From Twinkle, With Love(21)



And I stare at him and then at Maddie, who’s staring at me, and then I stare at him again and he puts one finger on his lips and says in a confident but snooty voice, “Yes, hello. This is the Zenith Talent Agency calling on behalf of Twinkle Mehra. Ms. Mehra is in the Springs for just a few days and would love to stop by to sample your wares for her newest movie.”

I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing, and Maddie giggled and stepped away to get ahold of herself.

“Right,” the female voice on the phone said, sounding suspicious. “Who did you say you represent again?”

“Twinkle Mehra, darling,” Sahil said, sitting back and kicking his feet up on the table. “She’s very avant-garde, very new, but so up-and-coming. You know, there’s already Sundance buzz for this project and you would be credited. Of course, if you’re too busy, Karen at Perfect Props in Denver already has her scheduled first thing tomorrow.” It was like watching a magic trick. Sahil had completely transformed, his confidence like new clothes on him.

“No, no,” the voice said quickly. “We would love to have, er, Ms. Mehra come look at our, er, wares. What time is good for you?”

I almost peed my pants just like that one time at Maddie’s. I couldn’t believe Sahil was pulling this off. “Let me check her schedule …,” Sahil said, riffling the pages of my notebook, which was on the table, and looking at me questioningly. Anytime is good, I mouthed. He nodded and got back on the phone. “How does eleven a.m. tomorrow sound?”

“Perfect,” the voice said, sounding relieved. “We’ll see you then.”

“Excellent. See you soon.” Sahil pressed end, swung his legs back down, and we all burst out laughing at the same time.

“Oh my God,” I said, kicking his shoe. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“I think you need to be in the movie,” Maddie said, almost choking with laughter. “You were so smooth! ‘Twinkle Mehra, darling’!”

“No, no, I’m just the producer,” Sahil said, chuckling. “And part of being the producer is taking care of my director.” He winked at me.

“This is so cool of you,” I said.

“I just want to make a great movie,” he said, reaching for his lemonade slushie and shrugging. “And I want to support you so you can bring your vision to life as much as possible.”

Something inside me blinked awake. Here was someone who was so passionate about his art, he refused to let small things like obscurity hold him back. He just leaped into it, somehow knowing he’d make it all work.

I want that, I realized. I want to be honest and brave and confident in my art.

Laughing a little, I said, “You know who you reminded me of a little right then, with your legs on the table and everything?”

He grinned. “Michael B. Jordan. I get that a lot, actually.”

“No,” I said, swatting at him. “Neil. You had that same confident, ‘you will do as I ask’ air that I could never pull off in a million years.”

His smile got dimmer and dimmer as I spoke. “Oh,” he said, itching his ear. “Right.”

I glanced at Maddie and then back at him. “Are … are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He forced another smile, but I could see his heart wasn’t in it.

There was a beat of silence, but no one rushed to fill it. I looked at Maddie again, but she shrugged lightly. Sahil was looking off into the distance.

“You guys,” I said finally, eager to break this weird little moment. “We could have costumes from Thoroughly freaking Thespian tomorrow! We’re so legit!”

“We’re so legit it hurts,” Sahil said, holding up his glass of lemonade, thankfully having shaken himself out of that stupor. Maddie and I clinked it with ours. “To new partnerships,” he said, but he was looking just at me.

“To new partnerships,” I said, grinning. “And fabulous costumes.”

“And lead actresses!” Maddie said, and then we all laughed again and happily slurped our slushies.

Things are finally falling into place and I’m over here like, Is this life? I can’t wait for tomorrow! Saturday-morning costume shopping—huzzah!

Love,

Twinkle





Seven



Saturday, June 6

21 days until Midsummer Night!

My room


Dear Valerie Faris,

I should not be allowed to talk to boys. There should be a federal law. The Twinkle-Versus-Cute-Boy-Communication Act. You may think I’m being dramatic, but I assure you I’m not.

This is what happened: Sahil picked me up at ten thirty this morning. He came in and said hi to my parents and Dadi and called them “Uncle and Auntie,” which made their day. Dadi offered him some of her Parle-G biscuits, which she only does to the most deserving visitors—and Oso. (That’s because we have to go all the way to the Indian market in that shady plaza with the exotic fish store. It’s owned by this guy with orange hair and gold teeth who freaks Dadi out.)

He looked nice today too. He was wearing a cool Blair Witch Project T-shirt, which I secretly coveted the entire day. And his hair was gelled. I’d never seen it like that before, but it suited him. I kept sneaking peeks at him as we drove from my house to his place.

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