Him asking the same question three times in a row made me mentally slap myself. What's happening to you Helena? Stop gawking like a teenage girl. That question and reprimand brought me back to my reality. I looked at my wrist watch and sighed. I only have five minutes before the interview starts.
"No, I don't need your help." I said under my breath as I kept tugging at my stuck shoe.
"Are you sure? You will end up damaging that shoe with the way that you are trying to free it." I heard him say.
I ignored him. I kept on tugging and twisting my shoe while saying a prayer to all the gods that I can mentally recall. I can feel pain in my arm because of the unwanted tug of war so I decided to take a few seconds to rest.
When Ashton saw this, he said "Look, let me give it a try." At the same time reaching towards the shoe that I was still holding.
I slapped his hand away and grunted, "I can manage. As I have said I don't need your help." I know I was being rude, but bumping into him in this humiliating way is just not sitting well within me.
Of all the people who would offer me help, why did it have to be Mr. Perfect. I lamented silently. I can feel his eyes on me as well as the eye of every passers by. I wished the the manhole would just open up and swallow me whole and never spit me out again. That should put a great ending to this unfortunate day.
I kept on tugging at my shoe forcefully that I was taken aback when I was able to get it out. I fell onto my butt because of the force I applied to get my shoe out.
"Hah! I told you I don't need your help." I triumphantly told him while I was trying to stand up. I can tell from his eyes that he did not recognize me which actually made me feel bad. I glanced at my watch with horror and hurriedly turned around to go without even bothering to say goodbye.
"Hey, miss!" I heard him call after me. But I kept on walking or should I say limping because of the pain in my butt towards the building. I have an interview today and I can not be late.
He might think that I am rude. I caught myself wanting to turn around and say something nice to him but I manage to pull myself together just in time to not do it. Why would I say something nice when he does not even remember someone who attended the same school with him and worked with him in a play. Someone who became a part of his life. Well, I can't really blame him. He was a superstar and I was a nobody. The same heaven and earth difference in the past and the present.
I mentally chided myself. I should be concentrating on this interview and not on some hot guy that I have known way back in high school. I was debating if I still have time to go to the powder room to check myself when I was greeted by a receptionist.