Under the Lights (27 page)

“But she's a girl,” I whisper. “And so am I.”

“So you're a lesbian, K-drama, not an axe murderer. Why do you say that like it's the most horrible confession on earth?”

“Because it may as well be, and you know it!” My voice heightens a little as I blurt that out, and I drop it back down to a whisper. “I have enough stacked against me as an actress, and enough stacked against me with my parents, too. I can't add this on top of everything else. I'd never work again—”

“Come on, that's not true. We've seen plenty of actors come out and continue to get work.”

“Oh, please—they almost never get as much as they did before. And when they do, it's always some white guy or girl who already has so many acting credits that no one gives a shit. I mean, I don't think they'll kick me off
Daylight
or anything, but what if they do? What if fans are so pissed that they revolt and I get tossed off?”

“Then they're assholes, K-drama! What do you want me to say? Anyone who doesn't want you to be happy with who you are is an asshole. Fuck pleasing everyone else. You only live once. Who are you gonna do it for?”

“It's not that easy, Josh. I
want
to keep acting. I want my career. I want to make it here. Maybe I can say screw it and get Bri back—which at this point is a
big
maybe—but if I lose what I wanna do with my life, then I'll just be unhappy in a different way. And how long would Bri even wanna be around that?”

He sighs heavily. “So, basically, no one gets what they want—not me, not you, not her, not your parents. We're all just fucked.”

“Well, that's not entirely true. Liam seems to be doing A-OK.”

We both laugh. “Fucking Holloway,” Josh says, but there isn't any anger behind it; I take that to mean that at least things between them are better now. “Well, I really hope you figure things out.” He flicks one of the ribbons tying my canopy to a post. “She seems like a cool girl, especially considering what a train wreck she could've been, with those genes. And it's nice to see you happy.”

I lean over and peck him on the cheek. “Thanks, Josh. That's really sweet. Especially considering…” I gesture between us.

He laughs. “Yeah, well, I had a feeling what your answer was gonna be, but I'm making some changes and I just didn't want to leave any loose ends.” He braces his palms on his thighs and stands. “And on that note, I should head out and let you finish dealing with this crap.” He glances at my computer screen. “Hell, I should probably go do the same thing. But until then…” He pulls a keyring from his pocket, jiggles a single key from it, and presses it into my hand. “The guest house. Don't know how much longer I'll have it, but it's yours while I do. Not like anyone else really uses it, anyway.”

“Josh—”

“It's a temporary solution, but it's something,” he says with a shrug. “I'll see you around, K-drama.”

“Thank you.”

He nods and walks out, leaving me staring down at the imprint of the jagged metal in my hand and wondering when Josh Chester became the on-site best friend substitute I'd been looking for.

I don't end up using the key. It just feels wrong, now that I know Josh's feelings and he knows mine. I do, however, find a place that week—a temporary thing, while I look for something that feels a little more like home—and move in the next. It's exhausting, doing it all around filming the show, and obviously my parents don't help, but it's got some basic furniture and Carly and Jamal help me bring over some clothing and pictures and stuff.

At least it's something to focus on while the press analyzes my life. I've made as many statements as possible that Josh and I are just friends and that Zander and I are on very different schedules with all that's going on in our careers and blah blah blah, but I have no idea if it's helping.

The one thing I
have
done is break things off with Zander behind the scenes. It's glaringly obvious that “relationship” was never going anywhere, and while there's plenty I'm confused about right now, my feelings for him aren't in that category. Nor are my feelings on that purity pledge. I wish I could say I did it the mature way I'd originally planned to, with an in-depth conversation to discuss our feelings and goals and whatever, but the truth is, I sent a lame-ass
I can't date you anymore
text and then deleted every one of his responses. The only reason Jade hasn't ripped me a new one yet is because I haven't told her, and I'm guessing Zander hasn't either. Like, he thinks I'm just on my period and will come to my senses eventually or something.

No, seriously. He actually said that. In a text.

Meanwhile, I haven't spoken to Bri since that day at Josh's house. I'd desperately hoped some time apart would help me forget about her, but if anything, it's only made getting my own place even lonelier.

By Thursday of that week, I'm feeling lower than low. I'm off, but the thought of leaving the house, even for a spa day or something, fills me with anxiety. Plus, I'm feeling a little gross and sluglike, especially after non-stop takeout. Finally, the idea of going to yoga pops into my head. I haven't been in weeks, and I could definitely use a night of losing myself to meditation.

I check the time on my phone. If I change and head out right now, I should be able to make the five o'clock
session. I usually prefer to go at night, when it's cooler outside and traffic is less crazy, but if I don't get out of my house soon, I'll go nuts. Plus, at this hour, at least I'm guaranteed Bri won't be there.

The simple act of changing into my yoga clothes makes me feel better already, and when I get to the studio, I know I've made the right choice. This is exactly what I need right now, for both my mind and body. This is perfect. This is—

A huge mistake. Because the first person I see when I walk inside is none other than Bri. And she's talking to a tall, athletic-looking blonde I know is her ex-girlfriend within two seconds of seeing them interact. The blonde flicks Bri's ponytail in a way that makes it clear she's done it a million times before, and Bri laughs. God, I've missed the sound of that laugh.

I so badly want to run, but too many people have already spotted me, and they're already whispering. I can only imagine how much worse it would be if I left. Then Raoul calls everyone to attention, and everyone, including Bri and her Amazonian ex, get into place; I have no choice but to do the same.

