Starstruck

Chapter 3*

Chapter 3

-Alyssa Taylor-

  "I'm back!" A male voice rings through the apartment. I poke my head out of the kitchen to see my roommate, Nima, setting his suitcase on the ground.

  "Already? I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow?" I grin at him. "Who dropped you off here?"

  "Yeah, that's what I thought, but apparently the departure date was yesterday, so here I am, thankfully. I almost missed my flight. Oh, and I called Luke. You know Luke." He shrugs as he runs his hand through his thick, dark brown hair.

  "You could've called me, I have a license and the ability to borrow your car," I say with a proud smile.

  "I know, but you also have a busy schedule and the ability to sing better than me in the car," Nima replies as he drums his fingers along the white tile countertop. "So, you making food?"

  "Yes," I sigh, "would you like some?"

  "I thought you'd never ask," Nima smirks as he makes his way past me to the kitchen. I roll my eyes and proceed to make a second omelet. Typical Nima, always jumping at the chance for free food. I slide the omelet onto a plate and pass it to him at the small wooden table at the other end of our kitchen.

  "It's almost eight," Nima warns as I finish up my breakfast.

  "Oh, thanks," I say as I scramble to get my work bag. I still couldn't believe that I left my other bag in Ryan's car. I called him a few times, but he never picked up his phone. "Are you just gonna hang here for the whole day?"

  "Yeah, probably gonna sleep off the jet lag. Say "hi" to the kids for me okay?" Nima yells as I slip on my shoes and walk to the door.

  "Okay," I yell back before stepping out.

-Ryan Fox-

  I check my phone to see some missed calls and a voice mail from Alyssa, so out of pure boredom, I listen to the voice mail.

  "Uh, hey Ryan, it's uh, Alyssa. You broke into my apartment a few days ago, just in case you forgot or something. I left my bag in your car when you forced me to take that guitar, so if you could call me back, so I could get my bag back, that'd be nice. And yeah, bye." Wow, even in this voice mail, I could still pick out a bunch of sharp, witty notes in her voice (not to mention, but some awkward rambles as well).

  I call her back, but she doesn't pick up. The next thing I know, I'm in my car rifling through her bag looking for something interesting. Lip balm, lotion, mirror, note pad, pen, lip gloss, money, and a whole bunch of hair pins and hair ties. I pulled a small bag out of her purse and unzipped it. I immediately re-zipped it and placed it back into her bag. Tampons, okay, time to return her bag.

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  I knock on the door of her apartment and wait. She doesn't open the door, so naturally, I knock again-only louder. She still doesn't open the door, so this time, I bang my fist on the door hoping she would hear me.

  The door swung open abruptly, revealing an olive skinned guy with dark, wavy hair. He looked Middle Eastern and pissed.  He's rubbing his eyes as if he has just woken up and looked down at me with a scowl. Wait, does Alyssa have a boyfriend? She never mentioned one. He stops rubbing his brown eyes for just a moment and his scowl turns into an 'o' shape.

  "Oh my God," He stutters. "It's not my birthday today, is it? Is it really you? Oh my God."

  "Uh, I don't know," I mutter. "Me?"