Someone Else's Fairytale (36 page)

“Oh, you're kidding.”

“It'll work out.”

“Surely you could get merit scholarships, Chlo?”

“I'm applying for a couple of fellowships, yeah.”

“And loans?”

“Sure. But my mom's credit record is awful, so she's not much use as a cosigner.”

“This is ridiculous. You're brilliant. There's gotta be a way for you to go to the school you want.”

“It'll all be fine. This stuff is complicated for everyone. It's no big deal.”

“You know I'd give you the money in a heartbeat.”

“No way.”

“I know, I know...
 
But it'd be small change for me.”

“Thank you, but-”

“Back off. Yeah. I know what you're saying. I do.”

“I shouldn't have even told you about all that.”

“No. Hey. We're just talking, right? About your life and all that. I want to know.”

“I know
New Orleans
is even farther from LA than
Albuquerque
.”

“It's also August we're talking about, right? Or September?”

“Yeah.” I bit my lip. I was getting way ahead of myself.

“Let's talk about next month instead. You able to come Friday through Monday, or is that going to interfere with school too much?”

“No, that works.”

Since I arrived in the middle of the morning on Friday, Dave just took me straight to the set, where a cluster of people, including Jason, stood and argued. The crew had moved to an abandoned office building, and the set was a room full of cubicles, meant to look like the police department. The desks had office phones and paper trays and documents scattered around. A half read newspaper rested on a chair.

“We can't reshoot that whole sequence,” the director said as I walked up.

“I think we might have to,” said Phil. He looked tired and haggard.

Jason caught sight of me and came over, grinning. “Hi!”

“Hey,” I said. “Everything going all right?”

“No, it's all falling apart. Horribly.” He hugged me. “She finally did it.”

“Did what?” I didn't have to ask whom. Gigi wasn't the only woman in the movie, but she was the only one people talked about, it seemed.

“Showed up wasted and ruined a day's shooting.”

“So why are you on set right now?”

“Good question. Ben-” that was the director “-wanted me here, and then he and Phil started talking. It's a train wreck.”

“Because she messed up one day?”

“It's been building.” He had a script tucked under his arm, which he tugged loose and held out to me. “I know you have a ton of schoolwork,” he said, “but do you have time to read this?”

“This for this movie?”

“No. For another one. I planned to take the summer off, but I think this might be one of the best scripts I've ever read. I need a second opinion.”

Two hours later, I was in Jason's trailer dabbing tears from my eyes. Jason sat next to me on the couch, his arm around my shoulders.

“Yes?” he said.

“It's amazing.” I couldn't put my finger on what was amazing about it. On the surface, it was a pretty simple story about a young stockbroker who discovered an insider trading scandal. There were no love scenes, no chase scenes, nothing traditionally
Hollywood
, just a good solid story.

“Well, dang it,” said Jason. “They had Barry Waitrose for the lead, but he just quit on them and they offered it to me. I wanted to take the summer off and be in
New Mexico
. That's in
New York
.”

“I don't think you can pass this up.”

“But it's in
New York
. When are we ever going to spend time together? I don't want to miss out on being with you, either.”

“Well, maybe I can get a job in
New York
. They have coffee shops there too, right?”

“You would do that?”

I considered it carefully. A whole summer in
New York
was a commitment, but not a huge commitment. Presumably I could find other people to spend time with if and when things fell apart with Jason. Really, it sounded like a nice change of pace. I'd never been to the East Coast.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Will you let me rent you an apartment?”

“No.”

“Hotel-”

“No. Not for a whole summer. I'll find something.”

But Jason shook his head. “You know what real estate runs in
New York
? They're filming this in Midtown, and you see what long hours a shoot can be. I'd like you somewhere close.”

“I'll find a roommate or something on Craig's List.”

He kept shaking his head, though. “Please let me-”

“No. Thank you, but no.” I flipped back to the beginning of the script and skimmed the opening scene again. It was so simple, but so good.

I sensed the Vanderholt stare, though, and looked up again. Jason seemed tentative, like he was about to step out onto thin ice. “I'd like you in a building with security,” he said.

That statement, coupled with his demeanor, made no sense to me. “Sure. Fine. I'll make that a-”

He leaned forward and snagged his computer off the table. After a moment of typing, he showed me the screen. A page from Craig's List. “That is how high rent is in Midtown.”

“Well, how close is Midtown to a more affordable neighborhood?”

“Not close enough.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Okay, okay... sorry.”

“It's all right. I'll be all right. Just need to do some research.”

“Chloe?”

I put the script aside. I was missing something. He wanted to have a serious talk, and I wasn't picking up on the clues that led to this.

“Does it bother you that I care this much about seeing you over the summer?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Because whenever we talk about the future, you get real quiet.”

“It gives me a lot to think about, I guess. That's all.”

He fidgeted a moment. “I'm very serious about us. That all right with you?”

“Yeah...” I tried to think ahead to where this conversation was going.

“If I have to choose between time with you or this movie-”

“You don't have to choose. Why would you think that?”

“Other movies will come along. Someone like you-”

“What are you trying to say? Because I keep telling you to do this movie and that I'll go to
New York
, soooo...”

He shifted his gaze to the wall. I glanced at my phone to check the time. He had to be on set in a few minutes. I wracked my brain. What was I missing? “You want me to live with you this summer?” I hazarded.

“Do you want to?”

“I don't not want to. I just... it's not...” The Talk. It had sneaked up on me.

“Yeah, okay. No, that's not what I was driving at.”

Or maybe it hadn't. “Then what are you driving at?”

“I like how things are right now, this weekend. I like seeing you every day and having all my free time with you. I'd like to, once this shoot is over, move to
Albuquerque
and have it be like this. Would that crowd you?”

“No...” Not if things were exactly like this. I liked it too. We spent time together, but we lived our own lives in the process. I could do homework in his trailer just as well as I could do it in my house. He wasn't clingy. He just liked to share the same space. It was ideal, really. But if he wanted to do it every day for weeks on end, I sensed that would speed up the whole relationship. He'd want to move past cuddles in the evening before too long.

“You having to find your own place in
New York
, is that you trying to get a little more space?”

“Oh. No. It's what I told you. I don't want you to buy me big stuff like that.”

“Well, we've been together two months and seen each other twice. It's a little hard to gauge where we're at. Are we a couple who's been on two dates or one who's been together for a while?”

“I don't know.”
 

He frowned. “You want to see the house I rented in
Albuquerque
?”

“You've already got a place?”

“Yeah. I don't know what you want, but for what it's worth, I want to be with you. I want to invest some time in us.” He looked like I'd jammed a knife in his gut and was twisting it, slowly.

Instinct took over and I kissed him. “I love you,” I whispered in his ear. “And yes, I want to spend time with you. This trip has been one of the best weekends of my life.”

He shut his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Someone knocked on the door.

“I gotta go.”

“Yeah. Break a leg.”

Two weeks later, I met up with Lori for lunch in the student union and she greeted me by whipping out a picture of Jason and me walking down the street in
Vancouver
.

I swiped it and hid it away. She knew that Jason and I had gotten together, of course. She and I still saw each other regularly, even though we weren't housemates anymore. But Jason and I were careful about the rest of the world. We never hugged or held hands in public. I often walked next to Dave to imply that we were together – which Dave's boyfriend thought was hilarious. From that vantage I watched everyone and everything female hit on Jason, the ones who could form coherent sentences in his presence, at least. There were still a lot of girls who just stood in front of him and shook. Some of the paparazzi had no doubt figured out we were together, but they didn't have any juicy images to prove it, so there weren't any stories about the two of us – at least, not any stories that weren't complete and total fabrication.