It was on the front of the Tuesday morning Dalkery Gazette, written in clear, bold letters: DALKERY'S FAVORITE ACTION HERO RETURNS TO TOWN! Owen Ryder. After all, he was the only kid from Dalkery—that I knew of, at least—who had gone on to star in Hollywood blockbusters. Picking up the paper, I examined it closely, hoping it would reveal something. But there were no details, no hint at why he was here. I'd known Owen since elementary school. He had been my big grade five crush. Now he was a star. And he wasn't even nineteen yet.

“Dad!” Rushing up to Dad, who had been quietly enjoying his coffee, I shoved the paper in his face. “Is this for real?”

“Sasha,” he scolded as I almost knocked over the Dark Roast in his mug. Looking up, he glanced at the paper. “Yes, it's true. Gas prices are going down at midnight.”

I sighed. My father, the comedian. “Not that. That.” My fingers traced the article. Dad worked in the Mayor's office, public relations. Dad's job was the reason I had my favorite book autographed by my favorite author, Amanda Price. If anyone would know the details, it would be him. And therefore, he had to tell me everything. “Is Owen Ryder really coming to Dalkery?”

“Yes.” My heart almost skipped a beat. “But he wants his privacy. So no, I will not be arranging for you to be alone with him.” He could not be serious. “Do not pout Sasha.” It was too late, my lower lip already quivering. “I'm serious. No.” I slammed my hands on the table, dramatically, just as Mom walked into the kitchen.

“What's going on?” She pressed, concerned.

“Dad won't let me meet Owen Rider! It's not fair.”

Dad just shook his head. “He is a celebrity. This is professional, my job. Remember?”

“Sasha, sweetie.” Mom took a seat at the table, picking up the paper, reading it over. “Didn't you go to school with him anyways? You're acting like he's not just a regular kid from Dalkery who happened to get a lucky break.”

“He's not just anyone,” now I was whining, sounding more like I was twelve than seventeen. “This is Owen Ryder. The same Owen Ryder who costarred with Christian Bale and goes to Hollywood movie premieres with people like Johnny Depp and Brad Pitt. Whose poster is sitting on the back of my door right now.” My arms were flailing, my voice very serious. “This is my favorite actor. Favorite. How can you tell me that I cannot meet him Daddy?” I was pulling out the D-word. That had to give me some leverage.

“No.” Dad answered, simply. He sipped his coffee.

I looked towards Mom,“This is your Father's job. I kind of have to agree with him.”

Throwing my hands up in the air, I huffed out of the kitchen. Slamming the door to my bedroom, I glanced at the poster of Owen behind it. Okay, maybe it was a silly thing to do, but whenever I saw pictures of him, I was instantly transformed back to grade five. I'm wearing a flowery wallpaper dress, and I still haven't grown out of my baby-fat days, my hair uncontrollably frizzy. Sitting at the lunch table, I stare across from him. Owen Ryder. Even then you could tell that he was going to be someone great. He was a grade ahead of me, which meant that the only times I ever got to see him was recess or lunch, staring longingly across the lunch table or playground.

I had to meet him., whatever it took.

“Sasha, hurry up!” Dad calls, still sounding annoyed. “You're going to be late for school.”

“Did you hear?” I asked, rushing up to my best friend Brody in the hallway. You could hear the whispers in the hallway already. In a small town like Dalkery, your news always traveled quickly. And something like this was bigger than big. “Guess who is coming to Dalkery?”

Closing her locker, Brody turned to me. “Who?” Apparently she hadn't read the morning paper.

“Owen Ryder.” I answered, dreamily. When it came to him, I was an instant fangirl. “Duh.”

“Well sorry if I don't obsessively pay attention to the lifestyles of the rich and famous.” Brody sounded annoyed, her voice slightly loud and shaky. Raising an eyebrow, I dropped the subject of Owen momentarily. “Sorry, I just... my house is hectic. My niece is doing that whole toilet training thing and well, let's just put it this way: I am very much looking forward to graduation.”

“Oh man, that's rough.” I patted Brody on the shoulder.

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged. “That's what you get when you have an irresponsible druggy for a brother.”
“I think I know of something which will cheer you up.” Brody's face perked up, “Coffee and celebrity stalking.” Just as quickly her face dropped as she shook her head. “Come on. You'll get out of the house, and I'll buy you coffee. A big coffee. One of those fancy drinks that cost an extra four dollars just so you can have your milk foamed.”

Reluctantly, she considered the idea. “I could use an excuse to get out of that house.”

“See.”

