The Real Real by Emma McLaughlin, Nicola Kraus Page B

lot.
    “Cool.”
    Suddenly he stops backing up, and I follow his stare behind me to the XTV van barreling down the street, screeching to a stop between us. The side door rolls open, and I half expect armed men to leap out.
    Kara, purple rings under her eyes, leans forward. “Hop in, Jesse.”
    “Oh, sorry, I can’t today.” I jerk my thumb at the building behind me. “I’m working a double shift.” And having a hot lunch date!
    “Yeah, we took care of that. So hop in, we had to get you in makeup five minutes ago.”
    “You took care of it?”
    “We quit for you. Come. In the van.”
    I step forward, trying to make sense of it. “You talked to my boss?”
    Kara drops her head to let out a tortured moan. “My assistant did. It’s fine. No more Prickly Crap for you. Now, will you please get in the van?”
    Speechless to no longer have a job and crushed to no 108

    longer have a date, I look to Drew, and he shrugs helplessly.
    “You’re up at dusk, Drew,” Kara yells across the street.
    “Guys have a five-thirty call at Jase’s! Jesse. Now.”
    “Okay. Okay . . . well, I just have to—” I lift the pole to indicate I’m going inside.
    “Whatever, they can bill us for it. Please, Jesse.”
    Laying it down on the sidewalk, I walk to the van door, murmuring, “You quit my job for me?”
    “You can thank me later.” Kara reaches out and, in one tug of my hand, pulls me in.

109
    REEL 8
    A month later finds me frantically wiping off my face as I stare out the trailer window at the exuberant Friday tide of students flowing to a trickle from the side doors. I have given Caitlyn as much space as I can bear, and today is my breaking point. I miss her so freaking much, and she has to miss me at least a little.
    “Later, Jesse.” Nico stuffs her towelettes into the small garbage can Tandy holds out and jogs down the steps.
    “Later.” I give a halfhearted wave as I think I spot—
    yes, that’s Cay’s unmistakable streaked blond ponytail swinging. I grab my bag, lob my foundation-caked cloths into Tandy’s can, and head for the trailer door.
    “Thanks!” I call to Tandy. “Bye, Kara!” I yell back to 110

    the monitor room as I step outside.
    “Seven a.m. call time tomorrow!” she shouts.
    “Got it!”
    “Hey!” Drew backs up on the pavement to clear the swinging metal. “It’s you.”
    “Hey!” I scan over his ski hat to keep sight of Caitlyn. Crap. She’s with Jennifer Lanford. Again. Maybe I shouldn’t count so much on the missing part. My eyes dart back to Drew, who suddenly looks like he’s not sure what to do with his hands. “Sorry, yes, yeah, it’s been crazy this week.”
    “Every week. We’re mike packs passing in the trailer.”
    I nod—they’re only a few feet from her car. “Yeah.”
    “Right, so I should probably . . . ” He points at the door.
    Caitlyn reaches for her keys. “I really have to go.” I touch the arm of his jacket as I step around him. “Sorry!”
    “Fine, but you owe me a muffin.”
    “Deal.” I grin, my heart flicking from excitement to fear as I jog toward the Camry. “Cay!”
    She whips her head up from where she’s just tossed her coat into the backseat. I wave. She gives me an empty smile.
    Jennifer turns from the open passenger door to glance from Caitlyn to me with slightly raised, twice-pierced eyebrows that indicate she’s been filled in. Great.
    “Hey.” Caitlyn crosses her arms over her thin sweater as I slow in front of the passenger side.
    “Hey!”

111
    We take each other in over the roof. So . . . here goes. “I was wondering if maybe I could, um, hitch a ride. Maybe treat to pizza or whatever. Are you guys hungry?”
    “Starving,” Jennifer intones. “Those burgers were foul.”
    Caitlyn sighs heavily. Ugh, I want to be an hour from now, past this part where I’m an awkward stranger with the person I want to tell about it later. “Fine,” she says.
    “Shotgun.” Jennifer lifts the front seat forward, and I lumber