by B. Celeste
My fists tighten on my lap. “Are you kidding me right now? I gave you privacy because I trust you. So, no. I’m not acting for once in my goddam life. If you wanted to know something about me, you could have just asked without going behind my back. And really? You honestly wish I slept with somebody else? I can’t be the only one who hears how ridiculous this conversation is.”
She leans forward. “Would you have answered if I asked? Be honest with yourself. That’s one thing you’ve never been good at being.”
I scoff and walk into the kitchen for a beer from the fridge. Taking a moment to collect myself, I crack the lid and grab a bottle of water for her before joining her back at the table. “I’m not saying that I don’t have my fair share of issues. I just want what’s best for us, and that’s not keeping this charade up.”
“Charade,” she repeats, murmuring in Greek. Yet another reason we don’t work. Shouldn’t I have picked up the language? Learned a thing or two? I don’t know what her or her family says unless she translates.
I take a swig of my drink and set it down, meeting her distant gaze. “Have you read the book that the movie is based on?”
“Why would I do that?”
I lean back. “Because you’ll see why I took the role. The story is one a lot of people can resonate with. I’m connected to it. Not just because I knew Kinley in the past, but because I know the characters. Ryker…” I lift my shoulders and play with my beer bottle. “He’s the kind of role that I’ll be proud of for the rest of my life because he represents the kind of man I want to be. If you read the book, maybe you’ll understand what I can’t seem to put to words.”
The tip of her tongue swipes slowly across her bottom lip. “Let me get this straight. You want me to read your ex-girlfriend’s novel?”
“It’s not—”
“You’ve lost it, Callum.”
I gesture to her with my hand. “That. Why do you insist on calling me by my last name instead of my first? If anyone should call me Corbin, it’s my fucking wife.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” She opens the bottle of water I gave her. “The name just suits you. Are you seriously angry over something so silly?”
“And what about you?”
She just blinks.
I grip the beer. “Why didn’t you take the name when we got married if you like it so much? You insisted on keeping yours and I respected that.”
“People know me as Lena Dasani.”
Seeing that we’re going nowhere with this, I tap the paperwork. “This needs to happen. It’s about you and me and nobody else. We don’t love each other, Lena. We don’t even share the same last name after all this time. We spend more time apart than together, and half the time we’re arguing over why that is.”
She leans back in her chair after crossing one leg over the other. “Don’t lie to me like you lie to yourself, Corbin. This has everything to do with somebody else.”
“Don’t bring her—”
She unzips her bag and pulls something out of it, dropping a large yellow envelope on the table in front of me. Hesitantly taking it, I reach inside and pull out pictures. Pictures of me. Pictures of Kinley. Pictures of us together.
I go through one by one, jaw ticking over what I’m seeing. My eyes dart up, lips parted, as I lock my gaze with her victorious smirk. She looks vindictive. It gives me pause for a moment, wondering what exactly I ever saw in her. I come up blank. “What the hell are these, Lena?”
She scoffs. “Don’t be stupid.”
Glancing back down at a picture of Kinley walking into my trailer on set, my eye twitches. Fingers clenching around the image, I say, “I don’t know who you are anymore.”
Her chair scrapes back as she stands, grabbing the bottle of water. “You know how much my reputation means to me. It’s why we’ve managed to make this work for so long. I will not be made a fool of because of your actions.”
“What do you want from me?” I growl, staring at the stranger standing there. Her pride is hurt, and she wants to punish me. I get it. That doesn’t mean I understand what her endgame is.
She unclips her sunglasses from her shirt and slides them on. Her lips form the fakest smile I’ve ever seen, and I wonder how many times she’s flashed me it without me even realizing. “You can’t give me what I want anymore. But perhaps we can come to an agreement.”
An agreement?
“What are you talking about?”
She positions her purse over her shoulder and grips the strap. “We don’t need to be like other cliché celebrity couples who don’t last. Let the public think we’re happy. Behind closed doors we can do whatever we want.” She shrugs. “With whomever we want.”
My jaw locks. “Absolutely not.”
She hums and backs up. “Then I guess you and your little toy are going to be very unhappy with the results.”
I throw down the pictures she gave me and pick up the divorce papers. “Don’t do this, Lena. You’re better than that.”
She laughs and turns her back to me. “I could say the same thing about you. I never took you as a cheater, but here we are. Consider my offer, husband. It’s the only way you’ll protect your side piece from a world of hurt.”
The door opens and closes before I can get another word in, leaving me with a new type of anger I’ve never felt before. Staring down at the pile of pictures scattered in front of me, I realize some of these are the same ones the press released over the past month.
“Motherfucker,” I growl, grabbing my beer bottle and throwing it as hard as I can against the wall. The sound of glass shattering is music to my ears as I shakily gather the pictures and shove them back into the envelope.
Grabbing my phone, I dial my manager’s number and rest my forehead in my palm. He picks up on the first ring. “I need you to do me a favor. Don’t ask any questions. Get me?”
He curses. “What did you do?”
Walked away from Kinley Thomas.
