Ginger: Hey Cas. What’s up?
Caspian: Hey. Just rehearsing for a show tonight.
Ginger: Where are you?
Caspian: In San Francisco still.
Ginger: I have some sorta good news.
Caspian: Did you get your nails done? Break in your heels?
I wrinkle up my forehead and curiously bite my bottom lip. He’s never rude to me. What was that? I pause for a minute before replying.
Ginger: Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?
Caspian: I dunno. Did you have fun last night?
Oh crap. Does he know about Tucker? Did someone tell him? Was it in the news? I bring up the internet on my phone and search through a few headlining stories. Ah, ha! It read:
Breaking Story: Has Ginger Moved On?
Last night, Timelines actress, Ginger Teague was seen getting cozy with costar Tucker Jones. Has she moved on from one costar to another? Witnesses say that the two danced, drank, and left together. UPDATE: According to these pictures taken by a passerby on the street this morning, it looks as though Ginger has on the same clothes as last night. Did someone have fun? Our guess is Ginger is completely over Barrett, but is he? Barrett reported in an interview with People magazine that he is “Not giving up.” This may be a hint that things are over for good this time.
Can I even take a shit without the whole world knowing about it? Having Caspian upset with me doesn’t feel too damn pleasant.
Ginger: It isn’t what you think. I told you not to believe everything the tabloids say.
Caspian: So it isn’t true?
I don’t want to lie to him, but he won’t understand the truth. I need to talk to him, explain myself. What’s there to explain, Ginger? You screwed another man.
Ginger: What’s your number? Can we talk?
Caspian: I’m working.
Ginger: Take a smoke break.
He sends me his number and I immediately dial it.
“Hello.”
My eyes shut at the sound of his soft voice. Blood pumps faster through my body, making my skin tingle. This is what his voice does to me.
“Why are you upset?” There’s yelling in the background and a bunch of muffled noise before he answers.
“You were drinking before going home with some random guy.”
“He wasn’t some random guy. I’ve known him for a while now. We work together.”
“Still. You’re better than this, Ginger. You know better. Can’t you see that drinking impairs your judgment?”
“How would you know what I would or wouldn’t do when drinking? Maybe I like him. Maybe I wanted to be with him.”
“Dammit. I know. Trust me, I know. Waking up with strange people in your bed. Tattoos? No memory of the night before. Living from one drink to the next? I understand. You haven’t hit your rock bottom yet, but you don’t have to get that bad. Please.”
“How?” I whisper. Does he have a problem as well? Every time I’ve seen him drink, it’s always been water. He drinks the stuff like a camel.
“Did he take care of you like I did? Huh? Did he clean you up and promise that everything was going to get better? Or did he take advantage of you? Drinking made him less of a man. It makes people do stupid things.”
“Like what?”
“Nothing in particular and don’t change the subject.”
Now he’s pissing me off. I want an explanation, not half-assed answers like always. “Like what, Caspian? What did you do? Are you an alcoholic? Tell me something about yourself because it seems to me that it’s always about me. You hardly ever talk about your life or your band. Only me. What are you so afraid of?”
He takes a sharp intake of breath and blows it out against the phone speaker. “Don’t be an ass.”
“And you’re an annoying shit bag,” I shoot back.
He makes a few more noises, and I wonder what he’s doing. Is he outside? Who is with him? Not knowing kills me. After a moment of silence, he sighs into the phone.
“I’m a recovering alcoholic.”
He’s opening up to me. I don’t say anything, but relish in the fact that he trusts me and listen to his story.
“We were always on the road, different bars and clubs having fun and meeting new people. It was a party every night. I got out of control. I was fighting with the band, forgetting lyrics and acting like a douche. We all drank, but I was the only one to take it to the next level. I became someone that I wasn’t. Bad tempered, forgetful, selfish. No one said anything, and I didn’t think anything of it until it became clear that I had a problem.”
“How did you know?”
