Someone Else's Fairytale (46 page)

“This is not your fault in any way. Your idea to have her in
New York
was brilliant.”

 
“And she's all excited about a career in film.”

“I know. She's already starting on her essays to apply to UCLA,
USC
, and NYU. Aaand a whole bunch of fallbacks since she won't have the best GPA even if she aces her senior year. It's her new passion. We'll see if this one sticks. Or at least keeps her distracted for a few months.”

"And it sounded like she was getting tired of Nate."

Jen fell silent.

Oh no, I thought. I counted dates. Kyra might be over him now, but if she'd slipped up before we left
New Mexico
, she could be three months pregnant or more. Her comment about wanting to stay in
New York
and maybe not being able to took on a new context. Perhaps it had nothing to do with me and Jason. Perhaps these late nights “working” were him taking her to the doctor or something. “I am so sorry,” I said. “I'll mind my own business.”

Some sniffles let me know Jen was sobbing. "I'm really sorry-"

"I'll go book a ticket."

"No, no, I can. I'll email you. Just, yeah, I'll email you."

She hung up and my phone started to ring again. Jason.

“Hi,” I said.

“Where are you?”

“At the hotel-”

"Huh?"

"It's where you said you'd meet me tonight. Listen-"

“Oh... right. We're at the apartment.”

“Okay, I can come-”

“We'll come there. Stay put. We'll come there.”

“Smooth,” Kyra said in the background.

“Love you.” Jason hung up before I could reply.

Ten minutes later, a key slid into the lock and a grim faced Jason stepped in, followed by Kyra, who did look a little pinched and stressed. “I need to break a twenty,” she said, “so I can tip the doorman and get our laundry.”
 
She saw me and caught herself.

“Why would the doorman have our laundry?” I asked.

She winced. “Oh, uh... I sent out our laundry. Hope you don't mind.”

Jason shook his head.

“You mean Jason sent out our laundry.”

“I just thought-” he began.

“Look, don't do that,” I said. “Don't do stuff like that.
Please.”

“I'm sorry. I just thought it might free up some time for Monday.”

“Listen..." I looked at Kyra, whose expression was all innocence. "I won't be here Monday."

“Why?” He looked baffled.

Kyra rolled her eyes.

“What?” he snapped at her.

“You really shouldn't have sent out the laundry.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “You shouldn't have, but it's okay. The thing is-”

“All right, you know what?” he said. “I really,
really
don't want to fight with you right now. Just... I need a moment.” He went into the bedroom and shut the door.

Kyra stared up at the ceiling.

“Kyra, look-”

“Sec,” she said. She went over and banged on the bedroom door.

“What?” said Jason.

“Let me in.” The door opened and she disappeared inside. “This is stupid!” she yelled.

“You said that already.”

“I mean, come on, the laundry. You see how much she hates that?”

Huh? I was lost.

“You may not support me, but you can at least not try to undermine me!” Jason was
angry.
I'd never heard him yell like that before. “Is that too much to ask?”

“But you're messing it all up! Your relationship? Everything was fine until you got the
wrong
idea. I'm telling you-”

“This isn't a sudden thing, all right? Someday you'll grow up and understand that there are moments in life... you know what? I've had enough of you telling me what you think.
You
don't like it when people meddle in
your
love life.”

“This is different.”

“It is not. Okay, what's different is that maybe, just maybe, you're
wrong!”

I went over and opened the door. The two of them were standing, shouting in each others faces. When I came in they looked over at me, then at the floor.

Then Kyra burst into tears. “I'm sorry,” she said.

Jason didn't look like he wanted to forgive her. He looked like he wanted to punch something. He sat down on the bed and shot her a baleful look.

“I am totally confused,” I said. “And I'm guessing this isn't about laundry.”

Kyra folded her arms and the tears kept flowing. “I'm
sorry,
okay.”

“Is this about whatever Jen called about?”

Jason flopped back on the bed.

But Kyra looked alarmed, and more than a little guilty.

“Kyra?” I asked. “Do you want to talk... about anything?”

“Um... what?” she said.

I glanced at Jason. “Attacking him isn't going to make whatever's wrong in your life go away. Your stepmom wants you home on Sunday, and she wants me to go with you."