Chapter Nine
Kinley / 17
Zach startles me by draping an arm over my shoulder as I walk down the school hall. He pulls me in and rustles my hair until I jab his ribs with my elbow. He knows I hate it when he does that.
“Kinley,” he greets. “You’re still coming to the game tonight right? You promised and I’d hate to guilt trip you.”
My eyes roll as I stop at my locker. “You love guilt tripping people. You remind Corbin every week that you went to see his play on the day he didn’t show up.”
“He deserves it.”
He’s not wrong. Corbin made up missing the birthday dinner he promised me that night by taking me out the day after and then surprising me at his house with a cake that his mother made. She took pictures of all of us, but most of the ones featuring me had my messy hair in a bun, and an even messier smile painted on my face.
One of the pictures is hanging in the living room at home. Mom told me I looked pretty, but I saw past the sliver of teeth showing in the smile I gave the camera. Corbin had gotten a text from one of the girls he shot with, Dalia, and was busy talking to her about another interview they had together. I watched him the whole time his mother took pictures, trying not to be jealous or nervous that he’d forget about me because he had better people to befriend.
If I admit that Corbin’s schedule makes me nervous, my family will ask if supporting him when he leaves is worth it. I ask myself that too, but I promised to support him no matter what just like he did me. Sometimes, though, it feels like I support him more than he does me.
I think of the Oscars and the RITA Awards—of all the things we said we’d do together. It replants the seed of hope in the pit of my stomach that uprooted when doubt crept in to begin with.
I move out from under Zach’s arm as I grab my bag and stuff some books inside it. “I already told you I’d be there.”
He opens my locker door wider and examines the pictures and trinkets inside. Corbin taped a selfie of us together in the door next to a picture he took
of me writing during one of our study sessions. There’s one of just him holding up a script and giving me his signature smirk, his silver eyes full of mischief that brighten them. He also put the origami bird from winter formal on the little shelf by my pencil case.
“You guys are gross,” he states, leaning his shoulder against the locker next to mine. “I thought he was going to rip my arm off when I stole you from him during the dance.”
I giggle at the memory of a very irritated Corbin watching us dance around the room. Zach was just playing around, but Corbin made sure not to let me out of his sight the rest of the night.
My eyes go to his briefly before I finish getting ready to leave for the day. “He told me you liked me a while ago.”
He hums, face flashing with something unreadable before he actually says a word. “Is that so?”
“Yep.” When he doesn’t say anything, I close my locker and untangle my hair from my jacket and backpack straps. “I told him that was silly. We’re friends, right?”
Zach’s expression lightens as he nudges my shoulder. “Of course. Tell your guard dog he can stop trying to pee on you. The school gets it.”
My nose scrunches. “That’s disgusting.”
He shrugs and falls into step with me as we weave our way through the crowds of eager students trying to start their weekend. “It’s true though. Admit it.”
I don’t.
“You could stay for practice,” he suggests, once we’re downstairs. “Some people watch us warm up. You could just chill until the game at six.”
I look at the clock and make a disgruntled face. “That’s three hours away. What am I supposed to do for three hours?”
“Watch me. Duh.”
A new arm wraps around my shoulders, tugging me into a firm side that smells vaguely of the French vanilla coffee he consumes to stay awake these days. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Russo, but she doesn’t want to watch you more than she has to.”
Zach smirks at me. “Is he right, Kin?”
I swat Corbin until he drops his arm. “I don’t want to wait until the game starts. I’ll just come back for it. I’ve got to study anyway and try getting some writing done.”
Corbin reaches for my hand and intertwines our fingers together. Zach notices the gesture and winks at me before backing up and barking. Loudly.
My face heats as a few people start joining him for no reason other than conformity. I just shake my head and wave him off as Corbin squeezes my hand.
“I don’t know why I’m friends with him,” he muses, walking us to the front doors.
“Because he’s nice?”
The distant howling coming from the boy’s locker room behind us makes me giggle.
“Dude’s weird.”
I shrug. “So are we. We just don’t bark.”
Corbin laughs. “Want to grab something to eat before we get some homework done? I can order us a pizza.”
“Twizzlers too?” My face brightens with anticipation of my favorite addiction.
Corbin stops. “When have I not gotten you Twizzlers when we go somewhere?”
“Well—”
He holds up his hand. “Beside that one time I almost forgot to grab them before we checked out. You didn’t even have to say anything before I snatched a package up from under the counter. I’m starting to think I should try cutting you off though. You’re obsessed.”
My hand goes to my chest. “That’s like trying to get you off caffeine. There will never be a day when I don’t consume my weight in Twizzlers, Corbin Callum. Remember that when you have to tailor my formal dress to fit me properly for the Oscars.”
His eyes light up as he leans down and kisses me softly. “We’re going to be the couple that the world can’t stop talking about one day, Little Bird. We’ll be famous, in love, and ready to conquer anything.”
I nibble on my bottom lip when I hear the L word before getting on my tippy-toes and pecking his lips. “Bribe me with Twizzlers, and I’ll be there.”
He guides us to his Jeep hand-in-hand.
He says we’ll be in love someday.
