Ruby Unscripted (17 page)

“At first they'll have you doing the jobs they don't want, but as you learn, you'll get more into the actual production. So next week I'll assign you to a group.”

I'm more afraid and more excited than I've felt in a long, long, long, long time. As in, a long time. Maybe since, well, I don't even know when.

Kaden came back when I didn't notice. I see him talking with Sound Guy. As I head toward the front door to see if Austin has arrived to pick me up, Kaden's voice stops me.

“Something that helped me was watching movies in themes. Like the top hundred best films, or the best films of 1960. It's surprising how much you start understanding when you do that.”

“Sounds like good advice.”

“What's your favorite movie?”

“
The Passion of the Christ
?” Blair asks sarcastically as she walks by.

“Probably
The Princess Bride
,” I say, and Blair gives a backwards smirk.

Sound Guy says, “I love that movie! ‘No more rhymes, now I mean it!'”

“‘Anybody want a peanut?'” I say, along with several others in the group.

Kaden's eyes are the darkest brown, nearly black, and framed by lashes so dark it looks like natural eyeliner. There is an intensity in his gaze that makes me unable to think of any other movies.

Sound Guy tells Kaden and me good-bye and heads to the door still quoting. “‘To the pain!' ‘Inconceivable!' ‘I admit it, you are better than I am. Then why are you smiling? Because I know something you don't know.'”

“Did you notice I was friendly this time?” Kaden asks.

I remember that a week ago, I tried hating this guy. Part of me thinks I should try at least disliking him as my heart and head say,
Danger, this one could be dangerous to us.
He has a slight smile on the edges of his lips, lips that are, well, just perfect.
Danger!

“Oh, is this you being friendly?” I ignore my heart and my head, which is scary because they hardly ever agree with each other.

“Ouch, that's painful,” he says with his hand covering his heart, and then we both laugh. “If you want, I'll give you my list of the top hundred best films.”

“Sure, I'll give you my e-mail.” And I can't keep away my smile the entire time I write it out and hand it to him.

He looks at his watch. “Oh, crap. I gotta run. I'll write you soon.”

“Bye, Kaden,” Blair says, coming up beside me as I watch him go.

But not even Blair can dampen one of the most amazing and perhaps life-altering nights of my life so far.

Austin picks me up and wants to hear about school, the group, and everything, though I'm having a hard time talking about it until I process it more in my head. And as we pull into the driveway, the house, when it comes into view, feels like it really is my house.

We walk inside, and the smell of fajitas makes my mouth water.

Mac pops his head out and says, “I made brownies.”

Mom appears, holding a plate of Spanish rice, and tells me to get washed up.

“It's after nine o'clock,” I say.

“Which is a normal time for dinner in many places around the world,” Mom says. “We've been waiting for you so we can eat together. Austin's dinner inspired me.”

And I smile at that because my family, even without Carson here, feels like my family. I hurry upstairs to drop off my bag and wash my hands in my little bathroom, and my room feels like my room.

“Your dad called you back,” Mom says. “And Kate called too.”

I didn't realize my phone was on mute through the meeting and drive home.

“Call them back after dinner though.”

We sit in the living room this time. Austin recorded
Heroes
—I'd forgotten it was on tonight—which is our favorite family TV series, and even Mac is allowed to stay up late for it. It's a rerun tonight, but still we gather around to watch. During commercials, Austin starts reciting what he'd put on a list of top one hundred movies.

“
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
;
Unforgiven
; and
The
Godfather
.”

“
Finding Nemo
,” Mac says. He still loves that movie and watches it at least once a month.

The noise of conversation and the TV playing loudly surprises me like a quick jolt, reminding me of a time before, back when Dad would be my dad, the house would be in Cottonwood, Carson would be here, and we'd all be younger. The flashback is so vivid it stuns me. But I brush it away, watching it fade the way movies make the transformation from a historical event to the modern time.

Everything keeps changing. Time isn't slowing down for me to figure everything out . . . or even much of anything out. But it's exciting too, these unexpected doors opening up, showing me more of myself and a clearer vision of what I've sensed for so long.

I keep thinking about the film group. And I think of Kaden. I don't even know him. But even though my heart and head are still saying,
Beware, danger ahead,
they have no intention of running away.

chapter sixteen

Kate is coming. Kate is coming.

