Page 58 of Burn the Script

I curl into a fetal position and wait, hugging my phone and a cum shirt to my chest. Right when I’m convinced I have a stomach ulcer on the verge of rupture, Carmen plows through my apartment door with a pillow in her arms.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop!” she yells.

My hand trembles when I hold the phone in the air. “I’m not built for this life, Carmen.”

“How can you be sure when you’ve never tried?”

“I tried for four years, remember?”

“You hid for four years.”

She rips the sleep mask off the top of her head and drops it to the floor, along with the pillow. Once her quilted bathrobe is tied, she climbs onto the sofa and spoons me from behind. I push the cum shirt to the rug.

“Be honest with yourself, Miguel. You hid in the privacy of Graham’s house, and you hid behind his pretend hetero relationship. I’m sorry if this sounds harsh, but all you did was build a nest in a different comfort zone than the one you had before you met him.”

“And he tried to force me out of it. He made decisions without consulting me.”

“Then leave the nest on your terms.” The arm she has draped over my torso tightens. “Take one baby step. Prove to yourself that you’re willing to try harder, and prove to him that he’s not wasting his time. Graham’s a nice guy, but even the nicest people have their limits.”

I don’t want to push Graham to his limit, not when he’s already running himself ragged because I’m afraid to ride in an airplane without a travel buddy. Since the day we met, he has catered to my every whim and comfort, like ensuring my happiness is his sole purpose in life. Even now, he’s risking his directorial debut—his childhood dream—to spend one day a week with me.

“He’ll do anything for me, won’t he?”

Carmen nods against my shoulder.

My silk top catches on my clammy fingers as I clutch my stomach again. If I can’t cover the physical distance, the least I can do is meet Graham halfway in effort. It’ll take more than baby steps to bridge the gap though. To prove I’m in this for real, I’ll have to take a giant, terrifying leap.

24

MIGUEL

THEN

February, Year Three

t/makonmain

QueenofKing16: Who’s the other guy in this pic?

poplovergurl: IDK but I’ve seen him with Mak before.

MakKing4life: Hard to miss when he dresses like that. LOL

Ladybug_000: Did he raid my grandpa’s closet?

QueenofKing16: Has anyone noticed he’s looking at the king a certain way?

poplovergurl: He’s definitely not looking at our princess.

Ladybug_000: There’s only one princess allowed in GK’s life. Unless he adds me.

Bile coated my throat as I read the conversation again. Graham and Tatum had teams who monitored comments on their social media accounts, but no one paid attention to online message boards but me. That was where all the juicy gossip happened, where people felt safe to hide behind screens and let their true opinions come out. And it was where I doom-scrolled myself into a cesspool of anxiety.

Tatum’s rabid fans loved to analyze photos of their beloved Makenzie doing normal, everyday things. Like the photo of our group climbing into an SUV at the airport after a recent vacation. Maisy and I should’ve taken a separate vehicle, but Graham insisted we’d be fine riding together. I should’ve trusted my instincts.

A shadow filled the doorway. I glanced up from my phone to find Graham towering over me. Sweat dripped from his hair, and the smell of dirt hit my nostrils as he stripped off his hiking clothes.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked.