Darkhearts by James L. Sutter

Author:James L. Sutter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

17

The following week was torture, of the best possible kind.

We’d woken early the morning after our sleepover, full of giddy recognition of the lines we’d crossed. The sound of my dad in the shower had let us avoid awkward parental questions, and with a quick kiss at the door Chance had slipped away down the street to call a Lyft. I’d retreated back to bed, to lie fuzzy-headed and content in sheets that smelled liked him.

Now that I’d broken a key seal with Chance, all I could think about was arranging a repeat performance. But the world had other plans. Chance had to catch a plane down to L.A. that night for a cameo in a movie, and wouldn’t be home until the following Friday.

Thus began one of the longest weeks of my life. I was comforted by the fact that, if I was ridiculous in my infatuation, at least Chance had it just as bad. Texts hummed through the ether between us, a thousand different subjects that all meant I’m thinking about you. Interspersed were pictures of the film shoot (which mostly looked like people standing around with big lights), plus random sights in L.A. and—of course—an impressively stocked craft services table.

One picture was a selfie of him in costume, all ripped denim and fingerless gloves. His hair was a giant rockabilly pompadour that would have made Denny proud.

I texted him a winky emoji. Look at you, Mr. Movie Star.

Hardly, he texted back. Apparently this is how they think high schoolers dress? But hey, at least they cast the Asian kid as the bad boy instead of the nerd, so hooray for progress.

Once upon a time—like, say, two weeks ago—the thought of Chance gallivanting around Hollywood would have had me boiling with jealousy. And I’d have been lying if I’d said a part of me wasn’t still there. But for the first time, its space was being crowded by a new emotion: pride. My boyfriend was in a movie. I did everything I could to stomp down on the jealous Old David and bulk up the easygoing, enthusiastic New David.

The constant parade of texts did not pass unnoticed by Ridley. While I knew I still couldn’t tell her the truth, I paid the Friend Tax by sharing selections from his behind-the-scenes photos, carefully stripped of all context.

“Wow!” She peered eagerly up at my phone from where she lay flopped like a seal on my beanbag, laptop and SAT prep booklet spread out before her. “I can’t believe we know someone who’s in an actual, real-deal movie-film-for-theaters.” She shut the lid on her laptop. “That’s really cool that you two are becoming friends again.”

“Yeah.” If only she knew.

“Seriously, David.” She sat up, perching cross-legged on the sack and fixing me with her most mature look, which for Ridley was pretty damn mature. “I know how long there’s been bad blood between you two. That’s not easy to get over.” She reached out and grabbed my foot, shaking it lightly. “I’m proud of you, dude.

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