Call the Shots (40 page)

“Eventually. I suppose. But after the baby’s born. That way they’ll be so preoccupied that they won’t have time to worry much about it. So don’t go blabbing to them. Or anyone else, for that matter. If I find out you’ve told your dweeb friends, I’ll break every one of your appendages. Including the appendage you shake hands with every night before you go to bed. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, sure,” I say, deciding to take it easy on her and not point out her hypocrisy where privacy is concerned because again, it’s typical Cath. “How did you . . . ? I mean . . . When did you —?”

“Figure it out? I guess I kind of always knew. If I really think about it. Even though I’ve had boyfriends. But I was absolutely positive about it last year. When I met this really hot Israeli girl at a party.” She laughs. If Cathy’s lying, then she’s an even better actress than Leyna.

“And what about Nessa?” I ask, bracing myself. “Is she . . . ?”

Cathy howls with laughter. “
Nessa
? Uhh,
no.
She tried. I mean, Nessa will try anything once. But she likes guys.”

“Oh, good,” I blurt, and clap my hand over my mouth. Crap. Maybe Cathy didn’t pick up on that.

A painfully awkward silence swallows up the room.

Or maybe she did. . . .

“Okay, Sean,” Cathy finally says. “I need to tell you something else.”

The way-too-serious confessional tone of her voice makes my belly grip up.

“Tell me something about what?”

“I feel sort of bad about it.” She coughs awkwardly. “I asked Nessa to do a little . . . investigating for me. You know, to find out if you really liked girls or not.”

“You
what
?” My skin flushes hot and cold.

“I’m sorry! I had to know for sure, okay? I just asked her to flirt with you a little, see how you responded. We figured out you weren’t gay once she caught you staring down her shirt. So there it is. My confession.”

“Goddamn it, I knew it.” I’m chewing the hell out of my tongue. “You’re sick, you know that? You need help. Seriously. Both of you.
God.
” I shake my head. “And just so you know, I wasn’t ever interested in Nessa, and I certainly never looked down her shirt.” I should probably have limited myself to just the one lie, but I’m practically vibrating with righteous indignation here. “I only let her hang around with me so she’d help me with my movie.”

“You were definitely interested,” Cathy says. “At least, according to Nessa.”

“Screw you, Cathy.” I slam my head back into my pillow. “Lesbian or not, you’re still an asshole.”

“I said I was sorry, okay? Jesus. Chill out. It’s not like you didn’t get anything out of it. I bet your movie’s a million times better because of Nessa.”

“Yup. You’re right. It is. And when we win the film festival tomorrow — which you’re
not
invited to, by the way — I’ll be able to build my own room and I’ll never have to see either of your stupid faces ever again.”

I
CAN BARELY KEEP MY EYES
open in the backseat of Angela’s car. Normally a ride with Coop’s sister wouldn’t be worth the hassle — taking off your shoes, not being allowed to roll down the windows, having to listen to her sleep-inducing elevator music — but Matt, Coop, and me missed our bus and we’re supposed to be meeting everyone at Uncle Doug’s by one o’clock.

I’ve got that overtired cotton-headed nauseous feeling going on right now. I was wide awake and steaming over the whole Nessa situation all night long — well, that and Cathy’s snores, which picked up like clockwork once she’d gotten her confessions out. I can’t believe I let myself get suckered in by them. Especially after I’d told myself they were up to something. I’m such an idiot. Of
course
there was no way that someone like Nessa would have even the slightest interest in a total loser like me. All that stuff about what a great writer I was and how I needed to be more assertive and stand up for myself. Ugh. All of it just to butter me up, to make me think she actually cared. And that stuff with the tarot — a conflict between
male
and
female,
needing to be reborn. God, how did I not see right through that? Pathetic.

Angela has slowed to a crawl as she leans forward and squints out the window. “Where the hell is this place, anyway?” she says. “I thought you said it was on Genesee.”

“It is,” Coop insists. “It’s just up here on the right.”

