Under the Lights (16 page)

“You can trust me, you know.” Her voice has the slightest tinge of annoyance. “I'm not my mother. I promised I would never spy on you again, and I meant it.”

“I know that.”

“I thought we were friends.”

“Of course we're friends. I just…I don't know.” I bite my lip and meet her gaze. “You ever feel like you just have
no
idea what you're doing? Ever? Like, I constantly rely on people telling me what to do, what to wear, how to deliver a line, where to be, and I don't have to
think
. And I know this makes me sound dumb, but I've always kinda liked that. I don't really wanna think.”

“It doesn't make you sound dumb.” She scoops up a pile of sand and lets it filter through her fingers. “Not any dumber than me doing whatever my mom tells me to do.”

“Yeah, but that's only because she's withholding your tuition right now. As soon as this year's up, you're gonna get some job or go off to college, doing…I don't know what. Important college-people things.”

She laughs. “Except that she's right that I have no idea what I wanna do with my life. I haven't exactly taken to her career, and spending a few days on set didn't really make me want to do anything other than hang out with you more. So I'm no closer than I was a couple months ago. I just keep hoping that she knows
what she's talking about and eventually I'll stumble into something I love.”

“Is that the worst thing?” I ask. “Just…not having a real direction right now?”

“It's not the
worst
thing, but it's not the best thing either.” She digs up another pile of sand and lets it sprinkle onto my fingers, which are splayed out between us. “I mean, look at you. You're eighteen and you've been working for…how long? Seven years? Eight? You know exactly what you're doing, and you love it. You can take care of yourself. That's so cool.”

The bark-snort combo I emit involuntarily is an unfortunately dead-on imitation of a seal. “Are you kidding me? Yeah, I love what I'm doing, but I have
no
idea where I go from here. You know how many roles there are out there for an Asian-American actress? Me neither. At least you have a real education and will end up going to a decent college if you don't figure out the job thing. My parents are afraid I'm gonna wash up with the show in a couple years and end up unemployed, broke, and living in their house forever. And you know what? They're probably right.”

“Of course they're not right.” The anger in Bri's voice surprises us both, if her slight jolt backward is any indication. “Van, you're smart, talented, and gorgeous. You're
good
at this. I don't know what it's like to be a minority in Hollywood, but I know you're not even close to done. You're gonna be whatever you wanna be.”

I love her idealism and her faith, even if it's misplaced. The truth is,
Daylight Falls
has been a great ride and probably will be for another couple of years, but I've been doing this—and been best friends with Alexandra Duncan, Mistress of Hollywood Cynicism—for far too long to believe in miracles.

“That's not true for girls like me,” I tell her, trying not to sound as bitter as I feel. “Life's different for someone like Liam.”

“Ah, Liam.” Bri laughs. “He really is pretty, isn't he?”

I roll my eyes. “No comment.”

“Oh, right. I forgot you've been there, done that.”

“You know that was all your mother's idea, right?”

“Of course I know. Those kinds of plans are Jade's specialty.” She stretches her arms out in front of her, which makes her bangles jangle again. “Can't really blame me for not wanting to follow in her footsteps, can you?”

“Never.”

“But still, Liam always seemed to me like a decent guy. You really ripped him one tonight. I thought you guys were friends.”

“We are. We were. I don't know.” I inhale the calming salt air. “I thought we'd hang out more with Ally gone, maybe, or at least chill on set, but I feel like ever since she left, he's just throwing himself into this whole world that doesn't have a place for me or anyone else in it. And that includes Ally, which in turn makes
her
more distant, which sucks.”

“Maybe he's trying to keep himself distracted from the pain of his girlfriend being three thousand miles away. Speaking of things that suck.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I mutter.

“Hey.” Her hand covers mine. “It's okay if you're not a hundred percent sure what you'll be doing in five years. I mean, it has to be, right? If you're screwed, I'm
beyond
screwed.”

I laugh, squeezing her fingers. “Then, yes, it has to be. Because we're both gonna be fine. We just need to make some actual plans, or something.”

