Fall

Pris looked through her fingers and swore. I loved it.

“Open the door.”

“What if they catch me?”

“Are you ten?” I smirked. “Just don’t make any sounds or turn on any lights. Come let me in.”

“Fine.” She shut her window.

Within minutes she was unlocking the sliding glass door and dragging me silently through the house to the guest room. It was kind of a rush — sneaking in.

When we made it to her room, she slowly closed the door and locked it.

“Oh wow, you planning on doing something naughty? Locking the door.” I shook my head in disapproval. “My, my, what a little hussy I’ve created.”

Her response was to smack me in the chest. “You could have killed yourself!”

Waving her off, I went and sat on the bed. “I was fine.”

“Right. And the board you used broke into a million pieces on the rocky cliff.”

I winced.

“That’s what I thought.” She sat next to me. “So, was it worth it?”

I tilted my head, my eyes scanning her white tank top and short black shorts. “Hell yeah, it was worth it.”

Grumbling, she crawled into bed and went to turn off the light.

“Wait.” I cleared my throat and pulled out the script Peter had sent me. I’d rolled it up and put it in my back pocket so I had to smooth out the pages before I handed them to her. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“What?” She sat up.

“Run lines with me?”

“For?”

“Remember that movie I told you about? The book-to-movie series, the next Twilight, blah, blah.” I waved in the air.

She clapped her hands and grabbed the stack of paper. “Is this it?”

“Yeah, I kind of have to audition for it.”

She dropped the script. “You? They’re making the great Jamie Jaymeson audition?”

“Right?” I threw both hands into the air and ran them through my hair.

Smirking, she jumped out of bed. “I was kidding. Humility doesn’t look so bad on you.”

“Thanks.” I glared.

“So.” She cleared her throat. “What scene are we doing?”

Suddenly nervous, I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Um, it’s the first kiss scene.”

Her cheeks stained red. “Oh.”

“You’re the one I want to do it with.”

“Oh,” she repeated, her cheeks getting redder.

“Please?”

“Well…” Her hands shook slightly. “Since you said please.”

Irritated that she was making me feel nervous and it was my job to act, I tried to focus on something other than the fact that doing this scene with her wouldn’t be acting. At least not for me.

“Just read the lines. I have mine memorized already.” My voice cracked. “Oh, and I have to film it — hold on.” I set up my new iPhone, you know, the one Pris had yet to throw onto the ground, and used the little stand so that it caught our movements in the corner of the room. Luckily, I knew how I was with phones so I always kept an extra.

“What page?” She cleared her throat.

“Seven.”

“I’m Harley?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, don’t laugh because I’m pretty sure I’m going to suck really bad.”

“Impossible,” I muttered under my breath. She was brilliant.

“Start whenever.”

I looked at the camera and counted down three, two, one.

“Zach, you shouldn’t be here. My parents will—”

“Who cares?” I gripped her wrists. “Let them find me. I don’t care. Not anymore.”

“I care,” Pris said gently. “About you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Is that it then?” Her voice took on a softer tone, one I hadn’t heard her use before. “You don’t want me to care about you?”

“No.” My body shook violently. “You should let me leave. You should hate me. You should despise everything that I represent.”

“Is that what you want?”

I released her hands and paced in front of her, my body wild with pent up frustration, as if I was really living the scene. As if I was really Zach, stuck with wanting a girl I knew I had no future with. I couldn’t give her anything. I was scum, poor. I was the town joke.

“Hate me!” I shook her shoulders. “Please, I can’t take it, Harley, I—”

Voice cracking, I touched my forehead to hers.

“I don’t want to hate you,” Pris whispered. Damn, but I believed her — I believed the entire reality of the scene.

“What if I beg you to hate me?”

“I’d be lying to you, to us.”

“Harley…” I cupped her face. “We can’t go back from this. There’s no returning to what we were. My body won’t allow it, my heart wouldn’t survive it.”

“Then don’t.” She gripped my face between her hands. “Don’t leave. Don’t make this about what others think. Keep it about us. What do you feel?” She moved her hands to my chest. “Here. What do you feel here?”

My body trembled. “Afraid.”

“Zach.” Her voice cracked. “Isn’t that what love is?”

My eyes opened. “What are you saying?”