The Phone Swap

chapter one

The man was merely trying to take my money to give me the ticket to enter the LACMA, or the Los Angeles County Museum of art, as I liked to refer to it, and I freaked out.

My heart started racing and I could feel my palms sweating.

I had come alone, so I couldn't try talking to anybody to calm myself down, or it'd look like I was some mentally unstable person having a breakdown.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" He questioned as he handed me my ticket, no change.

I mean, it was ten dollars plus tax, but I carried enough coins in my purse to create a million different options of change when needed.

"I'm fine," I whispered.

"What?" He asked again. I was getting really uncomfortable. People were staring, people I didn't even know. They probably thought I was crazy.

I'm sure I was blushing by now, when was I not? But I just wanted to run away and hide. How did people do this all the time? Stand up in front of crowds of millions and accept awards for making excellent music, or acting, or baking a good cake and winning a million dollars.

I couldn't accept anything, even if I wanted to.

Not even my high school diploma. I called in sick.

Everyone knew I wasn't sick, but it's not like I cared.

I didnt have many friends at Brookfield High School.

There were a few people here and there, but they always left me.

I couldn't make friends, correction, I can't make friends.

I try, but I can't hold a conversation.

I think too hard about what to say, nobody laughs at my jokes, and I get weird looks at people when I try to talk.

So I don't.

I don't talk.

I sit in silence and watch the world go by, thinking.

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

I blinked twice.

"I'm fine, thanks." I said, loud enough so he could hear it and stop pestering me.

I took the ticket and walked over to a bench next to two teenage girls, covered in makeup and wearing tight tank tops and short shorts.

"Did you hear that Alec Westbrook is coming here later today to see the new exhibit on trees?" One girl squealed as she reapplied sparkly lip gloss that smelled like heavy doses of chemicals.

Alec Westbrook...I had heard that name before.

I spent a lot of time on the Internet, looking up random facts and the news...he was a political person...no...

An activist?

No, an actor.

And a singer, it seemed he started out as an actor and released his debut album sometime last year.

"OMG, we need to go!"

"Obviously!!"

"If we meet him, I can post it on my Snap story and make Jessica so jealous."

"Duh."

I groaned.

The two girls looked up at me and I felt uncomfortable yet again.

"Um, you okay lady?" The one girl with highlights asked me with a snark tone.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Sure," she replied rolling her eyes. "Crazy."

I got up and walked away, anywhere from those idiots.

I might seem like some old cat lady who lives alone, but I'm not...well I do live alone and I do have a cat, but I'm not old, I'm 21, the same age as Alec Westbrook.