“Oh...” She cried harder. “Right... No...
No!
I don't want to talk about that!” She kicked the side of Jason's bed, making him lift his feet to avoid her, then made a beeline out of the room.

I looked at Jason. “What's going on?”

“What did Jen tell you?”

“That it's personal.”

“Oh... we-ell... okay." He was dubious.

"I'm really sorry about Monday."

Sniffles behind me let me know Kyra had come back. I turned around and she just about knocked me over with a hug. Awkwardly, I hugged back. “You okay?” I said.

“Maybe you can stay here? I can go home by myself. Stay here."

Jason turned to look at her.

"You guys should have Monday together. I don't want to screw things up."

"Sure, now you don't," muttered Jason.

"All right, I can stay," I said.

But Jason shook his head. "Go with her."

"What?"

"Just... go with her." He gave Kyra a look of sheer disappointment and disgust.

I felt her wilt against me. She blinked and a couple of tears fell. "Yeah, what am I saying? Come with me. It'll be better this way."

"Jason."

He waved me away. "Just go, all right? Forget about Monday." His glare at Kyra had a little less venom this time. She still shrank from it, though, and left me to go curl up on the couch in the other room.

I didn't know whether to go comfort her, or try to talk to Jason. “Jas?”

He took one deep breath, then another. “Yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Sure. Yeah.” He still wouldn't look at me.

I stepped inside, shut the door, went over to the bed, and sat down next to him. “You sure?” I said.

Rather than answer, he slipped an arm around me, but not for a hug. He lifted the back of my shirt and ran his fingers across my skin. When he encountered my scar, he stopped.

“Exit wound,” I said.

His fingers traced around it a couple of times, his expression unreadable, then he moved his hand around to my stomach, where his fingers located the other scar.

Gently, he folded my shirt to reveal it. He gazed down at it, his expression still unreadable.

I sat still, watching him. I felt like I'd just weathered an emotional earthquake, and all signs pointed to worse to come. I had no idea what to say to him.

“Jas?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to forget I ever asked what you'd change about our relationship? We can do that, you know.” For the second time with him, I wished I could put my life in rewind and take a different road.

Rather than answer me, he just stared at my scar. “You must think I'm ridiculous.”

“What?”

“What I do for a living? How do you stand it?”

“I said it was weird, not that I don't like it.”

“I put on fake blood and stand on duct taped markers and pull faces-”

“And do it very well. Really.”

“You're for real.”

“What do you mean?”

“You're a survivor and a hero-”

“There's nothing heroic about getting shot.”

“But overcoming it the way you did. All I do is pretend.”

I pressed his hand against my stomach. “That what's been eating you lately?”

“Partly.”

“Jason, I love you.”

“I don't feel equal to you.”

“You've got to be kidding. Please-”

“The mark I've left on the world, is playing a guy named 'sword' in an absurd, inaccurate-”

“I love those movies,” I confessed.

“No you don't.”

“I do, sorry. They aren't the only movies you've made that I love, but they are the most ridiculous. Somehow you make them work, I mean... you make me not care that they're inaccurate and formulaic and silly, and...”

Jason just stared at me. I wasn't saying this right, and right now, I had no room for error.

I shut my eyes and tried again. “Movies, good ones, with good leads, they give the audience something they need, okay? A release. An escape. Something that some of us are too broken to give ourselves. Maybe if I'd had a normal childhood, I'd be able to daydream and fantasize and all that on my own, but do you know how many of us can't? People need their dreams. There's a reason why society pays good money for them.”

He blinked a few times, absorbing that. When he looked at me again, his eyes were a little misty.

I put my hand over his. “Are things okay, with us?”

“Yeah.” He didn't look at me when he said it.

“Look, about my question-”

“It was a hard question, Chloe.”

“And-”

“Just give me a little more time.”

“Before you do anything drastic, talk to me?”

He lay back on the bed.

“Promise?”

“Can I just hold you? Please? No talking?”

I nodded. “Sure. Of course.” I stretched out next to him and he put his arms around me. It was as I rested my head on his chest that my tears started. I blinked them back so he wouldn't notice.

In the apartment that evening, Kyra slipped into my room while I was brushing my teeth and left the jewelry she'd borrowed on my pillow. I scooped it into my jewelry box and wondered if I would get a straight answer if I asked her about what was going on in her life. I was too tired to try, though, so I went to bed.