Page 8 of Sleeper: The Palisades Edition

There were probably at least seventy other people in that soundstage, but it really felt like just the two of us all of a sudden in this empty space between the snack table and the black curtains that hid the exits to where the trailers were parked on the lot outside. Shane smiled down at me. I swear, he was so friendly, even his hair was smiling at me.

“You having fun in LA?”

“Yeah.” I had found my voice, now that my brother was gone. My hands were no longer shaking either, and my eye had stopped twitching. It was like I was meant to be alone with this guy. “It’s sunny. It smells like skunks, but people seem happy here.”

He looked amused. “Yeah. They do seem happy, don’t they? Are you happy in Michigan?”

“I guess so. But I won’t bethere forever.”

“No? You coming out here to be an actor too?”

“Hah! No way. I’m going to live in Paris and make perfume.”

“Perfume in Paris, huh? You do smell nice.”

“Thank you. It’s sweet pea. The flower. P-e-a. Not pee like urine.”Phew. Good thing I cleared that up.

He grinned. “Got it. I’ve never met anyone who wanted to make perfume before. How do you do that, exactly?”

“Oh, well, I haven’t learned all the different ways yet. I have to study chemistry in college and stuff, but you can use essential oils too. It’s just mixing things together until you get the smell you want.”

“That makes sense. Where do you learn that stuff? Potions class at Hogwarts?”

“I wish. My parents won’t let me spend money on all the stuff I need yet. But I want to have my own company.”

“Good for you. I bet you will…” His brow was furrowed, like he was really thinking about this. “How did you—why did you decide to be a perfume maker?”

No one had ever asked me that before. “My grandpa smoked a pipe. The tobacco smoke smelled like cherry vanilla. Every night, after dinner. It’s the most delicious and comforting smell, and you’d smell it as soon as you walk into my grandparents’ living room. And anyway. He died. He had a heart attack two years ago. It sucked.”

“Oh yeah. Nico told me about that. Sorry. Your gram’s really cool. But she seems sad sometimes.”

“I know. It still smells like my grandpa’s pipe in her living room. It makes her happy-sad. She doesn’t alwayswant to feel happy-sad, which is partly why she offered to come out here with Nico. But that smell reminds her—and me—of Grandpa more than anything. It’s instant. It’s like he’s there. That’s how I know how important smells are. And I want to make them. I want to make important smells that make people feel things.”

“That’s really interesting, Willa.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, they’re gonna call me to set soon.”

“Okay.”

“Hang on. I’m gonna sit down to write on this. It’s W-i-l-l-a, right?”

“Yes.” I loved how important it was for him to spell my name right.

He sat down cross-legged on the floor, placed the magazine on top of his script on his thigh, uncapped the marker, and began writing and doodling on the magazine.

I sat down right next to him, close enough that my knee touched his. The scent of a metallic Sharpie marker would always remind me of him. He smelled like soap and spearmint, some hair product that I didn’t recognize, and Tide detergent. Cute Guy smell.

The rest of the cast had only signed their names, but he was writing other words too, on both pages of the article.

“Yo! Superstar! They need you on set.” My brother jogged over.

“Be right there.” Shane put the cap back on the pen, closed the magazine, and handed them to me. I was surprised by how serious his expression was. He stood up and then held his hand out to help me up. I took hishand, and he lifted me up, his index finger touching the inside of my wrist. Right on the pulse point. In the time it took me to stand, I didn’tseeour future life together, but I felt it. It felt comforting and exciting and romantic and light and important, and there was a home and kids and…I swear I felt it all in that moment.

I didn’t know if he felt it too, and I didn’t care. That tiny touch of his finger fired up my pulse, and if I had been anywhere near the same height as him, I would have kissed him on the mouth. But I was a foot shorter than him, so I did the next best thing.

Or the worst. Depending on how you look at it.