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Behind the Scenes(80)

By:Jessica Blake


“Don’t talk to me about Brian.”

Crystal sighs and crosses her arms.

I clear my throat. “Did something happen with Brian?”

Crystal looks at me. “He told Eryk exactly what I’ve been trying to say. He needs to take better care of himself.”

“I am!” Eryk shrieks. “You don’t know what it’s like, Crystal.”

“And you don’t seem to know what you’re doing to yourself, Eryk! It’s not normal to be so tired, or to have as many headaches as you do, or be dizzy every day. You’re not eating right.”

“She’s right, Eryk,” I say. “We’re worried about you.”

Eryk’s hands curl into fists and he speaks through a clamped jaw. “I told you. I’m detoxing.”

Crystal shakes her head. “You’re not doing it right.”

“Oh, what are you, a nutritionist now?” he snaps.

“I obviously know more about it than you. Someone your size can’t live off, like ten calories a day.”

“Just leave me alone,” he snarls, stalking off to his room.

His bedroom door slams and Crystal’s mouth falls open.

“It’s like we have a kid all of a sudden,” she says to me. “This experience itself is literally birth control. I am never having children.”

I sigh and rub my face with my hands. “He just needs some time to cool off.”

“He’s only so angry because he knows we’re right.”

I nod in agreement. “Of course. But his pride is hurt.”

Crystal crosses her arms. “I know,” she mumbles.

“We’ll try again tomorrow. I need to get to bed.”

“Already?” She looks disappointed.

I take my shoes off and drop them with the others by the door. “I’m taking Brendan to the airport in the morning.”

“Right.” She bites the side of her thumbnail.

Passing across the room, I envelop her in a hug. “Don’t worry,” I say into her hair.

She guffaws. “The same to you.”

I draw back. “I’m not worried. We’ll get through to him sooner or later.”

“I meant about Simon.”

His name is a knife in my gut. “Oh. I’m not worried about that either. It’s over. For real this time.”

She squints her eyes in suspicion. “I don’t know. You seem to have gotten over him pretty quickly, especially considering how hung up on him you were from the get go. Are you sure you’re not just pushing your feelings down?”

I want to tell Crystal to stop playing therapist, but she just got told to stop playing nutritionist not five minutes ago. I’d hate to kick her when she’s down.

“Maybe there’s no other way through this,” I say quietly.

Crystal frowns at that. “We can talk about it any time you want.”

I rub the spot between my brows. It’s aching from exhaustion — and, yes, probably suppression of some feelings. “Thanks. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I take a quick shower and then throw on the pajamas laying on my bed from the night before. Right before I turn the light off, I remember to set the alarm clock.

Burrowing down into my sheets, I stare out the window. There’s nothing to see but the apartment building across the street, but the presence of the open space is comforting nonetheless. The bottom window is cracked and a car zooms by on the street, bass thumping from its speakers.

Scenes from the past week swirl around me. I take a deep breath and let it out slow, trying to release all the thoughts from my mind, trying to send them out through the cracked window and away from me, far off into the sky and space.

But I’m still thinking of the way Eryk yelled at Crystal in the living room. He’s hardly ever lost his temper to such a degree, and never with Crystal, who’s one of the calmest and most understanding people I know.

My worries turn to The Dawn Companion set. I’m afraid I showed my inexperience today when I forgot to turn in the tax paperwork to the second employee from the casting office. Henry had to remind me right before we left.

You’re still doing good, I tell myself. And making friends.

The thought of friends causes a little pang in my chest. As exciting as my new job is, I miss Dana — and even Chuck and Daniel — which is unexpected.

Most of all I miss the person I won’t let myself feel anything for.

Throwing the sheets off, I grab my cell phone, pull up Dana’s number, and write a text.

How is it going with the temp?

I stare at the little paper birds hanging in the corner of the room while I wait to see if she responds. In a few minutes, a text pops up.

Gone through three already.