“Finally.”
Angela huffs as she coasts her pristine car up to Uncle Doug’s house. “If I’d known it was
all
the way down Genesee, I would have charged you twenty bucks. You’re lucky we prenegotiated.”

“You’re much too kind.” Coop pulls a ten and a five from his jeans pocket, leans over the front seat, and hands the cash to his sister. “Keep the change.”

Angela flips Coop off before popping the trunk. “And be careful taking your crap out. If I find a single scratch, you’re paying for a whole new paint job.” Just then Angela’s phone rings. She grabs it as I reach for the door handle. “Hello? . . . It’s about time someone from your stupid company called me back. Sally Gregg is a total rip-off, okay? I’m missing, like, half my diet stuff.”

Coop’s eyes go wide as he quickly shoos Matt and me out of the car. He slams the door shut as the three of us pull on our shoes.

Matt laughs. “I thought you said you were off your diet.”

“I was,” Coop says as we move to the rear of the car and take out our suit bags. “But that’s when I thought we weren’t going to get this movie made. Now it’s going to be paparazzi city, dawg.”

We trudge up the drive, and Coop turns to me. “You okay, dude? You’re awfully quiet.”

“I didn’t sleep well,” I say, knocking on the front door. “I guess I’m just anxious.”

And pissed off. And embarrassed. And depressed.

I called Nessa this morning to tell her how I felt about what she did to me. But I got her machine. So I just left a message. Explaining how Cathy had told me all about their little scheme and how neither one of them was welcome at the screening this afternoon.

I wanted to sound angry and mean and nasty, but I’m pretty sure I just came across as stammering and nervous and pitiful.

Anyway, whatever. At least I won’t have to see her today.

“Hi.”

I look up to see Nessa standing in my uncle’s doorway. There’s a brief flicker of excitement followed immediately by a tidal wave of anger. “What are
you
doing here?”

“Can we talk? Please?” Nessa shoots an apologetic smile at Matt and Coop. “Alone?”

“I have nothing to say to you. I told you not to come.”

“What’s going on?” Matt asks.

“Nothing. She just . . .” I clench my jaw, my head and heart pounding. “She shouldn’t be here. That’s all.”

“What are you talking about?” Coop says. “She helped save our movie.”

I turn on him and snap, “She doesn’t
care
about our movie. She doesn’t
care
about me. Or you. Or any of us. Don’t you get it? She and Cathy were just playing me. Having a little game. A big old laugh at my expense.”

“I’m so sorry, Sean,” Nessa says. “You’re right: at first that’s exactly what we were doing. But —”

“I don’t want to hear it! Whatever you have to say, Nessa, can’t possibly make a difference.” I shove past her and into Uncle Doug’s house. My stupid throat is closing up. If she doesn’t get out of here now, I’m afraid I’m going to burst into some very un-Rogart-like tears. “Just leave, okay? You’re not welcome.”

“Sean,” Nessa says. “Please, let me just —”

“I said
go
!”

“What do you mean there’s no popcorn?” Matt’s grandpa grouses. “I thought we were seeing a movie. How can they show a movie without any goddamn popcorn?”

“It’s a fancy affair, Arlo,” Mrs. Hoogenboom says, shuffling him along. “It’s not like your regular showings.”

The Trail Blazer Theater is decked out with balloons and flowers and posters everywhere. Practically everyone we know is here — my dad, my hugely pregnant mother, and Uncle Doug; Matt’s mom, his brother, Pete, and Pete’s girlfriend, Melissa; Matt’s grandpa Arlo and Grandpa Arlo’s lady friend, Mrs. Hoogenboom; Coop’s parents, Helen’s mom, Valerie’s parents and little brother, George, and even Tony Grillo — who’s apparently dating Kelly West again. Everybody all spiffed up in suits and dresses.

It’s like a red-carpet film premiere and family reunion all wrapped up in one. The only people missing are Cathy and Nessa. It’s kind of weird not to have them here. I mean, Cathy is my twin and Nessa was my leading lady and cowriter. But it’s not like I actually
want
them here. Not after what they did. Still, I float through the crowd feeling untethered, my emotions mixed up and swirling around inside me.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Coop’s dad has him and Helen cornered by a potted tree. “Explain the premise of this to me again. They’re monkeys. But they’re also human. And vampires.
And
zombies?”

