The Cutting Room Floor (18 page)

Dez squeezes my hand.

It feels like I can’t get enough air into my lungs and I feel the heat inside of me beginning to trickle out. All the emotions I feel refuse to be contained any longer. I let a few tears drop, and I can breathe again.

I feel so … I don’t know, loved or something. But now it’s not just the show or the crowd. It’s the boy next to me, holding my hand.

Something has passed between us tonight. We’ve crossed over our neat little line. The line that was drawn when I first came out to Dez, when I finally had the courage to tell him I liked girls. It wasn’t like he was upset or mad, but I can’t describe the look on his face. Disappointment, maybe? I don’t know, but ever since then, there’s been a wall be-tween us.

After the last film ends and the last crew takes their bows, we leave the auditorium and Dez picks me up and carries me out to the parking lot, laughing like I’ve never seen before. Not since we were kids, anyway. It fills me up, and I feel a current coming off him.

Dez pulls me into the shadows, and this time when his lips meet mine, it’s no accident.

DEZ

CUE THE DANCE NUMBER

Dance montage from (500) DAYS OF SUMMER, SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN, BIG, and NAPOLEON DYNAMITE.

VOICEOVER:

DESMOND
The night is perfect and in my mind, I’m dancing. I am Joseph Gordon-Levitt dancing to “You Make My Dreams Come True” in (500) DAYS OF SUMMER. I am Gene Kelly swinging from lamp posts in SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN. I’m Tom Hanks playing “Heart and Soul” on that giant keyboard in BIG. I’m Jon Heder in a “Vote for Pedro” shirt dancing onstage in NAPOLEON DYNAMITE. It’s the best moment of my life.

I am completely and totally high and out of my mind. Our film, Riley, the night. It’s more than I deserve. But I don’t care. I’m going to enjoy every second of it.

Riley’s smile on the stage knocks me out and I know I’d do anything to hang on to it. After the final film is over and the crew takes their bows, I grab Riley, flip her over my shoulder, and run out the doors. I could run like this forever.

With her.

Or, maybe not.

I suddenly have an immediate need to see her face.

I duck under the awning where it’s dark and quiet and I let her down.

I move in so I can see her smile again, but it’s gone.

She swallows and stares up at me.

My body goes on autopilot. I have no control as I wrap her in my arms. I tip my head and kiss her. Slowly, gently, I try to hold back a little. I try not to think about how I’ve lived a lifetime of wanting her.

I stop and look at her. That’s when the guilt rises from the pit of my stomach. All the way up my throat. I can taste it.

I have to tell her. I’m going to end this now. I don’t want her this way.

“Rye, I need to tell you something.”

She laughs and deepens her voice. “He says, breathless.”

I smile, because I love when she plays this game and talks in director-speak. She’s perfect and this is perfect. How can I ruin it?

Then she looks at me, worried. “What? Am I doing something wrong?”

I shake my head and continue playing her game. “She looks up, pulling him forward.”

I move in, kiss her again, and whisper, “You are perfect.”

“He says with laughter in his eyes,” she answers back.

“I’m serious.” I rub her shoulders.

I messed up,
I say in my head, because my mouth can’t form the words.
I lied to you. I’ve hurt you.

“I don’t deserve you,” I continue.

That is what it really comes down to after all this time.

“Don’t.” She puts her fingers to my lips.

Then, I know it’s too late. I can’t tell her now. Not when she might finally want me too.

RILEY

After the crowd finds me and Dez, and the last of the hugs and high-fives have been given, it’s time for the after party. We all head toward Caleb’s VW camper, and Dez gets pulled ahead.

“Enjoy it now, Riley,” Tori says. She’s almost jogging to catch up to me and has a fake smile painted on her face.

“Okay, I will. Thanks, Tori,” I chirp, knowing what she said was not a compliment.

“It’s pretty easy to look good when your only competition are the idiots at school. Wait until the festival.”

“And when did you become a film critic?”

“Exactly. If I can tell a film is junk, imagine what the experts will think.”

Leave it to Tori to ruin a great night. I try to blow her off but can’t help thinking,
what if she’s right?

“Riley,” Dez yells from the front of the pack. “Come on.”

I look at Tori and decide to let her insults go without a reply. It seems to work, because she just sulks away.

Toward a black SUV.

Will’s SUV.

In seconds, I’m back on the case.
I was with Tori that night.
That’s what Dez said. But what if that’s what she wanted? An alibi. Maybe she had Will do her dirty work. Maybe they’re in on it together.

Or, now that I’m out of the picture, maybe Will is going to be her new church project.

Of course, that makes the most sense.

Just let it go, Riley.
Dez is right—I have to stop.

I catch up to the crew and we pile into Caleb’s camper, jumping around like a pack of wild kids who forgot to take their meds.

Caleb wastes no time as he retrieves his stash from one of the cabinets under the seat and pops the corks off three different bottles of the cheapest champagne you can get at Lee’s Liquor.

“To us.” He takes a swig out of the bottle and passes it around.

“To us,” we echo. We follow suit and drink from the bottle.

Caleb pulls out a stack of to-go cups and he and Dez begin concealing the contraband.

Dez hands me my glass, clinking the top of it with his.

“Uh, wow, Rye.” He maneuvers himself next to me on the back bench. “You were amazing. Off the charts good.”

Of course I know he’s not talking about my performance in the film, so I laugh and play along. “Look who’s talking,” I tell him. “You could get into any school you want with your skills.”

Caleb gives me a knowing glance as he continues in party-host mode. He moves to the table and dumps out a box of eight-track tapes. No lie. Big, black, clunky eight-tracks.

