From Twinkle, With Love(33)
I laughed and pushed his chest, avoiding an answer.
Sahil’s phone beeped in his pocket. “Huh. I must have reception again.” He fished it out and looked at the screen. “It’s Skid and Aaron. ‘Did you see the news? Apparently big storm on the way.’ They want to postpone so no one gets drenched.”
We looked at each other, our cold, wet clothes clinging to us, our hair dripping, and then burst out laughing.
Sahil typed back a response and slipped the phone back in his pocket. “It would’ve helped if they’d sent that text about an hour ago.”
“Ah, well. Next time we’ll know to check the weather before we come.”
Sahil smiled a half smile that made my heart stutter. “I enjoyed being stuck here with you, though. I’d do it again.”
I bit my lip. “So would I.”
That’s when I realized the truth: I’d get stuck with Sahil in a cabin any day of the week, anytime. I’d even get stuck with Sahil in an econ class because I like being with him so much. I’d choose spending time with him over peanut butter chocolate ice cream. And over the Peanut Butter Chocolate Mountain Majesty cupcake.
So where the heck does that leave me with Neil?
At least I’ve managed to put Sahil off for now. I think what I need to do is meet up with N. See how I feel. Maybe?
Love,
Twinkle
Ten
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Sorry to bug you
I know I just wrote to you, N, but I think we need to meet up. Certain life situations have made things all jumbled up in my head (and my heart). I just need to see who you are.
—Twinkle
Wednesday, June 10
17 days until Midsummer Night!
Homeroom
Dear Mira Nair,
I know my life is a mess right now with Maddie, Sahil, N, etc., etc. But I cannot even worry about that because …
TODAY IS THE DAY I HOLD MY FIRST AUDITIONS!
I hadn’t expected this day to come for many, many years. But today I get to sit in a room and watch people perform. And based on my decisions, a film will evolve—one that has the power to start conversations and get people talking about things like feminism and art.
Have I mentioned I’m a sixteen-year-old girl from Colorado Springs? A junior at PPC?
I keep wondering if I’m qualified to do something like this. This is a huge, huge responsibility. It just keeps hitting me that this isn’t a two-minute video I’m going to upload to my YouTube channel. This is big. Hundreds of people are going to see this at the end of the month. This is going to influence how people think. What if I ruin it? What if I have nothing to say?
What if, what if, what if?
Arrrgh. It’s too late to back out now, even if I wanted to, which I don’t—not 100 percent. And like Dadi says, I have a feeling that if I don’t take this opportunity, I’ll look back and kick myself.
So here I go, onward and (hopefully) upward! Wish me luck.
Love,
Twinkle
Wednesday, June 10
AP US History
Dear Ava DuVernay,
I need to reread the story about how you got your start making films. In the meantime, let me tell you a little story about mine. You know how I was hoping at least ten people would show up to auditions?
Well.
So Sahil and I were sitting in Ms. Rogers’s classroom at lunch, waiting until 12:20, which is the time we put on the flyers that people should show up and wait outside the door. We kept looking at each other, smiling, and then looking away, both too nervous to talk about the cabin and all that stuff (even though every time I looked at Sahil my gaze automatically fell to his lips—traitorous boy-oglers.)
Sahil sat there, too tall for the desks (his legs and arms jutted out and he kept jittering because he was so nervous), and I just closed my eyes and tried to visualize success because I read that all the big athletes do it and it’s not hokey like I used to believe. I visualized the door bursting open and this horde of people swarming in and begging to audition. I could hear some noise, but I knew what it was: people going about their business in the hallway. Would anyone come to our audition?
Then Sahil said, “It’s time!” He leaped up, bumped the desk with his thighs, and sent it sliding off toward the corner. His face flushed, he dragged it back into place.
I stood and took a deep breath. Forget ten, I said to the universe as we walked to the door. Just give me six people. Just so I don’t look like a total failure.
We opened the door. And stared.
It was like a tsunami of noise. I’m not even lying. And it wasn’t because people were loitering in the hallway at lunch either. They were all there for us. For my film, mine and Sahil’s. I just stared at them. Sahil’s paralysis broke first. He turned to me, grinning widely.
“A little more than ten,” he said, giggling. He giggles!
I shook my head slowly. “How are we even going to manage this?” I said faintly, and Sahil leaned forward because he legit could not hear me because it was so loud.
But then Skid and Aaron, who I had not seen come up, began shepherding people into a semblance of a line and Sahil hopped into the fray going, “Okay, people, let’s have some order. No, don’t break the producer, please!”