Cross your Heart

by Haley Jenner

  “I think you’re classy as fuck. The post was rock-solid, Roxy-Roo.”

  “It was therapeutic. I just wish Reid would call me back.”

  “He will,” Ari assures me. “But if he doesn’t, you and I can go to the premiere together. Meet him there.”

  I narrow my eyes.

  “Worth a try.” He awkwardly shrugs, his position on the couch making it look more like a weird body buck.

  “You have plans today?” He changes the subject.

  “If you call staying in my apartment avoiding everyone, then yes, I have plans.”

  “Care for company?”

  “Do you have a problem with watching TV and binging on junk food?” I shrug.

  “Sounds like a bloody perfect day.”

  “Bloody perfect,” I echo, testing my Australian accent.

  “Nope,” he rejects, popping his P. “We are not doing that. It’s weird and uncomfortable. I spent hours with your friend the other week doing that. Oh, hey, maybe she’ll be my date.”

  “Brooke?” I test.

  “Yeah.” He sits up. “Call her and ask her.”

  I push myself into a sitting position. “Are you thinking about trying to fuck her?”

  “I did. For a few seconds, then she kept trying to talk in an Aussie accent. It was so painful my dick crawled back up in my body.”

  “Don’t fuck her,” I warn, finger pointing at him in threat. “She’s had enough of one particular asshole to last her an eternity.”

  “Hey.” He balks. “I’m not an asshole.”

  “You would be if you fucked and ran. I’ll call her, but no funny business.”

  “Scout’s honor.” He salutes.

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  He rolls his eyes. “It means I’m telling the truth. Just call her,” he urges.

  “All right. All right. Chill, Dundee.”

  A cushion hits me square in the face.

  “Shit.” He laughs. “I’m so sorry. You really need to work on your reflexes.”

  His cell rings before I’ve had a chance to grab mine and I pause, watching him candidly to see if it’s Reid.

  “It’s Baxter. Weird.”

  “Assistant,” he greets. “What up?”

  The fair line of his brows pulls together. “Of course I haven’t been on TMZ. Have you not learned anything about the media? We ignore it because it’s rubbish.”

  He goes quiet as Baxter speaks, his frown deepening. “Why would he be there? I have no idea either. Look into it. Call me back.”

  Ending the call, he places his phone on the couch beside him carefully, his eyes not moving from the device.

  “What?”

  “Any idea why Reid would be leaving an oncology unit?”

  “No.”

  He picks his cell back up. “I hate that I’m visiting this website.”

  His eyes narrow as he looks at the picture. “It’s definitely him. The article, which we shouldn’t believe, says he was inside for over three hours before leaving.”

  “What?” I yank the phone from him, fingers sliding across the screen to zoom.

  “It’s definitely Reid,” I echo Ari’s words distractedly. “What the hell? Is he doing research for another film?”

  “Not that I know of,” Ari answers, standing to look over my shoulder. “He looks off though, right?”

  I nod absently. Baseball cap pulled down severely over his face, lines of worry crease along his mouth, his clothes disheveled, dark glasses hiding his eyes.

  “Maybe someone he knows?” I test.

  “He hasn’t said anything to me.” Ari steps back. “Try and call him again.”

  It goes straight to voicemail and I look at Ari worriedly.

  “Would he hide something like this?”

  I think on it for only a second before nodding. “Yes.”

  “Fuck,” he bites out. “He seemed well enough. You know what, no! We’re not doing this, buying into their bullshit.” He gestures to his phone. “Call his mom.”

  Pushing his cell against his chest, I wait for him to grab it before going in search of mine.

  Bree’s phone goes straight to voicemail and I glower at Ari.

  “Do you have his dad’s number?”

  “No,” I answer, lifting my phone to my ear. “Mom, it’s me. Have you spoken to Bree lately?”

  “No,” she gripes. “I’ve been trying to call her all day, but it’s gone to voicemail. I even dropped by, the house is all locked up. No one is there.”