“And to move out of our moms' houses!” she adds triumphantly. “Definitely a solid goal for both of us.”

“I will if you will.”

“I will, so you will.” The confidence in her voice is unwavering, and it makes me smile. It's infectious. More than that, it's the first time I've actually felt like maybe I can make it happen, especially if I have someone trying to dig out of the same hole at the same time.

“We could do it together, even,” I say, growing excited now. “Get our own cute place. Something close to both the set and Jade's office.”

“Could we get a shaggy purple rug? I've always wanted a shaggy purple rug.”

I burst out laughing. “Of all things,
that's
what you want? Sure, we can get a shaggy purple rug. As long as there's enough space on the hardwood for our yoga mats.”

“Obviously. And fish—we should get fish. One of those really cool fish tanks they have in fancy hotels and whatever.”

“I'm pretty sure those are like a billion dollars,” I tell her sadly.

“Oh.” Her face falls. “Well, maybe just a dinky little goldfish bowl then. I've always wanted a pet.”

“I thought you've always wanted a shaggy purple rug.”

“That too. Shockingly, Jade wouldn't let me have either one.”

“I
am
shocked. I bet you'd make a great fish mom, too.”

“I totally would, right? I'd spoil those babies rotten.”

“I believe it,” I say sincerely. “You are a very excellent caretaker.” I realize then that her hand is still
on mine, and I hook my pinky around hers. “I really am glad you came.”

She swallows hard, but doesn't respond.

For the second time in two days, I feel like a complete and total idiot, and I quickly slip my hand out from hers. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean…I'm sorry.”

“You know, you don't flirt like a straight girl,” she murmurs, the words rolling right through my body to curl my toes.

My skin prickles with heat as a guilty flush steals over me, and I'm grateful it's hidden by the dark. I guess I
was
flirting, but…why? I mean, yeah, there's no ignoring that she's attractive, but it's not like she's the first girl I've ever noticed that about; I work in freaking Hollywood. And of course I like hanging out with her, and feel like I can talk to her—she's a friend. Period. That's all girls are to me.

Isn't it?

“I'm sorry,” I rasp again, and mean it.

“I'll stop.” She's silent. And then fingertips, soft and cool as they sweep through my hair, rest on the base of my neck. “No,” she says, softer now, her touch tingling my skin. “Please don't.”

Oh God.
The prickle of heat blazes brighter, lower, and there isn't any ignoring what it means. I don't understand how, or why, but I am turned-on beyond belief.

By a girl.

And I really, really don't want to stop flirting with her.

“I should go,” I say, forcing myself to stand. “We're drunk, and…” I don't know how to finish that sentence. I'm not even really drunk. Neither is she. But I don't want to start anything I don't know how to finish. Hell, something I don't even know how to start. What
could
even happen? My mother would go ballistic. My fanbase would revolt like crazy. I don't even know which of us Jade would kill first. And Zander…

Her jaw ticks, and I realize I've definitely said the wrong thing. “Yeah, okay. Have a good night, then.” She jumps up and starts to stalk back to Josh's house, and even though I know I should let her, I can't let the night end like that.

“Bri, wait.”

She turns back, silently.

“It's not…I mean, it's not you, or that I don't want… It's…ugh.” I'm not making sense, which is to be expected since it doesn't really make sense in my brain, either. “I'm with Zander, and your mom is my publicist, and things are just crazy.” I take another deep breath of cleansing salt air. The look on her face—a combination of hurt and anger—is clawing at my gut, and I know I have to say what I'm really feeling, even if it's too weird to process. “But…I'm not trying to confuse you.” I drop my voice to a near-whisper, even though no one else from the party has trickled onto the beach. “
I'm
confused. About you, and how I feel, and why for some reason I am still thinking about the fact that you called me smart and talented and gorgeous.”

For a second, her full lips curve into a smile, and I think,
I love your mouth.
Never have I looked at someone and thought,
I love your mouth.
But I do love hers. Then the smile vanishes, and she says, “You're right. You should go. Or I should go. Going should happen.”