“I hurt someone. Someone that I loved.”
I slump down on my bed and close my eyes. It wasn’t like he killed anyone. He would be in jail. “What did you do?”
“My ex. I cheated on her”
A sharp burn fills my stomach as if I’ve been shot. Cheating? No, he would never. Barrett cheated. Barrett is a bad guy. Caspian is so sensitive and intense. Caspian is supposed to be different.
“I don’t believe you. You don’t seem like—”
“Exactly. I’m not that type of guy. Sex is something special to me. It’s not something you randomly do when the urge strikes. I love her with all my heart, but the second I did that— I knew I couldn’t drink anymore. I stopped cold turkey and attended AA meetings whenever we were in town.”
He said he loves her, not loved. Is he still in love with her? I don’t ask though, afraid of the answer. “Is this why you broke up with her, the ex?”
“No, Aly forgave me, but things were never the same. We grew apart and it soon became clear that we just weren’t mean to be.”
“Ah, yes. The infamous Aly from your band.”
“Correct.”
“How did it become clear?”
He pauses for a long moment. “She wanted to get more serious.”
I pretend to be shocked, but this is a typical guy fear. “What? After five years? How dare she?”
“It made me realize that I can’t see myself with her. When we’re old and lose our teeth, I don’t imagine her by my side.”
“That sucks. So you work together, but you aren’t dating. How’s that working out?”
“You work with your ex too. You tell me.”
I roll my eyes. “We don’t begin filming for another few weeks, so I’m not sure. Awkward, I bet.”
“You got it, but the band depends on me so I gotta get through it. I can’t back out.”
“That’s right.” I don’t even know why I said that. That was the stupidest thing to say. I cover up my embarrassment by quickly saying, “I’m glad you opened up to me.”
“Me as well. What are you gonna do now?”
I don’t know what to say. If I do have a drinking problem, maybe I could try the sober life for a little while. “I won’t drink on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You quit smoking.”
He groans. “Fine, but I warn you. I’ve tried to quit almost a dozen times before and have failed miserably.”
“Well you didn’t have me to help you.” No, he probably had this Aly- love of his life- to help him. What could I do except screw it all up.
“Can you answer one thing?” he asks.
“Yeah?”
“Why did you sleep with this guy? Are you guys dating now or what?”
“Oh, no, no, no. Tucker is worse than Barrett except he doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s a man whore.”
“So you don’t feel anything for him?”
“What do you want me to say? You told me we can only be friends, but you don’t want me to be with anyone else. Doesn’t seem fair if you ask me.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Listen, I gotta go back in and do a sound check. God, I miss you. I really do. You know that?”
Unfair. He’s being so insensitively unfair. Saying these things to me. “Goodbye, friend.”
“Cheers.”
J
ust listening to his voice helps me relax. For once, I don’t feel so grumpy or down in the dumps. The stress of everything has vanished into thin air. But what can I do? He’s made it clear that he isn’t looking for a relationship, and I want something more than a man who travels ten months out of the year can give. I pick up my phone and dial Quinn’s number. Maybe she’ll let me come over and cuddle with little Collin.
“Hey, Ginger.”
“Hey. You busy? Can I come see the baby?”
“Actually…now isn’t the greatest time. Chase’s mom is here, and she’s going through the house, cleaning and rearranging. The place is a mess. I haven’t left the bed yet, and the baby cries like constantly. I may take a nap followed by a shower. ”
Wow. That had to be every excuse known to mankind. “Okay…if Chase doesn’t want me there. That’s all you gotta say.” He must still be upset about the beer incident. That was selfish of me, now that I look back. Quinn doesn’t read the tabloids so I’m sure they don’t know about Tucker.
“He’ll get over it. He’s worried about you. It may seem like he’s just trying to protect me and Collin, but he cares about you Ginger. He doesn’t want to see you hurting. Neither of us do.”
“I know. I promise not to drink anymore. For real this time.”
