The Cutting Room Floor (23 page)

With Emma, it took even more to get rid of her. For that one, I needed to enlist Tori and her bag of nastiness.

It worked.

And now, I guess my suffering is just.

RILEY

“Whoa,” Stella says, sliding into Libby’s chair. “What did you do to get Libby in such a huff?”

“That girl is losing it. Seriously, losing it.”

“Spill it,” Stella orders.

“Our Libby seems to think that Dez is responsible for all my breakups.” I groan. It’s so ridiculous. “Apparently, she found Dez’s number in Emma’s phone. Then she actually tracked down a few of my exes to ask about me. To find out why we broke up. She thinks Dez is to blame for all of it. She’s painted him into this total mental case.”

I could’ve used her investigation skills with Devlin.

Just then I get a shooting pain behind my eyes and I’m sure my head will explode at any minute.

“Riley, you don’t look so good.”

“I don’t feel so good. My hangover is back.”

“Oooh, that sucks.” Stella gathers our bags and stands up. “Here, come with me.” She links her arm in mine and pulls me upright. “Getting rid of hangovers is my specialty. I know the best cure there is.”

Stella pulls me out the door and I fall into step with her as we walk down the sidewalk. She has a little bounce in her stride that makes me smile, even in my condition. It’s such a happy walk.

I follow her to the diner at the bowling alley a few doors down.

“You’ve got to be joking, Stella.” I hold my head in my hands. “Slamming bowling balls for a hangover?”

She stops to look at me. “We’re not here for the bowling. We’re here for the food.”

We sit at one of the old vinyl booths. I trace the graffiti that’s carved into the table with my fingertips.

T.D. loves H.K.

D.T. Rocks!

Ray is a bitch!

I hate James.

J.S. gives good BJs.

I slam the water the waitress sets down. Stella slides hers over to me and I drink that one as well. I watch as Stella plays with the bands around her wrist—I want to get a closer look at them. There are a few bright rubber bands in the middle of layers of thin leather, colored string, and woven yarn bracelets. Some have small charms on them and some are braided together. I wonder what that’s all about. Do they mean something? Or is she one of those girls who pretends to be all into Kabbalah?

She catches me. “Sobriety bracelets,” she says. “Oh, and a few charity bands.”

I feel like a jerk. “I’m sorry. About the sobriety thing. I mean, sobriety is good, but I didn’t know,” I stumble. “This is so inappropriate, to expect you to help me with my hangover.”

“It’s totally appropriate.” She giggles. “Listen, I don’t judge. Just because I couldn’t handle my booze doesn’t mean other people can’t. And who better to help you over a hangover than an ex-drunk?”

“Oh, Stella.” I drop my head on the table.

“Just kidding.” She nudges me. “I didn’t have it too bad. For me, it was just one party too many and I thought,
this is stupid.
For me, anyway.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I study the menu.

Soon a tiny server covered in two sleeves of tattoos asks for our order.

I open my mouth and Stella puts a hand over my menu.

“Let me,” she says.

I nod.

“Okay, let’s see. I’ll have the huevos and OJ and my friend will have a glass of pickle juice and a BCB with fries.”

“Got it. I’ll get the pickle juice over right away,” the server says, patting my hand.

“See, she knows what’s up,” Stella says.

“Ew, pickle juice? Come on.”

“That, along with a bacon cheeseburger, is the cure-all for a hangover, trust me.”

I shrug, willing to try anything at this point.

“So, were you celebrating the film’s success again last night?” she asks.

“Something like that.”

“It really was awesome, Riley. You’re so talented. I feel like you’re going to do big things.”

“I’m not feeling that way now,” I say, wrinkling my nose at the pickle juice the waitress sets on the table.

“Here,” Stella says, pushing the green liquid forward. “This will help put things into perspective.”

I grab the glass. Stella covers my hand with hers and my stomach does a quick flip. “But,” she adds, “you have to slam it.”

She moves her hand away and I’m left to chug my drink. I close my eyes and open my mouth, letting the liquid flow down my throat. It’s sour and pickley and makes my head tingle.

I open my eyes—and recoil.

It’s Tori, leaning over our table.

“Just as I thought, girls,” Tori says, looking over her shoulder to the Rollers standing in formation behind her. “Riley’s back to her old ways. Sometimes prayer isn’t enough.”

I roll my eyes, too tired for a verbal spar with Tori.

She slaps a few of her dad’s election flyers on the table and glares at me.

“Don’t forget to vote … ladies,” she says on her way out.

I can’t wait until the damn election is over.

Before Tori gets to the door, Stella grabs the flyer, cleans her shoe with it, crumples it in a ball, and chucks it at her.

God, I love this girl.

“Are you okay?”

“I am. She doesn’t even faze me anymore.”

“Good. Now relax and let the potion do its magic.” She leans back in the booth and puts her feet up.

I do the same.

“You know, Riley, for someone who’s supposed to be embarking on a potential hot and heavy love life, you don’t look like you’re enjoying it.”

“I know,” I say, realizing I could use some unbiased advice. “Besides the obvious hangover, I guess I’m just nervous. I mean, after Emma, isn’t going out with a guy weird? Does this mean I’m bi, or am I straight now?” I’m ranting. “I don’t know what to think.”

“There are no rules for this kind of thing, Riley.” Stella puts her hand on mine again. I exhale, feeling like I can breathe a little easier. “Don’t put yourself in a box. And don’t think so much—just do what feels right. ”

“What was it like when you were with a boy?” I ask, hoping I’m not prying too much. “I mean, I didn’t get very far in my previous relationships.”