I smile sheepishly. “Yeah, exactly.” Hopefully both of us will think more clearly in the morning, because this is a train wreck waiting to happen on infinity levels. “We'll talk soon, or something.”

“Yes. Definitely. G'night, Park.” She wraps her fingers in the chain of her necklace and takes off, leaving me staring after her, trembling, every inch of my skin on fire.

I feel like shit when I wake up in the morning, or maybe it's afternoon. It takes a minute of squinting to see the numbers on my clock, but no, it's only ten thirty. My instinct is to go back to sleep, but my mouth feels like I've chewed off the ashy end of a cigarette. After a minute, I know nothing's happening until I get a bottle of water.

Halfway to the kitchen, I freeze. There's a voice floating out of my kitchen. I'm pretty sure I didn't nail anyone last night, thanks to Chuck the Walking Cockblock, so who the hell is in my house?

I edge closer and hear, “I'm sorry, A. I was just having a really crappy day. It wasn't anything.” She pauses, presumably waiting for a response, and when I hear none, I realize I'm eavesdropping on Vanessa talking to Ally on the phone.

Right
. I completely forgot I let K-drama stay here last night. I've never seen her get too drunk to drive herself home, but she was definitely in no condition by the end of the party last night; she's a shitty enough driver sober.

I walk into the kitchen just as she's hanging up. Her back is to me, her elbows resting on the granite countertop of the island, and she's wearing the clothes I lent her last night—an old Clippers T-shirt and a pair
of boxers. I don't usually give a crap about legs unless they're wrapped around my neck, but I have to admit, hers are pretty nice.

She turns and casts an irritated glare at me. “Must you be such a creeper?”

“For your information,” I say, sailing past her to the fridge, “you're in my kitchen, in my clothes, at ten thirty on a Saturday morning. If anyone's the creeper…”

“It's too early for this.” She rolls her eyes, then nods at the cappuccino maker. “How do you make that thing work?”

“Fuck if I know.” I nab a bottle of water and take a huge gulp, swishing it around my teeth. “Ally used to be here to do it by now.”

“And of course you still haven't bothered to learn,” she mutters.

“Hey, you wanna do it? Be my guest.”

She scowls but makes no move toward it. I snort. Why am I not surprised?

“Do you have anything a little…simpler?” she asks impatiently.

“Not in here.” I love the look of the machine, but I think coffee tastes like ass. Even when Ally used to make it, it was usually just for herself. Anyway, it's bad for the pearly whites. “There's a Keurig in the guest house, though.”

She looks at me like she's waiting for the punchline. When it doesn't come, she looks helplessly at the cappuccino maker, sighs, and turns on her heel.

I follow her out; apparently, she doesn't realize the guest house requires a key. She taps her foot as I unlock the door, but she doesn't seem impatient, exactly. More like she's filled with nervous energy or something. As I watch her dive for the coffee machine,
I can't help thinking caffeine is probably a bad idea. Too bad she'd probably rip my balls off for saying so.

“What do you even do with this place?” she asks as the machine rumbles to life under her fingertip. “It doesn't look like anyone's ever slept here. I
know
Ally only pretended to when she was staying at Liam's.”

The place
is
a little sparse. “I dunno. My parents used to have people here, back when they came more often, but they both prefer to stay in Bel Air as much as possible. Anyway, it's really just a bedroom and bathroom.”

“Still, it has cool potential.” She slides one of the mugs on the table into the coffeemaker, presses another button, and little by little, the scent of coffee fills the air. “You should do something with it.”

“Like a sex den?” I ask, just as she says, “
Not
a sex den.”

I grin. “You gonna move out of your parents' place anytime soon?”

She mutters something under her breath that I don't catch, and I have a feeling I don't wanna ask her to repeat it. Then she grabs the mug, sprinkles in some sugar and one of those creamer things from the little hostess tray, and takes a long, deep sip without even waiting for it to cool.