The flutter in my stomach says I’m already there.
The last few months of the school year pass by too quickly. Impending awareness of what comes after graduation lingered in every post-high school conversation I found myself in at lunch with Zach and Corbin. It was all they talked about while I sat there trying not to show how nervous it made me to know they’d be leaving.
But I was happy for them. Zach got accepted to a local college on a sports scholarship that he was excited about, and Corbin made plans with his acting coach about taking his career to the next step. He told me he had big plans that someone he worked with on the movie was helping him with but won’t tell me what. That makes my fear of what comes next worse.
I brush off all the wariness because it gets me nowhere. Instead, I focus on the sweat clinging to my forehead as I search the sea of forest green caps and gowns for the dark hair and silver eyes I’m here for. How many times has Corbin told me in the past two weeks that this isn’t the end? Every time we hang out it always boils down to my nerves getting in the way of having fun. I can’t focus on the movies we put in because all I think about is him, and when we do something intimate my mind gets lost in how I may not feel his touch for much longer. I bottle up every thought because there’s nobody I can voice it to without feeling like an idiot. My family would tell me I’m too consumed, and Corbin would tell me I’m overthinking.
I’m guilty of both.
Forcing myself away from the rabbit hole I’m quickly jumping down again, I lock away my worry and celebrate Corbin’s big day instead. The room is stifling hot from all the bodies crammed in to watch the commencement ceremony, but it’s worth it to see the bright expression on Corbin’s face as he locks eyes with me from where he’s positioned below.
Lifting my wrist, I point to the blue paper bird resting on it. He smirks and does the same, moving aside his long gown sleeve to reveal the white bird.
Mrs. Callum pats my knee and smiles as she listens to the last speaker give their mundane inspirational speech that I want nothing more than to fast forward through. She leans in and whispers, “That will be you next year, darling.”
Nibbling on my inner cheek, I watch the superintendent take the podium to begin handing out diplomas. When the guidance counselor confirmed I’d have the credits needed to graduate next year, Corbin took me to one of my favorite bookstores and bought me whatever I wanted to celebrate. He’d been proud because he used his first check from the movie.
We both celebrated our victories.
It was short lived when the dreadful life-after-high school conversation filled every dinner conversation following the news that I’d be graduating sooner. Gavin thought it was cool, but Mom kept asking what I planned on doing.
College has never been in my plans, no matter how many times I pretended to be a teacher when I was younger. Dreams change. Writing has been the endgame for a lot longer. But telling her that always leads to yet another meal where I shut down because I don’t want to share anything about myself that just leads to disapproval.
“You have to go to college, Kinley.”
“Gavin didn’t.”
“Gavin knew what he wanted to do.”
“I’ll be fine if I don’t go to college.”
And then she said it.
“If you don’t go to college the only thing you’ll accomplish when you’re older is how to flip the perfect burger.”
Dad remained silent.
Gavin just frowned.
I smile at Corbin’s mom. “I’m looking forward to it,” I tell her honestly, thinking of the second I can go somewhere far away from here.
When Corbin’s name is called, I grab the sign from the floor in front of me and stand up as he shakes the man’s hand and accepts his diploma. He, his parents, and I all cheer him on as I wave around the paper in my hands.
He looks up.
And l
aughs.
In big bold letters, the sign says Corbin Callum’s Biggest Fan.
Halfway to his seat, he stops in the middle of the stage and takes a bow. Even his father laughs and shakes his head over his son’s theatrics. Some of the other families chuckle as Corbin finds his seat again.
After the ceremony ends, we wait for the graduating class to walk outside before everyone follows suit. The fresh air makes me sigh a breath of relief as I look for Corbin. His mother spots him first, gesturing us in his direction. Before I can get a few feet, a pair of arms reach out and yank me forward.
I laugh as Zach spins us around, nearly hitting some of the people standing next to him. He sets me down when I swat his arm and shoots me a dorky grin. “I know you weren’t going to walk away before congratulating me.”
Giving him a quick hug, I step back. “On a scale of one to ten, how happy are you to be done with high school?”
“Not as much as your boyfriend,” he answers, chuckling. “Admit it, Kinley. You’re going to miss me.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll miss both of you. I won’t have anyone to annoy me anymore.” Taking that into consideration, I smile. “That sounds nice come to think of it.”
He gasps and throws a hand to chest. “If I had feelings that would have hurt them.”
“Leave the dramatics to Corbin.”
He snickers. “You going to invite me to your graduation? I’ll make you a sign even though you didn’t make me one. I’m thoughtful like that.”
I start backing away. “If you’re not too busy studying to be a badass physical therapist, there’s a ticket with your name on it.”
He points. “I’m holding you to that.”
Sticking out my tongue, I turn and refocus on Corbin and his parents. They’re standing in front of him and some young blonde girl who looks vaguely familiar. Next to her is an older man I’ve never seen before shaking Corbin’s hand.
Brows pinched I walk over.
“Hey, graduate,” I greet.
His eyes brighten as soon as he sees me, pulling me into a hug. “The sign was a nice touch, Little Bird.”