We started our walk down the hallway, the whispers about Owen's arrival fresh on everyones lips, and the rumors flowing. Listening closely I tried to find out something, anything. Dalkery didn't have an airport, so that was out. And I doubted he would be arriving by train, or bus. Was I just supposed to stand at the WELCOME TO DALKERY sign, waiting for a large black limo to drive by, and chase after it? How would Dad react when his daughter was arrested for stalking. That would be an awkward conversation.

“I can't believe you're still hung up on Owen Ryder.” Brody laughed, as she grabbed a coffee in the cafeteria. “I mean it's been like, what, six years?”

Picking out a muffin from the glass case, I stood up. “I am not hung up on him. This isn't about that. He's a celebrity. A movie star. A gorgeous movie star. I just think it would be amazing to meet him.” Handing over a five, I broke off a chunk, popping it in my mouth as the cashier handed back my change. “I'm so over that silly elementary school crush.”

“Bullshit.” Brody laughed. “I know you Sasha. You're still that chubby little eleven year old that never had the nerve to tell the, and I quote, boy of your dreams exactly how you feel.” Leaning against the wall, she sipped her coffee. “Hate to be the voice of reality, but do you really think that a boy who could have his choice of half of Hollywood is really gong to fall in love with some small town girl.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel.”

Brody didn't mind being honest. In fact, she felt it freeing to tell people what she actually thought about them. I knew it was because she had spent the early half of her teen years following behind Gwen Thompson. Brody had even gotten a small tattoo on her back, following along with Gwen without even thinking. But Gwen had a big mouth, and loved spreading gossip behind people's backs. The second Brody had found out what she had been saying about her, she had freaked out. I could still remember the day Brody had stood up to her, calling her an insecure bitch. Sometimes I just wish she had a filter when it came to her best friend. “Listen, I just think you're wasting your time obsessing over this guy when there are so many guys, real live guys, who would kill to take you out.”

“Owen Ryder is a real person.” I protested.

“See, you're doing it again.” The first bell rang overhead, and suddenly the cafeteria, and the hallway, was clearing out. Brody turned to me. “Okay, how about this. You and I will have our coffee and celebrity stalking date after school, but if we don't find this guy then you have to give this whole search up, okay?”

“But—” I started.

“No buts.” She was serious. “That's my only agreement. Well, that and an extra large, extra hot cappuccino.” She smiled, extending her hand out to me.

What other choice did I have? Taking her hand, I shook. “Fine, deal.”

“I can't believe you talked me into this.”

After school, Brody and I sat in my car, parked outside of the Mayor's office, waiting. During lunch, I had called the office—pretending to be Mom—and Dad's secretary Glenda had let it slip he had “a very important meeting” at four. Brody and I had been parked here since three-forty-five, coffees in hand, waiting to see if Owen came out. It was now approaching four-thirty. Off to one side, hidden in the alley way where you couldn't see it unless you were looking, was a shiny black SUV. He had to be here.

“If we get arrested—” She started.

I cut her off quickly. “We are not going to get arrested, okay? Don't worry.”

“I was going to stay that if we get arrested your Dad is going to kill you.” She sipped her cappuccino. “I'm just going to plead temporary insanity.” Shaking her cup slightly, she sighed. “I should have made you buy me more than one coffee. Can we stop and buy another on the way home?”

“Oh my god, look!” I squealed, slapping her on the arm. She followed my hand in the direction I was pointing. In the mid-May Dalkery sun he looked just like the Owen Ryder I remembered: sweet, his hair dirty blond. He was wearing dark Ray Ban sunglasses, and a hooded sweater. You would have almost thought he was just another boy. “It's him.”

Brody rubbed her arm. “Okay, you saw him. Can we go?”

“I didn't want to just see him.” I told her. “I want to meet him.” Before I even knew what I was doing, my seat belt was off and I was climbing out of the car. Rushing across the large grass park, the sounds of Brody calling after me, I rushed right up to him, taking him by surprise. “Oh my god.” I said, standing in front of him, smiling like an idiot. “Hi.”

Brody ran up behind me. “Jesus, Sasha.”

Removing his sunglasses, I got my first, real, up close look. Without a doubt he was still the boy that I had a crush on, down to the uncomfortable smile. But he was more than that—he was the boy who smiled at me from behind my bedroom door before I went to sleep. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “Uh, hi.”

Caught up in the drama, Brody pulling on my arm, I didn't even see my father walking down the steps of the office, coming up beside Owen. “Mr. Ryder, I just wanted to make sure—” his voice trailed off as he noticed me standing there. Glancing away from Owen momentarily, I studied the annoyance on my father's face. “Sasha. What are you doing here.” Looking behind me, he gave Brody a look, his arms crossed over his chest. “Hello Brody.”
“Hi Mr. Frank.” She replied, defeated. “I swear, this wasn't my idea.”

