you couldn’t have gotten on your own.”

As much as I hated to even think it, let along admit it, Logan looked ridiculously adorable while he slept, not in the “I want to jump your bones” way, more like the way you’d automatically go “aww” if you saw a puppy or kitten curled up and sleeping. Now that I was finally wide awake, I was getting a little antsy just sitting there, and though I felt like a horrible person for doing it, I had to wake him up.

“Hey Logan, get up,” I whispered as I lightly shook his shoulder. “Logan.”

I eased my grip once his face began to twist, his eyelashes slowly wavering as his eyes opened. When everything became focused for him, he practically leaped off of the concrete.

“What time is it? Are we late for school? Mrs. Knight’s going to know that I wasn’t in bed last night!” A stream of more questions and frantic exclamations fell from his lips faster than I could answer them.

“Chill out, everything’s gonna be fine. Sit down before you give yourself a heart attack or something.”

He settled back down into the space beside me, but his chest was still heaving erratically.

“Don’t freak out, but it looks like we’ll be skipping school today. But-“ I cut him off before he had a chance to start panicking, “on the bright side, at least we won’t be stuck dissecting a baby pig, which is something I’m sure neither of us really wants to do.”

He nodded quickly, affirming my assumption as his breathing began to slow.

“Just look at it this way, it’ll be kind of like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. I mean, everyone needs a break every once in a while.”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as his chest seemed to cave in on itself. “I guess you’re right. So…what do you want to do today, since the whole dissection thing is out of the question now?”

“Um, I don’t know,” I replied as I pulled my knees to my chest. “Breakfast would be nice. There’s this pancake house down the block that I’ve been wanting to try out.”

“Pancakes do sound good right now,” he admitted, threading a hand through his disheveled locks. “Maybe we could catch a movie or something after? I don’t want Kendall’s mom to catch me hanging around the building while all the other guys are in class.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. If you’d like, you could borrow some of my brother’s old clothes that I’ve stolen,” I offered with a laugh.

“Cool. I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Well, I mean, he still lives in SC, and he’s like, a gazillion years older than me, so I’m basically an only child.”

“Oh okay,” he laughed as he helped me gather the array of pillows and blankets I’d somehow managed to carry up there all by myself.

My mom had recently gotten a new job as a secretary at one of the marketing firms downtown, so she was away for most of the day. I couldn’t say that I minded my new life as a latchkey kid; it sure beat coming home to an interrogation every time I left the apartment. As Logan waited in the bedroom doorway, I dug through my dresser in search of some of my brother’s old clothes, which I had developed a habit of sleeping in. I didn’t have much to offer in the form of pants, but I handed Logan the combination of basketball shorts, a t-shirt, and a hoodie before grabbing an outfit for myself, leaving him to change in my bedroom while I ducked into the adjacent bathroom.

I quickly washed away the traces of makeup from my face, the cool water refreshing against my skin. Though I hadn’t gotten much sleep, I didn’t look as terrible as I’d imagined. My eyes were a bit puffy, and though I probably should’ve cared more about my image since I was supposed to be this up-and-coming starlet, I didn’t. I changed out of my makeshift pajamas, a gray hoodie and a pair of yoga shorts, and into some denim shorts and a Tarheels tee. I couldn’t help but think to myself that I’d never quite fit in on the red carpet. Maybe that was why most actresses had their own personal stylists, but I still couldn’t imagine myself surrounded by a chaotic whirlwind of perfume and hairspray all day.

My phone vibrated in my back pocket, and I immediately yanked it out, only to reveal a text from Dak.

“Had a great time last night, hope to see you again soon.”

I chose not to respond, not only because I hadn’t really felt that chemistry with him, but more because I didn’t want to seem desperate. Only clingy girls text back within minutes; independent chicks are too busy to be that easily reached.

Logan was waiting in the living room when I came out, my brother’s hand-me-downs swallowing his lean frame much like they did my own.

“You look so thuggish, I’m feeling it,” I joked as we made our way towards the door.

“Well at least I don’t look like the “stars without makeup” column,” he fired back, holding the door open for me.

“You’ve got me there.”

It wasn’t until we were settled down in my car that he dropped that one question I’d been avoiding.

“So how did your date with Dak go last night?”

As I tried to find the words to explain how I felt about the situation, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it shouldn’t be so hard for me to talk to Logan about this.

“It was okay,” I answered truthfully. “He seems like a great guy, but I don’t know, I just didn’t feel that connection with him that I think you’re supposed to feel, so I doubt it’ll be anything more than just a date.”

“I guess that makes sense,” he said thoughtfully, and I was grateful that he let it rest at that.

The traffic light turned green, and we continued down the street. Luckily, I hadn’t gotten a chance to turn my stereo on yet, so it wasn’t hard to hear my phone belting out Third Eye Blind from its spot propped up in one of the cup holders.

“I know this sounds weird, but could you answer that for me? I can’t drive and talk on the phone at the same time without getting us both killed,” I confessed, not exactly building up Logan’s confidence in my driving abilities.

Logan grabbed the phone without hesitation, his thumb flicking across the touch screen to answer the call. “Hello, this is Logan Mitchell on behalf of Miss Kandi Jenkins.”

It was incredibly difficult not to burst into laughter over his uptight and professional tone.

“Really? I’ll rely the information to Miss Jenkins and be sure to have her contact you to set something up. Okay, you have a nice day.”

As soon as my phone was back in the cup holder, I could no longer contain myself.

“Can I just say that you would make an amazing receptionist? You should seriously rethink the whole boy band thing and just make a career out of answering my phone, make it seem like I have ‘people.’”

“Can I just say that it seems like your little blurb in Pop Tiger worked to your advantage?” he responded, mocking my tone before explaining what he meant. “It seems like a Mr. Aubrey Drake Graham’s people came across your interview and would like to see about casting you in his upcoming video.”

“Oh my God, are you fucking with me? That’s great!”

“Seriously? You’d consider being in a rap video?” he asked earnestly, and I could feel his stare gauging my reaction.

“Sure, why not? It’s something different. Do you not think I’m cut out to be a video girl or something?” I laughed, quickly stealing a glance at Logan as my hands gripped the steering wheel.

“I don’t know, I just can’t picture you as a -" He placed his hands, balled up into two fists, at his chest, his elbows jutting outward as he did his own interpretation of a hip-hop dance."Kind of girl."

“Please have a little bit of faith in me. I’m not going to do it if it involves grinding up on some dude I don’t know. I mean, I’d hope they’d know I have no ass to ‘back it up’ with anyway.”

“Well, it’s reassuring to know that you’re not going to let it all go to your head and become trashy like Miley Cyrus.”

And with that, I knew that our day off was going to be interesting at the very least.