Take Four (23 page)

He grabbed a remote control and clicked a button. A video screen flipped down from the ceiling a few feet away. “Wanna watch
Remember the Titans
?”

This time she did laugh, because he looked so much like a kid, happy to have a friend to watch a movie with.

“Definitely.”

He moved his arm from her shoulders and settled for sitting beside her, shoulder-to-shoulder. As the movie started, he caught her eye. “Want to know a secret?”

“What?” She relaxed, and remembered to enjoy herself.

“Growing up, I wanted to be a football player. In the worst way.”

“Really?” She couldn’t picture it. He was so good at what he did, so not the football player type. As good looking as he was, he wasn’t overly tall or muscular. She figured he would probably have been leveled on a football field. But he was being honest with her, so she smiled, understanding. “And I wanted to be on Broadway.”

This time his smile warmed his expression, and he settled in beside her. “Look at us now.”

“God had different plans.” She turned toward the screen. “Better plans.”

As they watched the movie, Bailey realized how often through the night she’d thought about Cody, and how much she missed him. Her parents had often said money and fame would never bring them joy. She could hear her dad telling them true joy could only come from having a passion for the work they’d do when they grew up, from living within their means, and—even more—from the people they surrounded themselves with. Bailey felt the familiar ache in her heart.

People like Cody.

She allowed herself to get comfortable on the sofa, and when she mentioned it was a little chilly, Brandon gave her one of the plush throws. “Wrap this around your legs,” he told her. But he didn’t try to share the blanket or move in too close to her.

Bailey was grateful. By giving her space, she was allowed to think a little more about why God would’ve placed her here. She wondered how many Christians across America prayed for Brandon Paul to find a stronger faith, and she thought about the Bible Katy had given Brandon yesterday. She could hardly wait for him and Dayne to start reading it together.

That was it, really. That’s why Brandon was falling for her now, why he thought he wanted to date her. It wasn’t that he wanted her—Bailey Flanigan from Bloomington, Indiana. He wanted Bailey’s faith in God. Because more than anything or anyone else, joy came from having faith in God. Bailey believed that with all her heart.

She could hardly wait for Brandon to believe it too.

S
OMETHING VERY BIG AND VERY DRAMATIC
was happening inside Brandon. Like maybe all his days until now had led up to this moment in his life. Against everything he’d told himself leading up to this movie, he was reading the Bible—actually studying Scripture with Dayne and Katy in the early morning before the shoot each day.

And more than that, he was liking it.

For the first time in his life there seemed to be answers for his empty life and meaningless relationships. Almost as if life hadn’t made sense until now. But still he didn’t want to get crazy. He was a celebrity, after all. Celebrities didn’t become public Christians—not hardly. He wanted to keep the whole Bible thing as quiet as possible except around one person:

Bailey Flanigan.

The producers and their wives and Bailey all spoke some sort of language the rest of the world didn’t seem to know anything about. Except maybe the caterer, Danielle. She was always telling him, “God bless,” and reminding him she was praying for him. And maybe there were others too. There must’ve been because the mood among the cast and crew was definitely different on this set.

Still, he wasn’t ready to go public with the fact that he was reading the Bible in his spare time. He doubted he ever would. Right now it was enough that the Bible study gave him more common ground with Bailey. After the trip to New York, he had fallen for her a little more every day. She wasn’t interested, and
that was fine. For now. Eventually she would change her mind. So the more he knew about her faith, the better chance they’d have of connecting.

The next two weeks blurred together—one long day of shooting after another. But Brandon never got tired of reporting to the set. Just seeing Bailey made his heart feel light and young and whole again—the way he hadn’t felt since before NTM made him famous.

Many times Brandon and Bailey watched the dailies together, and he was amazed at what the director was getting. The story was compelling, no doubt. The book was one of his all time favorites. But the movie
Unlocked
was going to be a piece of work people would talk about for generations—Brandon could see it in the performances they were turning in one day after another.

“This is more than we prayed for,” Keith said often. “God is blessing us beyond anything we could’ve asked or imagined.”

Brandon wasn’t sure if the performances were God’s blessings from above or the chemistry between him and Bailey—or the fact that she was simply an undiscovered talent who was only tapping into her potential. But there was no question Keith was right. The footage was stirring and honest and beautiful. Especially the scenes Brandon and Bailey did together.

Now it was Saturday morning and they were finishing up after meeting for a few hours to catch up on scenes they’d missed during the week. Brandon thought they might work through dinner, but it was a little before noon when Keith called it a wrap. “Danielle’s made a great chicken enchilada casserole—so don’t miss that,” Keith told them as the cast and crew gathered around. “After that, we’ll see you at seven Monday morning.”