“You’ll understand when you see it,” Coop says.

“I sure as shit hope so. Otherwise I want my twenty bucks back.”

“You didn’t
pay
twenty bucks, Dad.”

“Yeah, but my time is money, mister.”

Coop catches my look and rolls his eyes. I flash him a knowing smile and move along. Brush some lint off the lapel of my jacket. Luckily, Dad had an old suit he let me borrow. It’s sort of plaid and a bit dated, but it sure beats the hell out of my split dress pants and straitjacket-tight sport coat.

Just then my phone buzzes with a text. I get a jolt of excitement, like maybe it’s Nessa and she’s decided to come anyway and . . . but no. When I look at the screen, I see that it’s a good luck and congratulatory message from Leyna. Which is sweet, I suppose, though disappointing. And as a further bit of mockery — though certainly unintentional — Leyna’s attached a picture of her corgi’s rashless ass with a big
THANK YOU
Photoshopped in an arch over its tail stump. Lovely.

“So,” Mom says, waddling up to me, leading with her basketball belly. “This isn’t
too
too scary, is it?” She places her hand on her stomach. “We don’t want to induce labor here.”

“I told you you didn’t have to come,” I say, my tone more prickly than I want. “It’s a horror film. It’s going to be scary.”

“All right. I’ll just hide my eyes in your father’s shoulder.” She reaches out and squeezes my arm. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

“And I think you picked a great business to go into,” Mom says, leaning in and whispering conspiratorially. “The movie industry is rife with gays. You’ll feel right at home.”

I should just tell her about Cathy. It would serve my evil twin right. But instead I just sigh. “Thanks, Mom. That’s great. I’ll see you after the show.”

I head over to Matt and Valerie, who are hanging around a standee for some film called
Crib Death 2: Baby’s Back.

“You doing okay?” Valerie asks.

I shrug. “I guess.” I glance over my shoulder at the crowded lobby. “I wish they’d just start this thing already.”

“I’m sorry about Nessa,” Matt says. “That’s too bad.”

“Whatever. It is what it is. At least we got our movie made, right?”

Suddenly there’s a loud crash by the front of the door, followed by shrieks and screams. The crowd parts, and I am afforded a full-on view of what all the ruckus is.

Nick! In his humanzee costume. Matted and muddied with half of the monkey mask torn off his face.

“You!” He points a filthy mangy chimp-finger at me. “I’m going to kill you!”

Holy crap! It’s just like the end of every bad horror film when the supposedly dead creature comes back for one last attack.

Nick hurtles toward me, dragging his back leg slightly. I grab the nearest thing to me — the
Crib Death 2
standee — and swing it out wildly at him. By some miracle the corner of it makes contact with his eye and Nick goes reeling backward. Just as he’s about to recover, Tony and Pete leap into the fray. They grab both his arms and drag him, kicking and growling, out of the theater.

There is a moment of dead silence. And then the entire lobby erupts in applause. There’s a chorus of “Bravos” and “Wonderfuls” and “Brilliants.” Like everyone thinks the whole thing was staged. Like some ridiculous publicity stunt or something.

My friends — the only ones who know for real what just happened — are by my side in an instant. My heart’s beating a million miles an hour, and I’m sweating right through my suit jacket.

“Holy crap, are you all right?” Matt says.

“Yeah.” I reach out to steady myself on his arm. “I think. Jesus. That was . . . unexpected, huh?”

“You totally clocked him,” Coop praises. “That was epic.”

And then the lobby lights flick on and off several times just as we hear police sirens wailing outside.

“Guess that’s our cue,” I say.

Matt holds up his crossed fingers. “Here’s to taking home the big prize. You freakin’ deserve it after that.”

We shuffle down the aisles, those of us in the cast and crew sitting in the prime reserved rows. I notice two empty seats — one next to Mom and Dad, a few rows back, where Cathy should be. And one next to me, in the VIP row, where Nessa should be.