Still, Emmitt looks entertained by the notion. I restrain the urge to grumble further, though I dearly want to.

“Won’t you tell me, Samina?” he asks, staring at me through hooded lids. “I’ve already asked twice.”

“One of these days, someone is going to stab you, and I’m going to watch on pleasantly,” I say, scowling.

A catlike grin stretches across Emmitt’s face. “I won’t ask again, Samina.”

I hate the sound of my name in his mouth. He says it like it’s more than it is, like it holds weight and meaning, like it’s a weapon that he’s eager to use.

“It’s about these two girls that are best friends,” I say after a moment, looking away from his smug expression.

“Like you and Rosie?”

I snort. “Decidedly not like me and Rosie. The main character—Charlie—is in love with her best friend, Vivienne. They’ve known each other since childhood. Charlie only realized her feelings a few months ago, and she’s been trying to work up the courage to tell Vivienne the truth, but she’s afraid.”

Emmitt makes an agreeable noise. “Where does my character fit in, then? I’m assuming I’m not playing Charlie or Vivienne.”

“No, you’re playing Nick. He’s the captain of the football team.”

“Ah, a footie player,” Emmitt says, nodding. “I see.”

“Not footie,” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Football. You’re the quarterback.”

Emmitt’s nose wrinkles immediately. “Oh. I would’ve much preferred footie. Or soccer. Whatever you want to call it.”

“You should take that up with the person who wrote the script,” I say.

He almost looks like he’s considering it. “Who wrote the script?”

I smile viciously in response.

Emmitt sighs. “You. You wrote it.”

“Ding, ding, we have a winner! Would you like a medal or a trophy in recognition of having common sense?”

He gives me a pointed look, but it does little to dampen my mood. Pulling one over on him is oddly satisfying.

“As I was saying,” I continue, “you’re playing Nick. He’s your typical asshole with a heart of gold trope.”

“Interesting that you chose to cast me for his role,” Emmitt says, tapping his ringed fingers against his knee.

“It wasn’t much of a choice,” I say. “If we want to win the competition, we need you to have screen time, and Nick is the only one who has a significant role in the film aside from Charlie and Vivienne.”

Emmitt leans forward, still far enough that he can’t reach me, but far too close regardless. “What is Nick’s purpose in this film?”

“You’ll have to come and watch our auditions tomorrow to find out,” I say, offering him an icy smile. “We have a deal, after all.”

He smiles back, equally as cold. “How could I ever forget?”