The day was once again unseasonably warm—in the midseventies with sunshine and blue skies as far as they could see. Brandon had been careful about spending time with Bailey off the set. He wanted to respect the fact that she had a boyfriend, or
at least that she had feelings for the high school coach. But today he couldn’t stop himself.

At lunch he sat across from her—careful as always not to give the paparazzi the chance to make more of their friendship than it was. “You know what I haven’t seen?”

She smiled, and her eyes lit up. “A textbook?”

He laughed and looked down at his plate for a minute. She was always rubbing it in that she had a full load of college courses to contend with in addition to the shoot. “Actually,” he looked up. “I was thinking about Lake Monroe Beach. Everyone says it’s a great place, but…well, I’ve never been.”

“Hmmm.” Bailey angled her head. “You’re staying with Dayne and Katy right on the lake. The beach looks like that. Like a lake.”

This was the comfortable place they’d found together—one marked by laughter and teasing. But this time he gave her a pleading look, the one that employed his best puppy-dog eyes. “Your mom’s not here today…you have a car.”

“Yes…” She took a bite of her lunch and acted mystified, like she hadn’t the slightest idea what he was getting at. “I should be home studying, don’t you think? Or would you like to write my online English essay?”

“See, that’s just it. English essays need inspiration, and the best inspiration for that sort of writing is a trip to the lake.”

“Really, Brandon…I have to get home.” She tried a slightly serious tone. “You’ll see the beach another day.”

But he wouldn’t give up and, by the end of lunch, Bailey agreed to a quick walk along the shore. She left alone, and then picked him up at the back of the school—out of sight of the paparazzi. When she was sure no one was following them, she drove to the lake, and Brandon raised his brow, impressed. “Our Southern California lakes look nothing like this. More like craters in a desert.”

“Sign me up.” She laughed lightly. “Sounds like a great vacation spot.”

“Not really.” Brandon made an exaggerated look. “People rent houseboats and drink enough beer so they don’t notice the surroundings.” He peered out at Lake Monroe. “But this…wow. How cold’s the water.”

“Great in July. Today…a little cooler.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “Lots of memories out here.”

“I’m sure.” Brandon figured she was probably thinking about the young coach, but he didn’t want to ask. This day was about the two of them, no one else. “Let’s take a walk.”

“Okay.” Bailey smiled, the faraway look gone. “Come on. I’ll take you down near the water. There’s a path that’s pretty easy.”

“What?” He jumped out of the car and held his hands up. “I don’t look like I can take on the tougher paths?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Not really.” She hesitated and came up alongside him. “Just kidding. You could probably swim across the lake.”

He puffed out his chest. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” They walked down an earthen path toward the water, and then stayed on a sandy section of shore at the lake’s edge. It was less of a walk and more of a meandering, which suited Brandon fine. He trusted Bailey more than any girl he’d ever known. Now that she’d made time for him, he felt old feelings welling up inside him. Frustration and anger from his childhood. He had a feeling Bailey would listen, and right now—for the first time in years—he wanted to talk about it. “Remember I told you it’d been a long time since I’d been in a Sunday school class?”

Bailey angled her head, not rushed. “I figured you were kidding.”

“Nope.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and stared at the far edge of the lake. “I was raised in the church. until I was fourteen.”

Bailey looked at him, surprised. She must’ve realized this
wasn’t a time to tease. Her tone was gentle, sensitive. “After that?” Her attention was completely on whatever he was about to tell her.

“After that I stopped going,” his tone was tense, the story painful from here. “No one could make me go.”

She let that sink in for a while. Then she turned to him, their pace slower. “So what happened? God suddenly became the bad guy?”

“Not at first. But eventually, yeah. I thought He was.” Bran don could see that better now than ever in his life. Another ben efit of the Bible study with Dayne and Katy.

Bailey’s eyes held no accusation, no judgment. “Maybe start at the beginning.”

“Yeah.” He breathed in deep. Was he really going to tell her all this? It would be easier to pretend he was shallow, but that wasn’t the truth. There was so much more to him, pieces no one else knew about. He exhaled and turned to her, their pace still slower. “The drama club at school…they were holding auditions. My dad wanted me to go out for football. I was the scrawniest kid out there, and the first day I got knocked flat on my back. Couldn’t breathe for half a minute.” He could hardly believe he was telling her this.

“Football’s rough. I always worry that my brothers will get hurt.” Again Bailey was understanding. They reached a fallen log and Bailey sat down. She patted the place beside her. “What happened?”

“I wanted to play. Remember?” He grinned, but his eyes held a pain undimmed by time. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me.” He told her how the coach had pulled him aside and suggested as kindly as possible that football might not be his thing. “The next day I tried out for the school play. Won a lead role. When my dad heard what happened—that I quit football and got a part in the school play—he sat me down and stared at me, real angry.”

“He was mad? Seriously?”

