Take Two (31 page)

“We are.” It was back. The dizzy lightheadedness that always came when Taz neared her. She swallowed and tried to clear her
mind. What were they supposed to be talking about? “The movie,” she said out loud. “You wanted to talk about the bedroom scenes?”

Taz seemed careful not to break the bond between them. His hand, his eyes, remained connected to hers. “What we have on screen
is good. You’re a talented actress, because you allow yourself the privilege of feeling. I watched the bedroom scenes ten
times yesterday and I feel everything about your character. But I wonder something.”

She reminded herself to breathe. “What?”

“The character is a very bad girl. And you, Andi …” He let his eyes caress her for a moment. “You are very good. So innocent.”

Andi wasn’t sure where he was going.

“I was too careful when I wrote that scene, too worried that if I pushed too far, you’d run, you’d tell me no and I’d lose
you as an actress.” He ran his thumbs along the tops of her hands. “I’d lose all this.”

Time seemed to stop, and with everything in her Andi wanted only to fall into his arms and kiss him, a kiss that would last
half an hour or longer or forever, even. She blinked and tried to understand what he was getting at. “My character wasn’t
bad enough?”

“Not really.” He furrowed his eyebrows, intent on his explanation. “She’s a girl about to do the unthinkable. She’ll model,
sure. But she’d sell herself if that’s what it takes for freedom.” He didn’t blink. “In that bedroom scene she’s making a
decision to run away and use her body as a means of survival.” He angled his head, his tone thoughtful. “If I’m realistic
and honest to the storyline, the character wouldn’t stop at her bra. She would take off everything standing in the way of
her old self and her body. So that she could fully realize the power of her nakedness.”

Why hadn’t Andi thought of that? Of course her character wouldn’t have stopped at her bra. She wouldn’t have been afraid to
completely strip in front of a mirror. She would’ve taken everything off and studied herself, aware that from that point on
she would use her body to rescue herself from her parents’ control and captivity. “So, you want to reshoot that part?”

“I do.” His look implored her to understand. “Like I said, I should’ve written the script that way from the beginning. But
I didn’t want to ask you to do anything you’d be uncomfortable with.” He paused. “I wrote the script for you, Andi.”

She tried to remember who she’d been back then, how she might’ve reacted if there’d been full nudity in the original screenplay.
Taz was right. She would’ve run from the idea, turned him down flat. Now, though, a strange excitement began working through
her and she practically buzzed with the thrill of redoing the scene. The film demanded honesty, and nudity was as honest as
a person could get. She didn’t need to fear her body. Taz had taught her that. He saw the body as art, which meant Andi had
a pretty good idea he would be particularly taken with hers.

“When can we film it?”

“This afternoon, if that works for you.” Taz was always gentle, never forcing anything. He cared about her as a person, the
beauty of her from the inside out, as he’d often told her.

They made a plan, and Taz checked his phone calendar. “I have to go. Do me a favor.” His voice deepened, his head near hers,
the two of them swimming in a private sea of feelings and emotions. “Until then, be the character. Be the girl trying to break
free and find independence from her controlling parents. I expect what you’ll give me on film today will be some of your strongest
work yet.”

He didn’t kiss her, but he didn’t have to. His presence left a physical impression on her, and as she walked to the library,
it was several minutes before her heartbeat returned to normal.
“Be the character,”
she told herself. And in her mind she allowed a deep and powerful resentment to build against her parents. How dare they
tell her what to do and how to handle her life? They didn’t understand art or real love or the desires of a young girl like
herself. Their old-fashioned views would only keep her from experiencing life and emotion. It was time she broke free, whatever
way she knew how.

She played the thoughts over and over in her mind, allowing herself to freefall into the psyche of the character. But as she
did, she could feel the lines blur between fiction and reality. Her life wasn’t much different from that of the character’s,
was it? Her father had called earlier, and all he’d done was ask questions. Who was she seeing? What was Taz’s background?
Was the guy a Christian? Maybe she should get more involved in Campus Crusade or a local church. She hung up after ten minutes,
exhausted.

