Someone Else's Fairytale (43 page)

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Authors: E.M. Tippetts

BOOK: Someone Else's Fairytale
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I laughed. “I don't need you to rescue me.”

“I know.” He seemed disappointed by that. “You've slain all your dragons already.”

“Anything else you want?”

“That's a hard question. It's like you're asking me to be selfish.”

“I want to know.”

“Let me think about it.” He frowned and looked at me, like he was debating whether or not to say something more.

“What do you mean you don't get it?” Kyra said on the other side of my door.

Jason and I exchanged a look. He rolled his eyes.

“There's nothing to get. I texted you, deal with it.” Though she stepped away from my door, her voice got louder and louder. “Yeah, I can change my Facebook status if I want. Shut up, okay? Just
shut up!”
There came a crash, which I suspected was the sound of her phone hitting the wall.

“I'll go deal with her,” he said.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. After the talk I just had with her, this'll be a piece of cake.” He went into the living room and shut the door behind him.

 

“What? You're crazy.”

“Kyra...”

“No way.
No
way.”

“Just, okay, keep your voice down at least.”

Jason's conversation with Kyra was not going well. I stayed in my room and debated whether to stay put and stay out of it, or try to intervene.

“You want to give me advice on
my
love life? You don't even know what you're talking about.” Kyra was angry.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Well, I wasn't a psychologist, but I was pretty sure that Jason getting defensive would only cause the fight to escalate. I went out into the main room.

Kyra was standing inside her door, looking at Jason like she thought he was an idiot. Her arms were folded across her chest.

Jason just looked frustrated. He leaned against the wall and kept running his fingers through his hair.

Kyra nodded in my direction to let Jason know I was out of my room and he turned to look at me. “Yeah, sorry,” he said, before he turned back to his niece. “Please let's not fight. Just, come on. I'm trying to talk to you like another adult. Think you can help me out here?”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I'm serious. I wouldn't talk to you about this if I didn't trust you, or if I thought you were a dumb kid.”

I watched Kyra struggle then. I could see that she wanted to just roll her eyes and withdraw, but Jason's words had a marked effect. She chewed her lip a moment, looked at him again, then dropped her arms and stalked across the apartment to me.

“Everything all right?” I asked.

She glanced back at Jason. “Yeah.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Can I borrow your green shirt?”

“Sure.”

“And that silver necklace you have?”

I waved her into my room. “You can borrow whatever. Go ahead.”

She ducked inside and Jason just shrugged at me. Clearly he'd tried. At least she'd made a graceful exit. No slammed doors, no yelling.

Jason, however, looked defeated. I went over and gave him a hug.

“I'm bad at this,” he said. “Maybe it's better if she talks to you?”

“Yeah, sure if she wants.” I always waited for Kyra to come to me, though. I wasn't sure if that was the best idea, but it was the only strategy I had.

 

 

That evening, after Jason left, Kyra knocked on my door.

“Yeah?” I said. I was cross-legged on my bed, my netbook in my lap.

She opened it, but didn't come in, just leaned against the door frame. “Sooo, I borrowed your lapis ring and pendant.”

“Yeah, fine.” I shrugged. “You always take good care of your stuff. You can borrow whatever. Just ask.”

She traced an idle pattern on the carpet with her toe.

I looked up at her and waited.

“I'm sorry I eavesdropped on you and Jason,” she said.

“Sorry we didn't have anything juicy to say.”

Clearly not the answer she expected. She giggled.

“I kind of eavesdropped on you too, this afternoon,” I said. “When I got home. I didn't mean to be nosy. I just wanted to figure out whether or not I should come in.”

“It's okay.”

“I promise, I won't pry into your life,” I said. “But if you ever do want to talk to me, you can.”

She nodded and turned to leave. “Okay, thanks.”

 

 

A few days later, when I showed up on set, I found her talking to the same woman I'd seen her with before. This time the woman was picking her way through a bag of gummy bears. I wondered how she didn't get fat.

“Well, he's having a crisis and she's doing this all wrong,” the woman said. “She's with Vanderholt, the most desirable man on the planet, and she's out pouring coffee while he's just puttering around in his trailer most of the day. She doesn't warm his bed at night. No wonder he's losing his mind.”

Crisis? Losing his mind? I waited around the corner and eavesdropped, even though I knew that was a major breach of faith after Kyra's apology the night before. Then again, Kyra was telling this woman stuff that was none of her business.

“She's saving money for grad school,” said Kyra.

“He's got money!”

“Well, she's not gonna just let him give her money.”

“So she lets him buy her stuff. Jewelry. Clothes. A new car. Seriously, she's weird. It's not like she's off working as a model or something. She can put off drudge work for one summer and actually
be
with the guy. I've never seen anyone behave like she does.”

“I know. She won't give up being normal.”

“She's not normal! Normal people do not date Jason Vanderholt.”

“Yeah, I know. He's just lost it, though. I mean, seriously.”

“Well what does she expect him to do? She's gotta know he's going to crack at some point.”

“I don't know. I keep telling him he's totally misreading the situation, but he won't listen to me.”

 

 

That evening, Kyra had an appointment with her
SAT
tutor and Jason and I went back to his hotel. “I overheard Kyra talking to that woman again today,” I said.

“Who? Maxine?” He looked exhausted. When we stepped inside, he went straight to his bed and laid down. While he didn't exactly look like he was having a crisis, he did look like he had a lot on his mind. He'd been quieter than usual the last few days, but I'd just chalked it up to work stress.

“Is Maxine the woman who works in catering and is always eating by the truck?”

“She doesn't work in catering. She's a grip.”

“And what does a grip do, exactly?” I jibed as I sat down next to him.

“They're in charge of the electrical equipment and wiring and all that.” He put an arm over his eyes.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” I asked.

“Hmmm?”

“At all?”

“I'm working late Friday. Me and Kyra are. We'll meet you in the apartment afterward.”

“Okay... anything else?”

“There something
you
want to talk about?” He lifted his head.

“No. I just wondered if you had something. That grip woman says I don't 'get' how to be your girlfriend because I don't just... I don't know, hang around you all day and spend your money.”

“Well the grip woman needs to get a grip, and mind her own business. She's used to seeing actors carting women around who do just that. Ignore her. She probably just wants some rich guy to fall for her and pamper her and keep her in a mansion somewhere.”

“So you're okay with how I am?”

“Why you worried about that all of the sudden?”

I laid down next to him and propped my head on my elbow. “I don't know. You don't ever wish I were different? In any way?”

He rolled over to look at me. “No. What kind of question is that?” His gaze was guarded, though. There was something he wasn't telling me.

“So things are okay? Really?”

He stroked my cheek and nodded.

“It's just-”

He cut me off by reaching past me and pulling open the drawer of his nightstand. His hand came back with the ice cream spoon in it.

Not what I expected. “You still have that?” I said.

“Yeah. You know why?”

“Because you never clean out your suitcase?”

He tapped me on the nose with the back of the bowl. “It reminds me that you kept that ice cream I brought you. And, I have this story I like to tell myself about that, so don't ruin it by saying you just never got around to throwing it out.”

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