There’s no way this is happening. There’s no way this is happening. The world has to be playing a cruel joke on me. Someone is going to jump out at any point and announce that I’m being punk’d.

“Oh my God,” I say, as the movie finally pauses on a scene where the actor is looking straight at the camera, a familiar smile on his lips. “Oh my God.”

The boy in the rain yesterday was Emmitt Ramos.

Emmitt Ramos, the indie film star. Emmitt Ramos, half Chinese, half Spanish, grew up in London, slowly rising in the film industry for his international work. Emmitt Ramos, known for being a heartbreaker on set and an asshole during press junkets.

Emmitt Ramos, who I told to get fucked.

“This isn’t happening to me,” I say, half-hysterical. “This can’t be happening to me.”

“What is going on?” Anam demands, shaking my shoulder roughly. “Are you okay? What the fuck is wrong with you, Apu?”

“That—that’s the boy I ran into yesterday,” I say, pointing at the screen with a shaking finger. “Shit. Shit.”

“What?” Anam’s head snaps back to the laptop. “What? Are you joking?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” I ask, nearly screeching. “Oh my God, I’m going to end my shit.”

“What is going on?” Nazifa asks, looking between us, bewildered. “You met this actor dude yesterday?”

“Oh no,” I say again, dropping my head onto the bed with a loud groan. How could I not realize who he was? I knew there was something familiar about him. His three earrings should’ve tipped me off. It’s a known staple of Emmitt Ramos. And he—that’s why he thought I wanted a picture with him. He thought I crashed into him on purpose so I could—Oh my God.”

And worse...if I had been just a little more vigilant, I might have been able to ask him if he’d consider a brief cameo in our short film. Instead, I called him a dickhead to his face.

How could I be so stupid?

“This is the worst week of my life,” I announce, my words muffled by the sheets.

Anam pulls my head into her lap, combing her fingers through my hair. Her voice is soothing when she murmurs, “It’s okay, Apu. You never have to see him again. Just pretend it never happened.”

I just groan again.

After a long beat of silence, Nazifa says, “So... I’ll pick another movie, then?”

“Please.”

5

After a weekend of moping in my room and avoiding my parents like the plague, school is a welcome reprieve on Monday morning. That’s how I know my life is miserable—I actually look forward to sitting in a desk for seven hours a day.