She walked faster.
“Be the character … Be the character.”
How dare they tell her what to do, and how to handle her life … Their old-fashioned views would only keep her from experiencing
life and emotion. It was time she … How dare they …

Over and over and over again she immersed herself in the character. By the time she finished with the library and walked back
to her dorm, she could no longer tell for sure who she was talking about — the character in Taz’s film or herself.

She met up with Taz in the same classroom fifteen minutes earlier than he’d requested. This time they were the only people
in the room, and Taz explained that he’d operate the camera. So she’d have privacy. She could hardly wait to reshoot the scene,
to show him that she was capable of using her body, capable of cutting-edge acting. He went over the blocking, the timing
of the scene, and the feel of it. The first part would be the same as before, but as she stared at herself in her bra, the
idea would take root in her heart and then filter through her eyes. Why wear a bra? She might have to dance topless or strip
to make money. She couldn’t find the true power of her body with a bra in the way.

“The scene will be more shadowy than last time. Better to show curves and silhouettes than too much nakedness,” Taz told her.
Even here he was nothing but professional, caring only for the integrity of the film. “You’re okay with this?”

Andi didn’t want to sound overly anxious, but with all the buildup throughout the day, she could hardly wait to shoot the
scene. “Yes.” She felt her heart beating hard against her chest. “I think you’re right. The honesty of the film demands it.”

He smiled, grateful for her understanding and proud of her at the same time. “Let’s get going.”

They ran the scene twice through to the place where she was supposed to take off her bra, and each time he cut it there. “More
emotion, Andi. More anger and defiance.” His voice was smooth against her soul, leading her, guiding her. “Let go of everything
you’ve ever held onto or believed. Here there is only the character and her emotions. Let’s try it again.”

Finally, on the fourth time, when she reached the climactic moment, she was no longer Andi Ellison, missionary daughter. She
was the character, body and soul. The emotions came like springs of muddied water, pushing through her hands and fingers,
emanating from her eyes. In the distance, she thought she heard Taz’s breathing change, faster maybe, more intense. Good.
Let him see what she could do, what she had to offer. Slowly, and with raw defiance, she unhooked her bra and one at a time,
she eased the shoulder straps down. Then with little effort, she let the bra fall to the floor.

Taz had told her the truth: the lighting was dark and shadowy. But now that she had done it — now that she was naked from
the waist up — she had the strangest compulsion to keep going, to take the rest of her clothes off too. But Taz hadn’t asked
for that, not yet, anyway. She was still the character, still a living breathing creation of Taz’s imagination. So instead
she turned slowly one way and then the other, admiring herself in the mirror, imagining how she would use her body as a key
to freedom.

Taz let her go, let the character take on a life of its own, acting from the organic place of character embodiment, as Taz
called it. Finally, after a minute or so, he called out, “Cut!” and he was at her side. “That was beautiful. I believed every
second.” His eyes were wide with excitement, his breathing still faster than usual. “I could feel you, Andi. You’re so very
talented.”

She was still without her bra or her top, but she didn’t mind. It almost seemed like Taz had a right to see her this way,
like he’d created this part of her and now she had nothing to hide. There was something else going on inside her, a sense
of power she’d never felt around him. Taz’s expression, his jagged breathing — all of it was a sign that her body hadn’t only
been a tool for the character, but for herself as well. She’d seemed to have gotten to him deeply, physically, and the truth
in that was electrifying. Sure, Taz was touched by her acting ability. But was also clearly affected by her body, by the way
she looked without clothes and the way she moved in front of the mirror.

When he was finished praising her, he stepped back so she could get dressed, and she did so without any sense of modesty or
embarrassment. “You think you got what you were looking for?”

“Definitely. More than I ever imagined.”

Andi smiled. She slipped into a light jacket and sized him up. Always in their friendship, Taz had seemed like the one in
control, the one perfectly willing to wait for things to reach a more intense level. He was clearly attracted to her, but
he was in no hurry to take it further. Drawn to her, but in no rush to date.

