Filthy Beast(8)

As Jackson leans in for the kiss, I lean in toward Lionel and show him the page. He looks at it and frowns. “Cut,” he calls out.

Jackson and Holly stop, inches before their lips meet. “What’s wrong?” Jackson asks. “Was that too much?”

“No, no, you two were great. But Jackson, your words. They are, ‘We will get revenge for her,’ you see?” He holds up my script for him.

Jackson looks at me and smirks, and I look away. “Sure,” he says. “I understand.”

“Okay, good. Reset, take it from the top.”

I can tell from his smile that he thinks I stopped that scene just because he was going to kiss Holly, but that’s not the case. I know he’s going to kiss her a lot, it’s his job. I can’t be that jealous. I’m a professional, I’ve watched plenty of actors kiss, I know how it goes. Then again, I haven’t seen the boy that broke my heart kiss a beautiful woman right in front of me before.

The scene restarts, and this time they get through it all, including the passionate kiss. As he’s kissing Holly though, I could swear that he’s looking at me with a grin on his face, but of course that’s impossible.

Still, I keep thinking about that moment for the rest of the day. I could have let that little line go, and most of the time I do. I don’t know why it mattered that he phrased it slightly differently. Did I just stop that because he was about to kiss her?

No, that can’t be it. I was just doing my job. I’m supposed to make sure that they’re following the script and not deviating too much, and I guess I felt like that was too different. That has to be all there is.

We break for lunch not too long after, but I just keep thinking about that moment. I didn’t break in again after that, and I’m sure nobody else thought anything of it. But I know Jackson noticed, and I know he liked it.

I’m cleaning up the set and making sure the crew is putting stuff in the right spot when I hear him just behind me.

“What do you think so far?”

I turn around and Jackson is grinning at me. “It looks good,” I say, which is what I’d say to any actor asking me that question.

“I couldn’t help but notice that the very first time you interrupted to fix a line was during that scene earlier,” he says slowly.

“What do you mean?” I ask him, eyes narrowing. “You were the one that got it wrong.”

“Barely worth changing,” he says, and shrugs. “But you’re just doing your job.”

“Right. Exactly.” I glare at him. “Did you just come over here to criticize me?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Not at all. Look, we have a long shoot ahead of us. I don’t want things to be weird.”

I sigh and cross my arms. “It’s not weird.”

“It’s weird,” he says, his grin getting bigger. “You’re still angry with me, and I probably deserve it. But let’s call a truce, at least until we’re done working together.”

I sigh and watch him for a second. I’m trying to decide if this is some kind of trick, but if it is, I don’t see it.

“Come on,” he says. “Just a temporary truce. Make this job easier on both of us. Afterward, you can go back to hating me if you want.”

“Fine,” I say, a little reluctantly. “Just for filming. You’re still a dick.”

He laughs. “Fair enough. Come on, let’s grab some food. They can handle it over here.”

I hesitate but I decide to follow him. He’s right, we need to bury the past, at least for now. If we can get to the point where things are at least passably friendly between us then maybe this might not be so bad.

As we head over to the lunch counter and get some food, I can’t help but feel like I’m in school all over again. I used to walk through the halls with him and just bask in the glow of how popular he was. It’s the same on the set, everywhere he goes, people want to talk to him and say hey. He seems to know everyone’s name, and he seems so totally genuine in his interest with every single person that I’m almost jealous of him.

He’s always had this natural charisma. Obviously it’s part of what drew me to him when we were kids.

“Hey, you remember Camp Neshaminy?” he asks me as we move away from the lunch line and head off toward an empty table.

“I was just thinking about that too,” I admit to him.

“It’s the line and eating outside, right?”

I can’t help but smile. “Yeah. Feels so much like camp.”

“Remember what I said to you when we first met?” he asks as we sit down together.