“More than that.” He smiled, more so he wouldn’t get too emotional. Talking about this took him to a place as foreign as the lake spread out before him. He sucked in a quick breath through his nose, and looked away until he was sure his voice was steady. Then he turned to Bailey again. “He asked me if I was gay.” Brandon watched the shock play out on her face. His eyes stung, but he cleared his throat hard, refusing to give in to the tears. “He said theater was for wusses, weak girly guys. He told me God was against people who became actors.”

“He did not!” Bailey’s voice was barely audible over the breeze off the lake. “Brandon, that’s awful.”

“Yeah. It was.” He looked down at the damp sand at their feet. But suddenly he wasn’t on the shore of a beautiful lake with the most amazing girl he’d ever met. He was sitting across from his dad in their family living room, his father’s words exploding through him, shredding his heart and destroying him all over again. He could smell the chili cooking in the kitchen and see his mother watching with furtive glances from her place near the stove.

Again Bailey seemed to know what he was thinking. “What about your mom? Was she home?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, hard so he wouldn’t get sucked back into that scene a moment longer than he needed to be. “She didn’t say anything. Nothing.” He looked at Bailey again. “She looked…embarrassed. Like she couldn’t contradict him, couldn’t…couldn’t stand up for me.”

Bailey put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I…can’t imagine.”

“Yeah. That’s why I gave up on God.” His tone was bitter now, acid and unforgiveness. “Then forget it. Forget all of it.” His anger was building, clawing its way quickly to the surface. “Better to party every night than judge everyone. Like…like my dad.”

“Brandon…”

“No.” He jerked away from her touch. “Never mind.” He didn’t want her sympathy, didn’t want it from anyone. Why had he told her this anyway? Why had he gone and ruined a perfectly good day, probably a perfectly good friendship? No one could understand this sort of detail about him, and now she’d never see him the same way. He stood and walked hard and fast toward the water. When he reached it he stopped and walked a few feet one way then back again the other direction. If he could have jumped in and swum across the lake, he would’ve.

At first she waited, letting him have his space. But then she came to him slowly, quietly until she was at his side. He didn’t want a spew of kind words and her insistence that everything would be okay, that the accusation was a long time ago and certainly his father hadn’t meant it. Didn’t want her words about God being good and kind. He didn’t want that, and she didn’t offer it. Instead she put her arms around his waist and hugged him from the side, leaning her head on his shoulder.

After a while, he put his arms around her too, and they stood that way for a long time. Finally, Brandon led her back to the log and they both sat down again. “Sorry.” He was in control again. Embarrassed, but no longer angry. “It’s just…I haven’t talked about that before.” He looked up just enough to meet her eyes. “Not to anyone.”

She didn’t ask what happened next, but his story came unbidden, the way Brandon figured it needed to come after so many years, after reading in the Bible about being new and finding redemption. From a God who his father had used against him.

“A week later, after my dad had told me the same thing every day, I ran away.”

“Where to?” Bailey’s eyes were the kindest he’d ever seen.

“Four blocks away. To my uncle’s house.” Brandon told her how his uncle Joe was nothing like his dad. And as he told the story, Brandon was there again, cold and sweaty, pounding on
his uncle’s door, a bag of clothes in his arms. “uncle Joe was the roughneck in the family, the guy always getting into scrapes with the law and embarrassing the family. My family…they were the Christians. And they thought I was gay.” His laugh was filled with sorrow, with a pain that still lived in a part of him that would always be that fourteen-year-old boy.

“Did you stay?” Bailey’s eyes were damp. “At your uncle Joe’s?”

“I did.” Even now Brandon relished the freedom that move had given him. No one would call him gay just because he liked to act. His parents threw a fit, and tried several times to force him to come home. He remembered once hearing his mother’s shrill cry from their bedroom over the phone lines. “
You did this, Martin, you drove our son away!”

But in the light of day, she never said a word on his behalf, never once stood up to Martin Paul. After a few months of bringing him back and Brandon running away again, his parents stopped trying. “They didn’t really want me.” He filled his lungs, trying to rid himself of the hurt. “If I couldn’t play football, if I was going to act in the school play…then good riddance.” He frowned, staring at the wet sand. “Let’s just say I never went to church again. I couldn’t imagine a whole building full of people like my dad.” His voice was angry again. “I still can’t.”

In time, his parents signed over custody to his uncle Joe. Living with his uncle’s family, Brandon was free to do whatever he pleased. They had no qualms about him being in a play or drinking with his friends—or doing anything else he felt like doing. Eventually, Brandon moved with his uncle’s family an hour away. He kept acting and, even after he grew taller and stronger, he never went out for the football team again. “See,” he slid his foot close to hers and gave it a slight tap. “Now you know why I wish I could play. The whole
Remember the Titans
thing.”