“That’s wonderful.”
I’m not sure she believes me anymore. “You doing okay?”
“Are you doing okay?”
There’s a hint of suspicion in her voice. Oh no, maybe she does know about Tucker and the partying.
“I’m good.” I keep my voice even.
“Do anything special for Valentine’s day?”
“No, did you?”
“Nope.”
Okay, that’s it. I’m telling her. “Well one thing did happen, but I don’t want you to freak out or anything. I’m dying to tell someone.”
“Yes?”
I give her a brief rundown of my encounter with Tucker and then my phone call with Caspian afterwards. I tell her about how Caspian stayed on my mind the entire time I was with Tucker, and the guilt and disappointment I felt for letting him down. I tell her about how he makes me want to be a better person, and how he holds me together by making me laugh.
“Gimme some motherly advice,” I tell her.
“You know, I’m not your mother.”
“You’re someone’s mother. That’s good enough for me.”
She chuckles, and I hear the baby fussing in the background.
“Do you want to be more than friends?”
“Maybe. I dunno. He isn’t my type.”
“Well you trust him, you feel safe with him, there’s obviously a bit of attraction there. Does type really matter? Who cares what he does for a living or what he wears? You should get to know him better.”
“But my drinking.”
“You’re trying to stop right? If anything, this should make you closer, not farther apart.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Sometimes I wish Chase and I could have been friends before we dated. We skipped that whole getting to know each other part, and it didn’t help the confidence in our relationship. Be his friend, go to him. Surprise him.”
“Really? You think I should fly up there? What am I gonna say? Hey, Cas. You didn’t invite me, but I wanted to see you? ”
Aren’t I supposed to be cutting back on expenses? This is an emergency. Surely, an exception can be made.
“What do you have to lose?”
She’s right. I need to calm this itch in my system. “I dunno. He didn’t invite me and he’s been close by for days now. If he wanted to see me he would have asked.”
“It doesn’t sound to me like this guy is a player or even that suave in relationships. He may have been too shy to ask. Do it!”
“Are you getting me back for the time I told you to drink and have sexy time with Chase? Because I didn’t say have unprotected sex.”
“No! This is sound motherly advice. It isn’t as if you’re flying halfway across the country. This is just upstate. If it doesn’t work out you can come right home.”
I puff out my chest and lift my chin. “Yes. You’re right. I’m gonna fly up there.”
“And I’m gonna buy you a ticket. Get packed. I’ll email you the details.”
Before I can protest, Quinn hangs up. My mind begins racing. I need a shower. I need to pack. I need new clothes. I need a manicure. I need my hair highlighted.
There’s no time or money for the last few so I shower and pack as fast as I can. Quinn emails me the details for a flight that leaves in three hours as well as a hotel confirmation for—get this—the honeymoon suite.
Ginger: You’re awful. I’ll pay you back.
Quinn: Consider it an early birthday present, now go!
That’s right. My birthday is about a month away. March twenty-fourth to be exact.
Ginger: Thanks. Love you.
I stuff my phone into my red Prada bag and call a limo service to come pick me up. I dig around in my purse for as much cash as I can scrounge. I don’t want to touch anything in my bank account unless necessary. I’ve lived paycheck to paycheck before. Right after I moved to LA, I shared a tiny one-bedroom apartment with three other budding actresses. If it can be helped, things will never get that bad again.
The limo takes me to the airport, the entire time I have this sick feeling in my stomach. What if this is a bad idea? What if he doesn’t want me there? Honestly, it feels like I’m always questioning myself. No more. I’m going to be more confident in my decisions and do what I want. No more worrying. It’s amazing how much has changed from last night. All it took was waking up next to a guy to see how far I’ve really fallen.
Ginger
The paparazzi stalk me all the way through the airport, but once I board, the ride is quiet, allowing me to try and catch up on a much-needed nap. One problem, I can’t calm my brain. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I go over every scenario in my head. If things go as planned, by this evening, I will be sublimely happy. I won’t even entertain the idea that Caspian won’t want me. I can’t think about it.