Owen looked from me, smiling like an idiot, to my father. Dad handed him a map of Dalkery, certain locations highlighted. The man who was standing beside Owen was fiddling with his phone. “Is this your daughter?” Owen asked.

“Uh,” Dad paused, probably embarrassed, “yes, actually.”

“You look familiar.” Owen tilted his head to the side. “Conner Street Elementary, right?”

I nodded, excitedly. “You remember.” I could feel Brody rolling her eyes behind me.

“Sasha,” Dad's voice was low, serious. A warning. “Shouldn't you be getting home. I'm sure you have homework. Besides Mr. Ryder is a busy man. He has things he should be doing. You shouldn't be bothering him.” Under his breath, he added: “We talked about this?”

Ignoring my father, already in big trouble, I turned my attention to Owen. “Are you touring Dalkery?”

He nodded, glancing down at the map. “Yes. It's been a while since I've been here. The town has grown up a lot since I left.”

“I could show you around.” I said it even before I knew what I was saying. Dad was already shaking his head, and Brody stood behind me, tugging on my arm. But standing across from Owen everything in the world disappeared. “I mean, if you wanted. Until you started to remember your way around.” At eleven and chubby, I never had the nerve to talk to him. Maybe it was the caffeine coursing through my veins, but I suddenly felt liberated. “My car is just over there,” I pointed behind me.

There was a long pause. Beside him, Dad started to apologize, “Mr. Ryder, I'm very sorry—”

Owen cut him off. “That sound cool.” Turning his attention to the guy standing beside him, he handed over the map. “Jeremy, I'll meet you back at the hotel, okay?”

Even the assistant, Jeremy, seemed to protest. “Owen, I'm not sure this is such a good idea.”

“Don't worry. I'll meet you there later.”

Jeremy the assistant just nodded in agreement, obviously a yes person. Taking the map, he slowly started walking in the direction of the SUV in the alley. I just smiled to myself.

“Sasha,” Dad spoke up. “I really don't think this is a good idea.”

“Don't worry Mr. Frank.” Owen spoke up before I had a chance to respond, patting him on the shoulder. “I'll take care of her, make sure nothing bad happens.” Then turning to me, he cracked a smile. “Shall we?”

It could have very easily been a dream, and I pinched myself twice, just to make sure it wasn't. As Owen Ryder climbed into my car, I started the ignition, suddenly scared of what he thought. Brody's empty coffee cup was thrown on the floor, and her junk food wrappers were strewn haphazardly. “Sorry about the mess,” I told him as I pulled out of my parking spot. “If I knew that Owen Ryder was going to be driving in my car, I would have had it detailed.” And again, I sounded like a fan girl. Embarrassed, I just smiled in his direction, trying to pay attention to where I was going. “So, where to?”

“Well, I was hoping to look at some of the new housing developments.” Pausing, he added: “And you know, you can just call me Owen.”

“Okay, Owen.” I took a sharp left. Concentrate on driving, I reminded my self. And breathing. “Sorry about that. I really am a good driver. You don't have to worry.” Slowly my speed, I took another corner. “See.” Pulling up to a stop sign, you should new, oversized houses in the distance. The outskirts of Dalkery, slowly developing. Of course, it was nothing come to the houses in LA, I was sure. “So, are you moving back to Dalkery?”

Owen shrugged, “I'm thinking about it.” He pointed to an almost built house, the driveway still not poured. “Hey, can you pull in here?” I dutifully followed.

The second we parked, Owen jumped out of the car. Sitting still, I didn't know if I was supposed to follow him. My hands gripped the steering wheel, just waiting and watching. A second later, he paused, turning around, and waving in my direction. Excitedly I climbed out, following behind him, up the gravel driveway, the newly built stairs, through the unlocked door. The house was still a work in progress, unfinished, the walls black canvases.

“What do you think?” Owen asked as we walked through the unlit interior. It reminded me of a house falling down, abandoned. Except, this was the reverse. I ran my hands over the bumpy surface of unpainted walls.

“I'm sure it will be nice.” I answered.

Owen nodded. “I'm still not sure though. I mean, this is probably where I should live, on the outside of town, but—” his voice trailed off. “Personally, I would rather live somewhere like my house I grew up in. The middle of town, and the bustle.”

“Bustle?” I nearly laughed. “You live in LA. You've been to New York. Those are cities that are alive.” Leaning on the way across from him, I spoke dreamily. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be walking through an almost-built house, talking to Owen Ryder. “Personally, I can't wait to get out of here. Go somewhere really alive.”

