The Right and the Real (10 page)

“Yeah, okay.” He plopped down beside me onto the mat. “You doing all right?”

“I guess.” I pressed my chest against my knees again, wrapping my hands around my feet. Now that we finally had time to talk, I wasn’t sure how to start. I wanted to tell him everything: how I’d spent the last four nights in hell, how I missed my dad in spite of everything, and most of all, how scared I was. But we’d always talked about Josh’s problems. When we weren’t making out, I helped him with his English so he wouldn’t flunk and listened to what a mean bastard his dad was. Had we ever even talked about me?

Josh gave up on touching his toes and crouched on the balls of his feet, bouncing. The real reason he wasn’t limber was because he only stretched for about thirty seconds every day.

“Ummm…Josh…I’ve been thinking…this whole secret thing—”

His phone buzzed in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Yo,” he said, answering it.

Derrick’s voice on the other end was so loud I could hear him through the phone. “Wrestling meet was canceled, dude. Their gym ceiling caved in or something.”

We heard one of the guys from the team yell, “They’re a bunch of pussies!” And everyone else cheered.

“You’re kidding,” Josh said.

“Not even. Coach wants us to lift today since we’re not wrestling.”

Josh’s eyes just about popped out of his head. “In the weight room?”

“Duh,” Derrick said. “Where else?” He made his voice go all high and squeaky. “Boys, do you want to work out in the
theater
?”

We heard a lot of laughing. The drama department is always an easy target for the jocks.

Josh yanked me to my feet and started pushing me toward the only door.

“So you gonna meet me, dude?” Derrick asked.

“Already there, bro,” Josh said.

“Cool. See you in thirty.”

All the tension in Josh’s body deflated from relief. “Thirty minutes? You’re still on the bus?” he asked.

“No, dude. Thirty
seconds
. We’re in the parking lot.”

Josh snapped his phone shut. “We’ve got to get you out of here,” he said.

“It’s a little late for that,” I pointed out. “There’s only one exit.”

“You have to hide.”

“What? Josh, no!”

But he was already herding me back across the room. “Lie down there,” he said, pushing me between a roll of sweaty rubber mats and the wall. “I’ll cover you up with stuff from the lost and found.”

“Jo—” I said as I got a face full of smelly sweatshirts and God knew what. I shoved them away and tried to sit up.

“Do you want me to get pulled out of school and lose my football scholarship for next year?” Josh whispered, forcing me back down.

“No, but—”

“Every night my dad asks Derrick if I’m seeing you.”

“He’d cover for you,” I said.

“He’d try, but he’s a terrible liar.”

The door at the other end of the room banged open, and the wrestlers’ voices echoed around us, bouncing off the mirrors. “Fine,” I hissed, lying back down. “But get rid of them fast.”

Josh sat on the stack of mats, squeezing me against the wall until I could barely breathe. From above me, I heard him whisper, “We’ll just have to wait. I’ll make sure Derrick and I leave last, so you’ll know you’re clear.”

This was crazy. Did Josh really think I would stay crushed up here like a partier at a rave for the next hour while a bunch of Neanderthals tried to outlift and outstink each other? This secret thing totally blew, and I was over it. Nothing was stopping me from just getting up and walking out right then. Nothing except the fact I couldn’t move because Josh was holding the mats against me with his weight.

I lay there fuming. This was it. We were done. No more secrets, no more stupid Right & Real Church. I was over him. And I didn’t care
how sweet his smile was or how sparkling his eyes were or how my body melted under his touch. I didn’t…really, I didn’t.

Dammit.

I’m not proud of it, but I didn’t move. I stayed there, my skin absorbing the sweaty odor of all those guys, my ears assaulted by the gross things they said about a couple of girls they thought were hot, and my legs going numb.

Finally, about the time I thought I’d either pass out or find a pen in one of the random sweatshirt pockets and stab myself in a major artery, they left. I heard the door clang shut behind them, cutting off their voices, and when I moved all the coats, I discovered I was in total darkness. Great. Since when did the guys do what the sign by the door said?

Last one out, turn off the lights.

I struggled to get up, massaging feeling back into my legs. As I tried to get my bearings and figure out a path to the door where I wouldn’t get killed by dumbbells or trip over a treadmill, the door opened and I froze.