But here the tables felt dramatically turned. His cool confidence had been shaken and he seemed like a high school boy crushing
on a college woman.

He walked her back to her dorm, and halfway there he took her hand in his again, his fingers between hers. His breathing was
back to normal now, and most of his control was in place. “Andi, I was wondering.” An easy laugh came from him and he stopped,
facing her. “There’s a jazz concert on campus next Saturday, and then afterwards, I should have my film edited by then. Maybe
you can come back to my place and watch it.”

Andi’s heart soared, but she’d learned from him. So she refused to seem overly anxious. “I’d like that.” She drew a long breath
and let her eyes find his.

As she did, he put his free hand on his chest and looked suddenly startled. “Hey … I felt that.” His eyes danced with that
familiar teasing she’d come to love.

“What?” She held back a ripple of laughter, playing up the mock drama of the moment. “You’re having chest pains, Taz? Is that
it?”

“No.” He touched his fingers to her throat and then laid them again on his chest. “You breathed in.” The laughter faded into
sheer, unfiltered desire. “And I felt the air.”

Her body trembled with the depth of his flattery. In all her life, she’d never known anyone like Taz, never imagined anyone
like him. Night shadows hovered around them, and they were alone on the path. It was a moment when her body practically screamed
for his touch, his kiss. But he took a step back and finished walking her to the dorm. Before he left, he complimented her
again on her acting. Then he told her good-bye. “I’ll be on Facebook later.”

“Okay.” The increasing distance between them felt like a physical blow. But she wouldn’t make the first move, so she backed
up to the steps of her dorm building. It was Friday and Bailey was spending the weekend at home again. Facebook would take
the edge off Andi’s loneliness. “See you there.”

As she walked back into her dorm, a picture came to mind. A scene from her favorite musical,
Phantom of the Opera
. Midway through the play, the Phantom has seduced Christine so completely she no longer has a choice in the matter. She belongs
to the Phantom, heart and mind, body and soul. In the past, Andi couldn’t relate to the dark connection between the two, but
that was no longer the case. Taz had that sort of control over her, and Andi had given it to him willingly. She was not his
angel of music, she was his angel of acting.

Never mind the promises she’d made as a young girl; she belonged to Taz now. Whatever he asked of her, she would give because
like he said, love needed to be shared. Emotionally, intellectually, and physically. Especially physically.

She i-chatted with Taz for an hour before turning in and fell asleep dreaming of his kiss.

She could hardly wait for Saturday.

K
EITH FINISHED PACKING EARLY AND FOLLOWED
the smell of fresh-brewed Kenyan roast into the kitchen. Lisa was filling two tall mugs, and she glanced at him as he entered
the room. “Two more weeks. I can’t wait.”

“Me either.” Keith took one of the cups and held it under his chin. The hot steam felt good on his face. “We have a dozen
meetings between now and then, but the festival has everyone talking. The guys at the studio think we could take top honors.”

“I want a front-row seat.” Lisa held her cup in both hands and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Have you talked to Andi?
I’d like us all to be there.”

“She wants to go.” He slid up onto the kitchen island and let his legs dangle over the side. It was impossible to be entirely
excited about their movie when the topic of Andi came up. “I’m worried about her.”

“The boyfriend?”

“Whatever he is.” Keith took a quick sip from his coffee. It was still too hot to drink. “His name comes up, but she gets
defensive. She won’t admit they’re seeing each other.”

“They’re still working on his student film.” Lisa’s forehead lined with concern. “I got that much out of her. She dodges the
question when I ask if he’s a Christian. She said he’s a spiritual person. Whatever that means.”

“I don’t like it. She’s talking about staying on campus for the summer, working at the library and taking a few classes.”

“Her grades are good. She said she’ll get all
A
s and one
B
for this last quarter.” Lisa lifted the mug to her face and blew at the wisps of steam. “But I’m worried too. She seems different.
She used to tell me everything, even her doubts. Now it’s more of a ‘Good, great, fine’ sort of existence.”