  “You saw TMZ.”

  “Mmm,” she confirms. “Did he say anything to you?”

  “No,” I snap, angered at the situation. “Do you have Eric’s number?”

  “No,” Mom answers. “Kicking myself that I don’t.”

  “Well, if anything changes on your end, call me.”

  “Same for you,” Mom says.

  I hang up, staring at Ari in silence.

  “There’ll be an explanation,” he assures me, the lack of belief in his own words twisting his statement into a quiet question.

  I nod, lying like he just did, dialing Reid’s number once again just to hear his voicemail tell me to leave a message.

  Twenty-Six

  Take Two

  Roxy

  Bright flashes shower me from every direction. Riotous voices and incessant camera clicks the unmistakable melody to the mayhem of the red carpet. I see almost nothing; the fluorescent yellow dots in my irises shrinking to bring focus, only to be replaced as a flash catches me dead in the eyes once again. Hands on my hips, I pause, smiling for the assholes that make my life a living hell.

  “What do you have to say about Damian Harrington calling you a liar?” someone shouts from my right.

  “I’ve had worse things said about me,” I answer, moving along.

  “ROXY! MONROE! ROXY!”

  Roxy.

  Roxy

  Roxy.

  My name is an ongoing chant, echoing from warring directions, everyone dying to get the best shot to feed their bank accounts. I play my part; smiling, posing, waving, pretending like this isn’t my least favorite part of my job.

  “Who are you wearing?”

  “Burberry.” I turn, glancing over my shoulder in time for a shutter close, another still of me caught for their paycheck.

  “Why didn’t you walk the carpet with Reid?”

  I force a smile. “Surprising as it may be, I am more than capable of escorting myself to an event.”

  “So you’re not together?” they probe.

  I ignore their questions, moving farther up the line.

  “Do your feelings mirror his?” they push.

  I wish I could run. Hike the tail of my dress up and power down the carpet to find Reid. Let him calm the ruthless race of my heart.

  As casually as I can manage it, I drag my clammy palms along my dress, hoping not to alert anyone of my crippling nerves.

  Reid still hasn’t called me back and the radio silence is wreaking havoc on my anxiety. I’m sitting on this constant verge of needing to vomit; my stomach churning with the unknown.

  “How long has Reid been undergoing chemo?”

  My feet stumble slightly at that question. “Who says he is?”

  “The tabloids,” another voice yells.

  I push my hand against my heart, feigning confidence. “And we all know how everything you read in tabloid media is true.”

  They laugh and I die a little more inside.

  “Life mimicking art,” someone hollers at my side. “Rather poetic.”

  I swallow the possibility that Firefly will become our real-life ending.

  “If not Reid, then who?” I don’t know who said that, but I move past the firing squad of questions, twisting left and right, smiling for the cameras.

  A few journalists ask me about the movie. Others about my social media post. Too many question me about Reid. The paparazzi snap photo after photo and I feel part of a circus, spinning in circle
s for their entertainment.

  Stepping from the mayhem and into a dulled down version of outside, I take a steadying breath.

  Ari, speaking with a journalist, spots me, cutting his conversation off to wander over.

  “Have you seen him?” I forgo any greeting.

  “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Bathroom.”

  I take a step in the direction of the male restroom. “Did he say anything?”

  He shakes his head. “He seemed happy.” He shrugs.

  My feet rush forward, ignoring the inquisitive looks and call of my name through the room.

  Reid is washing his hands as I step through the door, eyes focused on the door to see my approach.

  “Firefly,” he greets warmly.

  Ignoring him, I push the doors of each stall open, checking that we’re alone. Confident there is no one else in here, I lock the main door, pushing my back against it.

  “Is it true?”

  He watches me carefully, working to gauge my reaction. “Yes.”

  Bile rushes up my throat, but I swallow the acidic nightmare back down.