He gives me a little smile and nod of recognition, and that's when Bri looks up into the mirror and spots me. The smile on her face drops, but she doesn't look away—not immediately, at least. I try to smile at her, but my lips won't curve, and eventually we both give up the half-ass effort and begin our deep breathing.

It's too late, though. Now that I've seen her, I can't clear my head. I can't think of anything else. All I can do is move into position after position while sneaking looks at her in the mirror. She never catches my eye, though; unlike me, she's focused. Peaceful.

Her ex, though…she seems to be doing the same thing I am. I can't help wondering why they broke up
and just how permanent it is. It hadn't occurred to me that Bri might be here to reunite with her, that she could be over everything that happened with us so quickly, but really, what reason did I give her to do otherwise? Why
shouldn't
she find happiness with someone who can give it to her?

And if I won't, why does the idea of seeing her with someone else make me feel like there's a tornado swirling around my insides?

God, watching her hurts. I try to stop, and I can't. I can't pull my eyes from the drop of sweat rolling over her tattoo and down the back of her blue Radiohead tee. I can't not follow her graceful limbs shifting from pose to pose. Even when I close my eyes, I see her behind my lids.

Like I said to Josh, I know choosing her is just choosing one happiness over another. But when I'm with her—laughing, talking, kissing, dancing, even just swirling our hands in the sand on the beach—I never feel like I need anything else in the world. If acting's just as fulfilling, why is there such a huge hole in my heart at the sight of her?

Class is over before I know it, and as I chug my water, I watch the blonde turn to Bri. She says something to her and gives her a hug, and I hold my breath as I think,
Please don't leave together. Please don't leave together.
The blonde walks out herself, thankfully, and I release a sigh as soon as she's gone.

But my relief is short-lived when I see that Bri's just about ready to leave, too. And I know then that watching her walk out the door without a word will kill me. Even though I shouldn't, I say, “Bri, wait. Please.”

She does, but she looks pretty pissed about it. We're both silent as everyone else files out, and only when we're alone does she speak.

“What are you even doing here?” she asks, her voice taking on an edge she's never used with me.

“I didn't think you'd be here,” I admit. “I needed to do some yoga to clear my head, and I'm off today, and I know you don't usually come to the five o'clock because…” I flip a hand toward the door. “So, um, does that mean you and she are, um…” I can't even say it, but I know she knows what I mean.

“Vanessa, we really shouldn't be talking about this.”

It feels like being punched in the gut, hearing her say that, all but confirming my suspicions. “I know,” I say. “I'm sorry. I don't mean to make things weird. It's just that I feel like I'm disappointing everyone on earth lately, and it sucks, but you…it's the one that really kills me. I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I ruined any chance of anything happening with us. I mean, I still don't have everything figured out yet, but I guess I was holding on to the thought that it was still a possibility. If you're back with her—”

“I'm not.” She sighs, fiddling with the sleeve of her T-shirt. “I mean, I guess she's still interested or whatever, but it isn't mutual. I didn't come to this class to see Amanda. I came because I didn't care about seeing her anymore.” She laughs bitterly. “I started going to the late class to avoid her, and now I'm back here to avoid you. Maybe I just need to take up a new hobby.”

My relief at the knowledge I haven't lost her completely is so strong that I almost lean over and kiss her right then and there. I know I can't do that, but I need to acknowledge the fact that there's still something between us. That I still feel it, too.

And so, without even thinking about it, I place my hand on that tiny little curve of belly.

She winces. “God, I hate when you do that. Do you just enjoy pointing out the squishiness?”

“I love your body,” I rasp, admitting what I couldn't the first time I did this. “I think it's so sexy. I wish you saw it the way I do.”

“You don't think that,” she mumbles, casting her eyes downward.

“Of course I do.” Now it's my turn for a humorless laugh. “I think that way, way more often than I should. Trust me.” I drop my voice, and I don't realize just how honest I'm going to be until the words push themselves out of my mouth. “I wonder what it would be like to be with that body—with you—every freaking day.”

She just shakes her head, but I can see tears forming in her eyes, and I feel them forming in mine, too. Because it doesn't matter that I feel this way. It doesn't matter if she feels the same. These are just words; I've already given up any opportunity I had to put anything behind them.

“You can't say things like that to me,” she says, her voice faltering as a tear falls onto her shirt, and I know she's right.

“I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry.” I take my hand back, wishing I had a pocket to stuff it in or something. “I just moved in to a new place, and I think I'm a little stir-crazy, and being dumb, and…I should go. I'm sorry.”

I don't give her a chance to respond before I rush out of the studio and to my car. But I can't drive away just yet. Not until I give my breathing a chance to calm down and my tears a chance to dry up. Which is gross, because I'm just sitting in my own sweat, but I don't even care. I don't care about anything right now except—

“Hey!” I look out the window and see Bri jogging up to the window, which I immediately roll down. “You're still here.”

“I'm still here.”

“I was thinking…” She nibbles on her lip for a few seconds, and I can't help watching her do it. Which I'm pretty sure she notices. “I mean, you had me all curious about your new place.” She squeezes the back of her neck. “I'd love to see it. And maybe we can talk. There are some things I probably…we should talk.”

There is so much I don't know about what's happening with everything right now, but if there's one thing about which I'm absolutely, positively certain, it's that I want to be alone in my apartment with Bri. “I'd love that,” I say softly.