“That's what I used to think. But trust me, you don't realize how much you miss this place until your gone.” And then, he sighed.

“You never told me, why are you thinking about moving back here?”

Owen took a seat on what I figured was an almost complete kitchen counter. “Truthfully, I'm over LA. I've spent five years in movies and on TV, going to LA parties and having my picture in Newspaper and tabloids. Jessica Alba is cheating on her husband with me, and I got into a fist fight with Christian Bale on set. I'm just so tired of the bullshit.” Looking up in my direction, he shrugged. “I would have given more than anything to go to prom, to a high school party. To get drunk and not have it on the front page. I'm eighteen. Sometimes you just want to do something crazy and not have the world know about it, you know? There is so much I've never done. And maybe if I get out of Hollywood for a while, maybe I can be normal, you know?”

I thought back to what my mother had said at breakfast. You're acting like he's not just a regular kid from Dalkery who happened to get a lucky break.

“You want to do something crazy?” I asked. Owen looked over at me, curious, nodding. Grabbing his hand, I pulled him towards the front door. “Come on.”

If Dad knew I had a key to the Dalkery indoor swimming pool, he would have killed me. Luckily, the pool was closed on Tuesdays. Unlocking the side door, I held it open for Owen. Part of me felt bad for him, not only because he really wanted something simple, but because of how I had treated him. He was just a regular guy, and maybe that made him even more special. Closing the door behind me, I punched the security code. That would have been the last thing I needed—getting arrested for breaking and entering.

“Where are we?” Owen asked as I pulled open the door which led to the pool.

The chorine-lace air filled my lungs as we stepped inside. The surface of the water was smooth, untouched. Brody and I occasional broke in here to go swimming, away from the screaming kids and crowds waiting to use the slide.

“You said you wanted to do something crazy.” I told him as I peeled off my outer sweater. “Have you ever been skinny dipping?” Owen looked at me, a surprised look on his face. Truth was, I had surprised myself. This was definitely not how I had pictured my day going. A surge of confidence I didn't know existed. There was just something about him—he wasn't that boy I had secretly loved in grade five, and he wasn't the boy in the poster on the back of my door. “I promise, there are no cameras, and I won't sell your story to Us Weekly.” Unzipping my pants, I pulled them off, raising an eyebrow. “You game?”

“You're serious.”

I nodded. “Completely.”

Owen ripped of his shirt, throwing it over on the pile of my own clothes. Turning my back to I pulled off my t-shirt, diving into the calm waters. The second I hit the water I pulled off my bra, and underwear, swimming over to the edge and tossing them up. Turning around, I listened as Owen took a running start, cannon-balling into the water loudly.

“Wow.” He swam to the surface, brushing his hair out of his face. I swan around him, keeping enough distance. “This water is a little chilly.”

“Try skinny dipping in the bay in the middle of June.” I laughed. “Now that is cold.”
Owen smiled. “I guess I'll have to try that one next.” There was a pause, and then, laughing: “So do you often bring strangers here to get naked and swim?”

“You're my first.”

We swam around for a while, crossing the length of the pool, and the back again, just talking. Owen told me about LA, about making movies, about what it was like traveling. He told me about how he never really wanted to be a movie star, it just sort of happened. He talked about missing this place, how he longed for a Dalkery white Christmas and his Mom's Christmas cooking. We talked about growing up here, and I told him my own stories of summer adventures, about skinny dipping, about summer storms and swimming at midnight under a full moon. We just talked, until the sun set outside and the pool grew even darker. It was the first time in my life that I had ever seen him as a real person.

“So,” I said later as we snuck out, back to the car. “What do you think?”

“I think,” he started, climbing into the passenger side door of car. I no longer felt the need to apologize for the mess. “I may just have to look you up when I come back here. See what you have in-store for me next.”

As I started the ignition, I laughed. “You have much to learn, Owen Ryder.”

Driving off into the sunset, you would have thought it was the happily ever after of another Hollywood film. But this was real, and this was happening. We weren't characters in a movie, we were just a boy and a girl. Feeling brave, I turned my attention to him. There was one more thing I needed to say.

“You know,” I started. “When we went to school together, way back when, I had the biggest crush on you. Even before you went off to Hollywood, I always knew that eventually you would do something great.”

“And?” He asked, “did I live up to your expectations?”

Nodding, I grinned in his direction. “I'd say you're a pretty cool guy.”

And with a shared smile, and untold story, between us, I took another sharp turn, laughing to myself as we drove deeper and deeper into Dalkery. Suddenly the lights of LA held nothing to the this town I called home. Hollywood be damned.