  “Were you going to tell me?”

  Leaning against the basin, he crosses his feet at the ankles, the picture of calm. I want to scream at him. Curse him for letting this happen. Slap him for acting like my whole world isn’t crumbling around me.

  “I thought I did.”

  My spine straightens. “You can’t be serious? Reid, you were hoping I’d find out second-hand.”

  “It was kinda out in the open after yesterday, there’s really no longer any reason to deny it.”

  My heart feels ready to give out. Tears spring to my eyes without permission and I look away. “When did you find out?”

  A soft cough works to clear his throat. “I couldn’t pinpoint the exact date. A few months, I guess.”

  “A few months,” I criticize. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Gaze falling to his feet, he refuses to meet my eyes. “I didn’t know how you’d react. I guess I was scared. It’s big, Roxy. Life-altering.”

  I can’t begrudge him that. I’m petrified. I couldn’t guarantee how I’d react if he’d told me himself. I feel ready to die and I’ve had a good few hours to let the reality of this fucked up situation sink in.

  “I got to spend the first part of my life loving you as my best friend,” he confesses quietly and I look at him, dying at the thought that he’s choosing this moment to give me his heartfelt goodbye. “I get to spend the rest of my forever loving you in a different way. I was wrong all those years ago, Firefly. You being my heart doesn’t exist without you being my best friend.”

  Confusion overtakes my grief, my mind completely lost to what he’s trying to say.

  His eyes narrow on the tracks of tears falling along my cheeks. “I can’t tell if they’re happy or sad tears.”

  “Happy tears?” I all but screech. “How could they be happy tears?”

  “This isn’t what you want,” he surmises, scratching the back of his neck in unease.

  I step closer. “You can’t tell me this is what you want for your life.”

  Feet untangling, he stands to full height. “Wouldn’t have told the world if it wasn’t.”

  I feel broken inside; how could he accept this so completely. “I can’t accept that.”

  Hands pushed into his pockets, he steps closer to me. “What is there to not accept? I love you, Roxy. I want the world to know. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

  “That’s what makes this situation so fucked,” I stress through my tears.

  “What situation?”

  I look at him as though he’s lost his mind. “You having fucking cancer, Reid!” I shout.

  “What?!” he barks. “Cancer? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You just said it was true.”

  “That I loved you? It is fucking true.”

  “No. You said that you having cancer was true,” I cry, my voice breaking in panic.

  “I never said that.”

  “Just then,” I push, moving closer. “I asked if it was true and you said yes.”

  He shakes his head. “We’re having two completely different conversations here. I told the vultures out there I loved you.”

  “But the chemo clinic,” I argue meekly. “You’ve been MIA.”

  Realization dawns on him on a defeated sigh. “Never picked you to believe tabloid news.”

  “You at an oncology unit seems pretty self-explanatory.”

  “It’s Mom, Rox,” he explains miserably. “Mom has cancer. When I can manage it, I sit with her when she has treatment.”

  “Bree?” I breathe. “Bree is sick?”

  He nods, just as someone bangs on the door. “Outlook looks good, Firefly. Yesterday was her last bout of chemo. Her doctor is confident she’ll beat it.”

  “Guys,” Ari speaks through the door, interrupting us. “Whispers are starting, might want to come out before the pap catch on that you’re in here.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Out there somewhere,” he answers. “She’s feeling pretty good, and I didn’t even attempt to try and keep her away from our big night.”

  “Roxy!” he calls out as I turn to unlock the door. “What about the rest of it?”

  I stop, watching him over my shoulder. “I love you, too, Reid. I never stopped. You were the first half of my forever and you’ll be the second half of it too.”

  With that, I fling open the door, not caring about the curious glances thrown my way. Not giving two shits about the cameras filming me storming across the room, my eyes search desperately for Bree.

  A hand on my arm halts my movement and before I know what’s happened, I’m spun in a circle, my face mere inches from Reid’s. “You love me?”