“Well.” She laughs. “Once you can get past what they’re packing down there, it’s really not
that
different
.
”

Just then, the waitress drops the burger on the table. I can feel my face turning bright red.

How embarrassing. She must’ve heard everything.

Stella and I stare at the pile of meat in front of us. Then Stella shrugs her shoulders and I crack up.

“Oh, God, I can’t even go there right now,” I say, struggling for air.

“You don’t have to,” she says when we’re finally able to calm down. “Just listen to your heart, Riley. I know it sounds cheesy, but really listen. It won’t steer you wrong.”

She pushes my burger over. “Now, eat.”

The high from the weekend is over and school drags on Monday. During third period, I skip Geometry. I can’t face Libby. Or, I don’t want to—which I’m sure is making her feel even more superior than she already does. But I don’t care about that either.

On the way to the auditorium, I have to pass Ms. Dunn’s old classroom. Mrs. Craig is now using it for Statistics. I can’t stand the thought of somebody else using her things so I run by the room, keeping my eyes straight ahead.

Once I get to the stairwell, I see Emma.

“Riley.” She smiles, just the way she used to.

“Hi,” I say, trying to sound uninterested even though every cell in my body is on high alert.

Her face deflates a little but her eyes search mine when she asks, “How’ve you been?”

“Busy.” I shuffle my feet, willing them to hold still. “You know, the film and all.”

“Yeah. You were really great, Riley. Amazing.”

“You came to the screening?” I clear my throat, trying to mask my excitement.

“I was there, just to see your film. Viv wouldn’t let me off for the entire screening. She was so freaked out about the after party—it was an all-hands-on-deck situation.”

“Wow, I’m ah … that’s cool. Thanks for the support.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” she says. And then, as quickly as the wall came down, it goes back up and she looks past me.

“Hello, ladies.” Dez comes up behind me. “What, are you cutting class?” He pokes at my ribs. “Hey Emma, what’s up?”

“I was just leaving,” Emma says, and she leaves so fast I don’t get a chance to say goodbye.

“So, what’s up there?” Dez asks, a little too intense for comfort. Libby’s accusations seep into my head as I look at him—I’m furious that she has me second-guessing him.

“Nothing. I ran into her on my way to the auditorium,” I tell him, shaking off my skepticism. “I’m not feeling Geometry today, so I thought I’d come down here and block a few things for my audition.”

“You’ll be perfect, Riley.”

“No, I still need some work. I really want to be at the top of my game for the Guthrie scouts.”

“You’re going to be great.”

The way he says it makes me almost believe it.

“Will I see you later?” he asks.

I nod, and Dez leans in for a quick peck. But once his lips touch mine, I quickly move back.

He looks at me, resting his hands on my shoulders. “Is that not okay?”

“No,” I stutter. “I mean, yeah—I don’t … I don’t know. I’m not into the whole PDA thing.”

“There’s nobody here. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just nervous about the auditions and seeing Emma. It’s just been a weird day.”

“You don’t still have feelings for her, do you?” He looks pained when he asks.

“No, it’s not that. I don’t know—I just get the feeling that she’s not telling me something.”

“Rye, when things end, they usually end badly. It’s just the way it is. Otherwise they wouldn’t end. You deserve a fresh start.”

I know he’s right. And I want him to be part of that fresh start.

DEZ

Riley moves closer to me and I don’t hesitate. I meet her halfway—probably more than half. Her lips part and mine lock on hers. She smells like cherries and tastes sweet. I close my eyes, this time not worrying about my performance or my guilt or anything. Instead, I pour a lifetime of wanting her, loving her, into the kiss. There’s so much intensity that I feel it in my bones. I glide my fingers along her skin, her hair … and then, wrapping my arms around her, I hold us there in that moment.

“How’s that for a fresh start,” she whispers into my mouth.

I answer her with another kiss. This time, slow and deep, and not quite as gentle.

“I like your thinking, Frost,” I say when I finally unlock my lips from hers. My arms still hold her tight like I’m afraid she’s going to run away. I guess in some ways, I am.

“So, this is what it feels like?” she asks.

“To, what—be with a guy?” I ask, not liking the direction our conversation is taking.

“No, to be wanted.”

“You have no idea,” I whisper in her ear, burying my head in her hair.

But we’re no longer alone. Someone clears their throat, but I keep my eyes on Riley.

“All right, Mr. Brandt, let’s break it up there,” Mr. Green says with a tap on my shoulder.

Riley leaps out of my arms before I have a chance to answer him.

“Move along now,” he says, shooing us away.

I grab Riley’s hand and walk her to the auditorium.

RILEY

It’s hard to concentrate after that kiss, but after Dez heads back to class, I try working through my monologue.

As I mark my way through, I feel a presence. Then I hear a loud thud.

“Sorry,” I hear a girl’s voice call out. She comes out from behind the curtain. It’s Stella.

“Hi, sorry,” she says again. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay. I’m just avoiding Geometry and stressing over the audition.”

“That’s right. The Guthrie posse.”

“Yep, and I’m crazed.” I walk over to her, comforted to be talking to someone who isn’t involved in all the drama in my life. “So, what are you doing?”

“Just getting this place ready for the festival and fixing some of the props for the auditions,” she says.

“Ah, you must be the man behind the curtain.”

“What’s that now?” she asks, confused.

“Like in
The Wizard of Oz
?”

“No, that ain’t me. I’m just the chick who fixes broken stuff.”

And then it strikes me just how pretty Stella is. Maybe that’s what love or lust—or whatever’s going on with me and Dez—does to people. Makes everyone look better, brighter.