“Bro! I forgot my sweatshirt,” I heard Josh yell back toward the gym. “Meet me at the car.”

He flipped the switch, and light flooded my eyes so I was temporarily blind. By the time I could see, Josh was standing over me. “Jamie, you’re the best. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night. I’ll take you somewhere nice. I promise.” Before I could say anything, he’d scooped me up, giving me a bear hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you so, so much. You’re the one person I can count on in my life.”

He set me down and sprinted after Derrick.

I HAD FIRST NOTICED THE REGIS DELUXE MOTEL
when I’d gone to the Coffee Klatch on Saturday, because it was only a few blocks away, on dicey Sandy Boulevard. Ever since I’d moved in, I’d been haunting the little café, avoiding my dingy, cold room, stretching a cup of overpriced black coffee out as long as I could.

I did my homework on one of the couches, and every once in a while, when I thought I could spare an extra two dollars, I’d surf the web for fifteen minutes and answer e-mails, IM’ing Krista and Liz so they wouldn’t ask why I was never online anymore. I’d already told them my cell was broken and Dad said I’d have to wait until next month to get a new one because then I’d be eligible for a free phone if he signed me up for a new contract. I’d totally made that up, but they bought it because it’s not like they were keeping track of how long it’d been since I’d gotten my last one.

The cute guy, Trent, who had leapt over the counter to get my coffee that first night I’d gone into the café, worked the morning shift, and so I started dropping in before school too. It wasn’t like I wanted to date him or anything, because I had Josh, but he was funny. And he had those floppy bangs I was a sucker for. I could imagine myself
pushing them out of his eyes for him, which I knew was totally wrong, but still…The real bonus was Trent didn’t know anything about me, which made him safe to talk to. I was anonymous at the Coffee Klatch.

On Friday morning I sat there sipping my lukewarm coffee and filling out job applications for fast-food places. I’d already turned in about a dozen apps to the stores at the mall, but every place I’d tried told me they didn’t hire in February. Fact was, they were laying people off. It was going to be fast food or nothing. At least I’d get discounted meals.

Trent came over to clear the table in front of me. “I’m starting to think you’re homeless,” he said.

I’d been kind of dozy, but that woke me right up. After five days of living in the skanky motel, I was still too scared to undress in my room in case someone broke in, so I’d been showering after dance class instead. I’d put a bunch of mousse in my hair this morning, but instead of the cool bed-head look I was going for, it was just flat and greasy. The hour I’d spent as the filling inside a stinky wrestling-mat burrito yesterday hadn’t done much for it either. I probably did look like a street person.

“I have roommate issues,” I said.

“Been there.”

Trent had an old-fashioned movie camera tattooed at the base of his neck, which I hadn’t seen the first time we’d met, and I’d been meaning to ask him about it, but before I could, he said, “Are you seriously thinking of working at Rotten Ronnie’s?”

I looked at him blankly and he tapped the job application in my lap. “The Golden Arches doesn’t seem like your style.”

“Yeah, well. Not a lot of choice this time of year.”

“True. Plus there’s the bonus of the outfit they give you. Mustard gold polyester. There
is
something to be said for a girl in uniform.” He made the hourglass shape with his hands. “Oh, yeah. Hubba hubba. Plus, free Whoppers.”

“That’s Burger King.”

He smirked, and I saw that sexy oh-so-slightly-crooked tooth again. “I know,” he said. He stacked a few dishes onto a tray. “Taco Hell is always hiring.”

“Ugh, that assembly line? Slapping refried beans onto tortillas?” I said. “I so could not do that.”

“Snob.” He grinned. “You can’t get a job anyway.”

“Why not?” He probably thought no one would hire me because of my hair issues.

“You’d miss me too much,” he said.

I couldn’t stop my smile. Some actress I am.

“I’d love to stay here all day and fascinate you with my titillating conversation,” Trent said, “but duty calls.”

As he leaned across me to pick up the tray, his knee touched my leg so lightly I wondered if I’d imagined it. A little zing went all the way through me, regardless. And yeah, I’ll admit it. I watched him walk away, thinking about touching his tattoo the whole time. But at least I felt guilty about it.