I guess, when in a VW …

“Okay, we have Jim Croce, Simon and Garfunkel, and Tony Orlando and Dawn.” He flips through the relics.

“Jim Croce,” Dez yells, surprising the rest of us. I couldn’t pick out even one of those guys in a lineup.

“I never knew you were a fan of the oldies,” I tease.

“Just wait and you’ll see,” he says. “Rocking back to the seventies is pretty cool.”

“Jim Croce?” Caleb asks. “Can do.” He leans over the seat and blasts “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” through the speakers
.

Dez stands up, holds the empty champagne bottle for his microphone, and starts singing and shaking his butt. I think it’s about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I have no idea how he even knows the words to the song, but it’s pretty good.

After the first round of the chorus, Glory and I have it down, so we get behind Dez and sing back-up.

I laugh so hard my stomach hurts.

Caleb moves on to Simon and Garfunkel and we all sit for “Bridge over Troubled Water” and chug our champagne. But by the time “The Sound of Silence” comes on, the crowd is restless and Glory is pretending to slit her wrists, so Caleb puts in Tony Orlando and Dawn. We all stand and rock out to “Knock Three Times,” pounding on the roof of the camper until it feels like we might tip it over.

“Shit, guys,” Glory interrupts, checking her phone. “We need to move.”

I pout.

The thought of our next destination puts a damper on my mood, even though I appreciate the gesture. The owner of Java House offered to host a party for all the film teams the night of the screening, but I don’t want to go. Like I have a choice.

Caleb, our faithful host and babysitter, climbs in the driver’s seat and pulls out of the lot. He only had a few sips of bubbly, so I’m confident we’ll get there in one piece. The rest of us, however … well, no comment. We continue the party in the back while Caleb drives us to the Java House.

Dez and I sit in the corner booth in the VW. He refills my glass with the cheap bubbly. It’s sweet and carbonated and calms my nerves—which are out of control. I’m not sure if it’s the possibility of seeing Emma or Libby at Java House or the close proximity to Dez. I slam another glass quickly, closing my eyes as the carbonation pricks at my throat.

“Hold on there, miss.” Dez stacks his cup in my empty one. “Slow down. Our public is waiting for us, remember?”

Crap, that’s right. Why not add my parents to the mix too?

Dez puts his arms around me and I can’t tell if it’s making things better or worse.

DEZ

“It’s just a party, Rye,” I say, bumping her hip when we get out of the camper. Within seconds of arriving at the coffee shop, she’s gone from laughing and dancing to pacing and biting her nails. She’s freaking out, while it’s one of the best nights of my existence.

We walk toward the old brick building with the neon orange sign reading
JA HOUSE
. Even though the Java House is one of the more successful businesses in the Heights, it still looks ghetto.

“Yeah, I know,” Riley says, running her hand through her hair. Something I hope to do later. “Do I seem tipsy to you?”

I put my hands on her cheeks, tip her head back, and dramatically assess her eyes. I make a funny face, trying to get her to loosen up. “No, you’re just fine,” I whisper in her ear. She laughs, but I’m not convinced she’s okay.

We walk into Java hand-in-hand. It’s not unusual for us to act like a couple—holding hands, sitting close and whatnot. Nobody really knows what’s going on.

For now, it’s our delicious secret.

We walk to the back room, where there are a dozen round tables and a buffet set up special for the event. Riley’s hand trembles. She was having a great time before, and now our night is in jeopardy. I can’t wait to get her out of here but it’s going to be a while yet. I squeeze her hand and will her the strength she needs to get through it.

All the film teams are milling around the parents and teachers. Cameras flicker, bodies collide in embraces, and sounds of congratulations fill the room.

The only person not in motion is Emma.

She gives me a sour feeling in my gut.

I’ve waited so long for this night. For Riley. I don’t plan to let anyone get in our way.

Especially Emma.

She stands waiting by the buffet, her eyes glued to Riley.

I lift Rye’s hand and turn her to me. “Time to mingle, babe. Why don’t you take the left side of the room and I’ll take the right.”

She nods. “Good idea. I’ll stop by our parents’ table first. Look at my mom, she’s ready to burst.”

I can hear Joan squeal from across the room. That should keep Riley busy for a while. I watch as her parents envelope her in their arms and pull her into the center of their circle of friends. Once she’s out of sight, I catch up with Emma.

She starts biting her lip when she sees me approaching.

“Hi there, Emma,” I say casually.

“Desmond,” she answers back.

“Think it’s a good idea to be here lurking in the shadows?” I say under my breath.

“I didn’t have a choice, Dez. My boss made me work to-night.”

“All right, then can you just work and stop with the puppy dog eyes? Riley’s going to see you.”

She turns her back on me and stirs the concoction in the buffet pan. “You don’t get it.” She faces me again and her bottom lip quivers. “You don’t know how hard this has been on me.” She reaches for my arm.

“I’m sorry, Emma. I really am, but it’s time to give it a rest and leave us alone. It’s all over now.”

Marcus moves between us. I jump a little, not having heard him approach.

“What’s over?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just the filming and first screening. Feels good, doesn’t it?” I slap him on the back.

He flashes me a warning with his eyes and puts his arm around Emma. He’s possessive and cold. “Yeah, now I have more time for this one.” He tips his head to her.

“Yes you do,” I say, searching for an excuse to get away. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

I quickly make an exit and go back to my rounds. The sooner we make our appearances, the sooner Riley and I can leave and be alone.

We spend the next hour mingling and I watch Riley from across the room. She smiles and laughs with people, turning red at their praise. Every now and then, she sneaks a look at me.