  My eyes soften. “Of course I do.”

  “Cross your heart?” He smiles that stupid half-grin, the one that hoods his eyes in a way that does all kinds of stupid things to my lady parts.

  “Cross my heart.”

  Then he kisses me.

  Total. Fucking. Hollywood.

  My back dipped over his arm, he leans into me, letting his lips devour mine in front of hundreds of paparazzi.

  Lights flash as his tongue slips into my mouth and I don’t hesitate to let mine do the same. The kiss we share is lascivious and beyond inappropriate for public viewing. But, the way I see it, the world’s seen enough of me already. What’s a carnal kiss with someone I love to make them see they can’t ruin my happiness?

  Pulling me upright, Reid deepens our kiss and I go willingly, my arms wrapping around his shoulders, my knee bending, foot kicked out behind me in the ultimate foot pop.

  The sound around us is nothing but white noise. Our heartbeats surrounding us in a bubble of protection. He is all I see. All I hear. All I feel.

  Reid and Roxy.

  Roxy and Reid.

  Breaking our kiss on a tender caress of his lips, Reid’s eyes flutter open, boring into mine.

  “I have a feeling you might be front-page news again tomorrow.”

  I giggle. “I’m okay with that. The dip definitely gave them the money shot.”

  “Just doing my part to put their kids through college.”

  “Is this real?” I worry. “I’m afraid I’m going to wake up and it all be a dream.”

  He drags a lock of my hair through his fingers. “Ten years ago, my happy ending was solidified in my career,” he whispers. “I was too young to think I needed anything else. Forever is a long time when you’re a teenager, Firefly.”

  “I knew my happy ending involved you at eighteen,” I confess.

  He squeezes me harder.

  “What does yours look like now?”

  “My happily ever?” he clarifies.

  “Mm.”

  “My happily ever has mismatched eyes and a smile that makes the world a better place. It has long blonde hair and a heart that is crazy and wild and altogether kind. It lights up my life
like nothing else can. My happily ever looks like you, Firefly.”

  Embarrassment creeps onto my cheeks, his thumb brushing against the blush affectionately. “Sounds like a line that should’ve been in your movie.”

  “Our movie,” he corrects. “And it can’t come as a surprise to you. That movie was written for you, because of you. Just because I wasn’t in love with you at the time, doesn’t mean the love I held for you then was any less significant.”

  Epilogue

  Take Two - Six Month Later

  Roxy

  Reid squeezes my waist, leaning in to kiss my temple. “You’re gonna do great.”

  “I don’t know why I get so nervous,” I worry, rubbing the base of my palm with my thumb. “Do I look okay?” I readjust my jeans.

  The right side of his mouth ticks up. “Fucking amazing,” he growls into my ear, soft enough not to be heard by anyone else. “Do you think Kate would mind if I fucked you on the purple couch after everyone leaves?”

  I push him away. “Yeah. I do think she’d mind.” I laugh. “It’s only one of the most iconic props in talk show fucking television.”

  “That’s why I think I should fuck you on it. A story for the grandkids.”

  “I’d really prefer you didn’t.”

  I startle at our host’s voice coming up behind me.

  “Don’t mind him.” I turn, watching her approach. “He acts like a tool to calm my nerves. Live television does weird things to my psyche.”

  Hand extended, Kate smiles. “Pleasure to meet you, Roxy.”

  “Pleasure is all mine,” I reply. “Thank you for having us on the show.”

  Kate is the hottest thing in talk show television right now. Think Oprah for millennials, and she’s hellbent on making waves in the industry. Pushing boundaries, opening doors on conversations that we should’ve been having decades ago, the woman is a powerhouse.

  I’m equally in awe and intimidated, in the most magnificent of ways.

  “Thank you for being here. I love what you’re doing. I’m all about social change where it’s needed. Come” —she gestures toward the stage— “let’s get settled.”