After the plane lands, I rent a car, and drive to the hotel. The sun is beginning to set along the horizon, reminding me that I have no idea where Caspian’s band is playing. A quick internet search tells me that he’s playing at a bar called Down Under. I check into the hotel and change into a black cocktail dress. I may stick out like a nun in a strip club, but I can’t risk looking sloppy tonight. This is my chance to convince Caspian that I can change and he can take a chance on me. I wear my hair down, loose along my back. The club is situated in downtown San Francisco, between two restaurants. Dark, crowded, and haphazardly loud, it’s your typical bar.
The stage is lit up, and I recognize the song immediately. Caspian is up front and center in a white seventies style T-shirt with gray sleeves. I watch them play from the hidden corner of the room. The drummer is really getting into the music by singing along and shaking his head a lot. The bass player is hunched over rocking next to Caspian as they jam together. Then my eyes turn to the keyboard. The tiny girl behind it, who I can only assume is the ex-girlfriend, doesn’t seem as into the song as the rest of them. Her face is scrunched up as she concentrates on the keys before her. Her hair is black with a blonde ombre along the bottom. She’s beautiful, gorgeous actually, and decked out in a punk rock style that looks good on her, but I could never pull it off. As the song progresses, she looks at Caspian. They exchange some sort of look, one that brings pangs of jealousy through my chest. It’s as if the song has a hidden meaning between them. This is a horrible idea. What if Caspian doesn’t want his ex-girlfriend to know about me? That’s crazy. We’re friends. He can have friends. I can have friends. And so what? If I’m gonna make Caspian mine, no ex-girlfriend is gonna stop me.
Once I stop bickering with myself, I come back to reality and finish listening to the music.
The song ends, and Caspian begins speaking to the audi
ence. Thanking them for coming and all that. I don’t know exactly because I wander over to the bar to sit down.
“Can I get you something?” asks a young girl, who I assume is the bartender.
I open my mouth to ask for vodka, but remember my promise to Caspian. I better not. This promise is different from the one I made to Quinn. This one, I will keep.
“No, thanks.”
“Sure thing. You here to see the band?”
I look back to Caspian and nod. “Something like that.”
“The lead singer is hot, but a little standoffish. I may have a better chance with the drummer.”
I glare at her. It’s not like she isn’t cute or anything. She’s average at best if you like too much makeup. “Caspian isn’t standoffish. He’s just dealing with a lot.”
“She rolls her eyes while pouring some drinks for a few other customers. “ Calm down, Red. I only meant he isn’t sociable. The other guys were up here drinking and hanging out before the show. He, on the other hand, wasn’t in the best mood.”
“I gotta get closer,” I say, standing up on my chair to try and find the best route to the stage. The place is packed shoulder to shoulder, but I spot an opening up front.
“Anyone ever tell you that you look just like that actress…what’s her name? Ginger something or other?”
I fight the urge to groan and instead laugh. “She’s much prettier than me.”
“Well good luck. It looks like every girl in here has the same idea.” She walks off, and I warily climb down from the chair. Maybe If I push my way through.
I wander farther away from the bar and through the crowd towards the stage. A few girls push into me, and I almost lose my balance, but I use my elbow to push them right back.
“Outta my way!” I tell a girl who refuses to budge. I’m somehow able to push past her and a dozen other girls who are too busy recording with their phone to pay me any attention. Caspian is still talking. Awkwardly, I might add. Geez, he would make a horrible actor. Should I walk up to him? Talk to him? I don’t have to do either because Caspian’s eyes meet mine. Those blue orbs light up in recognition and a smile lifts on his face. He’s excited to see me, but his expression shows something else. Worry, perhaps? My heart does that ‘skip-a-beat’ thing that happens so often when he’s around.
The One Thing Page 14
