From Twinkle, With Love(61)
thanks for the vote of confidence Skid
<text message 1:28 a.m.>
From: Aaron
To: Sahil, Skid
Don’t you mean vote of conFIGence lol
<text message 1:28 a.m.>
From: Skid
To: Sahil, Aaron
was that another plant pun? smdh I’m out
Saturday, June 20
Sahil’s car yet again
Dear Ava DuVernay,
Sahil’s playing music and seems to be focused on the road, so I’m back.
I’m trying hard not to falter under his gaze. He occasionally glances at me and smiles hesitantly, so I haven’t completely blown it with him. I hope not, anyway. I don’t think I did much wrong besides what I said to Maddie, but … I don’t know. Something just feels off. Here, between us, and inside me. Also, Sahil was texting while he was getting gas. Was he texting about me??
When I was finished with the last interview, I took my camera off the tripod and walked through the cabin, aimed for the back door. As I walked, I held the camera up and ended up getting quite a few other shots of conversations at the party. If nothing else, I can use some of it to pad out the footage at the end. Too much footage is always better than too little.
Lowering my camera, I opened the sliding glass door and stepped outside. There was a glass-walled room with a hot tub off to the right, but I avoided all the screeching, writhing bodies over there, picking my way through a long path that wound off to the left into a grove of aspen trees instead. There was a half wall there, and I sat on it, setting my camera down and wrapping my arms around myself. The stars were silver in the night, and I tipped my head back and studied them. There was a weird lump in my throat that wouldn’t go away and I knew it had to do with Maddie’s and my conversation (aka screaming match). Strange, because it was obvious even to the most unobservant person that our friendship had been on its last legs for a long time. No matter how much I’d rallied and fought and wanted to believe otherwise, I think I always knew that in my heart.
“Hey.”
I started at the soft voice before taking in the Cabin in the Woods T-shirt and the shorts, the gentleness of his brown eyes. “Hey, Sahil.”
“Mind some company?” he asked, gesturing to the wall.
“Nah. Come sit.” I scooted over.
We sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the whisper of the wind in the aspen leaves. “This is nice,” Sahil said. “It beats the shrieking hot tub chaos over there.” He thrust his chin in the direction of the people. “Can’t really hear it from over here, though.”
I grinned. “That’s why I picked this spot.”
“Smart. I went that way first and saw Oliver in his leopard-print Speedo. More like Speed-No.” He shuddered theatrically.
I laughed and bumped him with my shoulder.
“So, the interviews go okay?” His voice was suddenly more serious.
“Yep. All done.”
He nodded; I could feel him watching me. “I ran into Maddie inside.”
I glanced at him. “And?”
Sahil sighed and looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. “Twinkle … is this what you want?”
“I’m making the best movie I can make, and that includes the behind-the-scenes interviews. I thought that’s what you wanted too, Sahil.”
“I do. But what does getting people to backstab each other have to do with making a good movie?”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, maybe that’s not artistic enough for you, but this is the sort of thing that grabs people by the throat. This is a social commentary. It’s a mirror I’m holding up for people to see how they behave when no one’s around to watch.”
Sahil studied me for a long moment, until I was almost squirming under his scrutiny. “So this is art?”
I couldn’t believe he wasn’t getting this. “Yeah.”
“It’s not revenge?”
I looked away and let my hands drop. “I already got the third degree from Maddie.”
He put his arm around me and I snuggled up, feeling warm for the first time all night. “I just don’t want you to do something that isn’t you, Twinkle,” he said softly. “It’s not worth it.”
“What’s not worth it?”
“Changing who you are,” he said, looking down into my eyes.
I swallowed and looked away again.
“Because I fell for you, you know.” I started to protest, not wanting him to feel obliged to tell me what he liked about me just because we’d been arguing, but he continued, undeterred. “The funny, passionate, kind Twinkle Mehra. Not this new version of her that’s all twisted up and angry.”
I stared at Sahil, feeling goose bumps crawling on my skin. He was talking about shiny, future Twinkle just like I’d always talked about her to myself. Only, in his case, he thought shiny, future Twinkle sucked. Was he right? Was I losing myself completely in my desperate bid to become her? And was that what I wanted?
“Okay, look,” he said when the silence stretched out, pulling out his phone. “I’ve got the classic Frankenstein on my phone. What do you say to a little midnight viewing?”
“Right now?”
He grinned. “You got somewhere else to be?”