It's all we talk about when we have time to talk over the next week. I still know very little about her new boyfriend, other than that he's “hot” and it's a huge secret. Kate hasn't told me why it's such a secret or what high school he attends.

“I'll tell you everything when I get there.”

With homework, the Underground, and film group, I'm not online as much, and I've noticed a rapid decrease of texts from my friends in Cottonwood. It bothers me, and yet it doesn't bother me since I'm busy enough to keep it from my thoughts. Frankie and I talk often. If Blair weren't also his friend, he'd be the perfect girlfriend. Mom doesn't find the humor in my saying that.

Kaden isn't at film group for two weeks in a row, and I'm not brave enough to ask about him. Once I saw him from a distance at school, and though we tried out the church he attends, he wasn't there either. He never e-mailed me. I checked regularly until my anxiousness turned to anxiety and then to that post-jilted anger.

We tried to warn you,
my heart and head tell me. I tell myself that he's not that cute, and that he's strange anyway. Definitely not boyfriend or bridge-guy material.

My film team meets on Friday nights in addition to the usual Thursdays. I was assigned to the team that Blair isn't on, but it doesn't appear that Kaden is part of it either, since no one mentions his absence. Rob is our team leader.

There's a lot to do, he tells me. I take notes to remember everything.

Each team produces a film, and my team is partway through production. Of the two, one is chosen for the competition at the final Premiere Night of the school year. Everyone is getting stressed, and now my team has me—the ultra-novice. I get the script, and Rob explains that for now I'll be the gopher . . . meaning I run errands or do whatever they need me to do. It's starting at the bottom, but I don't mind. Then he gives me a production schedule. We start shooting the same weekend Kate is coming.

Her response to this: “Sounds like fun, maybe they'll want me as an extra.”

London now texts regularly, and she treated me to a few hours at her spa. We sat in some kind of herbal bath and then got pedicures. That's a life I could get used to.

The days go on like this until with surprising speed it's the day of Kate's arrival. And I realize, with much guilt, that I don't really want her to come this weekend. I'm not ready to have her hang out with me and the film team. How do I blend Kate and the old life with what's developing but not yet solid in this new life?

I have to work for a few hours after school on Friday. My favorite old guys are there, and I take extra effort to check on their drinks.

I'm organizing the small front refrigerators when I hear my name called. And there's Kate standing at the counter, her smile so wide and adorable that I half expect a little
ding
sound and flash of light from her teeth. She's cut her brown hair shorter than I've seen it. The front curls in at her chin.

Kate.

“Oh my gosh, don't cry on me,” she says as I hurry over to embrace her.

“I didn't realize I missed you so much.”

Seeing her is like hot cocoa after sledding, a hot bath after running in the rain, a campfire on a camping trip.

“Well, it's about time you started missing me.”

“Oh, but I miss you every day,” I say and know it's the truth. Then I notice Kate's mom and hug her too.

“Are you off work now? Ready to show us the town?”

“I was just waiting for you.”

“It doesn't feel like Aunt Betty's house anymore.” Kate flops her duffel bag on my bed and looks around the room.

“I know.”

“It's totally you and your mom's kind of place.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. It feels like Europe or some little house in a foreign country, huh?”

“Or at least what we think those places would feel like.” Kate laughs at that.

“So what do you want to do?” I ask.

“What do you want to do?”

“I made a list of things.”

“Cool,” she says, glancing around for a place to sit.

“We need a new spot for you.”

At the two houses I've lived in since we were kids, we've always had a “Kate's spot” in my room. In our last house, I had her sit in the beanbag against the wall and drew an outline of her. Then we painted and colored a Kate-on-the-beanbag mural in the spot, and so she'd sit there—the two Kates—whenever she came over. We had to paint over it when we moved out.

“Yeah.”

“What's wrong?” I ask, and yet I know. What's with the awkwardness?

“Nothing,” she says with a touch of sadness hiding in her tone.

“So what's up with this older guy?”

“He's in college.”

My mouth drops—I'm sort of bad about letting that happen instead of hiding my shock. “I thought he was a senior at a Redding school.”

“That's what most everyone believes.”

“No way.”

“Yeah,” she says with a giggle.

“So what's happening with you and him?” I have to keep my voice from sounding like my mom's, which surprises me. Am I jealous, or sad that I don't know these things already, or what the heck is wrong with me suddenly?

“Not much, yet,” she says with a sly smile. “Wanna see some pics of him?”

And we're back. Whew, that was close.