After he left, I was kind of bored, and the café was slammed, so to keep myself from falling asleep, I ditched the applications and grabbed a bunch of dirty mugs.

“Don’t make me fall in love with you,” Trent said when I dumped them off at the busing station.

I managed to suppress my smile this time and grabbed a tray. I was hoping he would think I didn’t hear him, but I was pretty sure
my pink face gave me away. After we finished clearing, another rush of people came in for their morning fix and Trent had to help behind the counter. I grabbed a rag and started wiping down the tables, but they looked way worse than when I started because the cloth was cold and wet, and it smeared everything around.

“Ummm…that’s the floor rag,” Trent said, taking it from me after he’d served everyone.

“Oh, sorry. I was just—”

He grabbed my arm dramatically and pulled me in close. “No one will ever know,” he whispered into my ear. “I’ll take your secret to the grave.”

“My hero,” I said, playing along. But then I realized exactly how close we were standing to each other and how shallow my breathing had become, and I broke away from him, grabbing a stray spoon off the floor.

“How come you always talk like you’re in a movie?” I asked, trying to make my voice sound casual. “I bet you watch those old black-and-white ones on TV late at night. Or I know! You want to be an actor.”

He took the spoon from me and held it up like a microphone. “No. And no,” he said. “I like art films and action movies, the occasional rom com, and even the ones that make you cry, but not old black-and-whites. And I’m strictly behind the camera.”

“Really? Cool. I want to be an actress.”

We stood there grinning at each other so long, we whizzed right past
this is
so
awkward getting to know you,
sailed directly through
goofy but having fun,
and landed at
I should leave now because I have a boyfriend
.

“I better go,” I said.

He shoved the spoon into his apron pocket and brushed back
his hair. “Yeah, I need to make more coffee or whatever it is we do here.”

I gathered up my applications, trying to smother a smile the whole time. This was totally wrong. Josh trusted me. And he should. I was completely trustworthy. I told myself I’d been under a lot of stress the last two weeks and so I was just having a bit of fun. Besides, if Trent was into filmmaking, then he was probably a lot like all the theater guys…a harmless flirt.

I used the bathroom before leaving, but still couldn’t do anything with my hair. When I came out, Trent was waiting for me.

“Here.” He held out a tall paper cup with a lid. “Mocha.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

“On the house. For helping out.”

“Thanks.” I took the hot cup and passed it back and forth from hand to hand. Like the first time he’d given me a free drink, I got all teary. What was wrong with me? But it was so sweet, I couldn’t help it. Trent stared at me, his head tilted until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“What?” I asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m trying to decide whether to ask you out on a date or offer you a job.”

“Oh, a job!” I said. “I want a job!”

Trent whirled around and squatted down to look under a table. “Did you see that?” he asked.

“Ummm? What?”

He stood up. “That was my ego scurrying for cover.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. He’d made me giggle more this morning than I had in weeks. “Oh, sorry,” I said. I tried to force down my smile. “I mean, a date would be…ummm…I just…I really need a job.”

“Fine. Break my heart,” he said, all business. “So the deal is this: I need another person for the weekday morning shift. You up for it?”

“Can you do that?” I asked. “Just hire me?”

“OF COURSE I CAN,” he said in one of those deep movie-announcer voices. “I AM THE SHIFT MANAGER!”

I just shook my head at him. He was crazy.

“Besides,” he said in his regular voice, “today’s Becky’s last day. She quit without notice. Pay’s not great. Minimum wage plus tips. But you never have to ask customers to supersize their drinks.”

“When do I start?” I asked.

“You can train this afternoon with our other manager, Amanda,” he said. “Come back at four thirty, okay?”

“Yeah. Definitely. I’ll be here,” I said.

“DON’T BE LATE,” he said in his shift-manager voice.

“I WON’T!” I answered back.

Finally something was going my way.

As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, Krista was driving me insane about getting in to drama school. Now that she knew she was going to New York for sure, she was dying to make some concrete plans. The whole admissions letter thing gnawed at me constantly already, without her bugging me too.

At morning break, I went to the lab and signed onto a computer. The drama school’s website had an eight-hundred number, so I called them from the pay phone by the gym. I got connected right away to a guy I knew named Stevie. He was a student at the school and worked part time in the office. We’d met when I’d gone to New York to audition last fall.