Under the Lights

Oh God—my parents. What the hell would my mother say if she found out I’d just kissed a girl? If she knew I like one? I’m a big enough disappointment to her now, choosing my acting career over college and a traditional career path. She’s never really voiced her thoughts much about my relationships, but she also hasn’t taken them seriously. Pretty sure that, in her mind, I’m still gonna get over all of this and settle down with a nice Korean boy someday.

I look down at where Bri’s thumbnail is still caressing my hand, and a little shiver racks my body.

No, I’m pretty sure I won’t be getting over this soon.

“You okay?” she whispers, stopping the path of her nail and squeezing my hand instead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to joke. I know this is a big deal.”

I just nod. I can’t say anything else. It is a big deal. I need to talk about it. I want to talk about it. But I need to gather my thoughts first, to understand what it all means. All I’ve really considered is how much I want the girl in my arms right now; I’ve barely put any thought at all into what it means to be…

Gay.

Holy crap.

Am I gay?

I gulp in a breath of air and step back from Bri, leaning against the sink. I need my own space right now. I need to breathe. I need to think.

Except now that I’m a step back, I’m just staring at her boobs.

I am so, so gay.

“Hey.” She cups my cheek in her palm. “You look like you’re gonna be sick. Maybe we should just get you home.”

Except the thought of going home makes me feel even sicker. I can’t see my parents right now. My normal go-to escape is sleeping over at Ally’s, but even if I wanted to stay there without her — and I’m sure her mom would be more than cool with it — it’s too late to call and ask. The idea of staying in a hotel, surrounded by more strangers, nauseates me even more.

“Van?”

I blink up at her. Her eyes look softer than I’ve ever seen them — with concern, but also, my stomach flips as I realize, with hurt.

Right. Having someone look like she’s gonna hurl two seconds after you’ve made out with her probably isn’t the most flattering.

“It’s not you,” I blurt instantly. “It’s me.” Oh God. I did not just say that. But it’s obvious from the way her face falls that oh, yes, I did. “Okay, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…a lot.”

“I know.”

I can tell she wants to mean it, but she’s wringing her hands, and her eyes won’t meet mine. Seeing her in pain, and knowing I’m the one who did that, feels worse than everything else combined. No matter what I’m worried about and how messed up I am, the one thing I know for sure is that I really, really care about her. I can’t have her thinking any less.

Sliding my hands into her hair, I pull her mouth to mine for a kiss I hope makes my feelings crystal clear. It takes her a second to relax into it, but only that. As she steals my breath completely, I tell myself that, in the end, this should be what matters — how perfect and right this is — but I’ve been in this business too long to forget that my life doesn’t entirely belong to me. That even the personal decisions I make affect my job and my future. And given how uncertain that future is post-Daylight Falls, I know this isn’t as simple as most people would think it should be.

As I’m sure Bri thinks it should be.

Either way, I know we’ve been missing for far too long, and I reluctantly pull back. “We have to go,” I say softly, hating doing so because I’m not sure when I’ll see her again. Not sure when I’ll feel like I can.

“Oh, right,” she says sheepishly. She steps to the side so she can check herself out in the mirror, and I let myself watch her readjust that absurdly hot shirt for just a second before I get to work touching up my own dress, hair, and makeup. “I’ll go first, I guess. Keep an eye on your phone, and I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come out.”

I watch in the mirror as she slips out the door, and then I apply another coat of lip gloss to replace the one I just left on her mouth. My hand is shaking like crazy, and it takes three attempts to get it on neatly. I have one eye on my phone the entire time, but it never lights up. I toss the gloss back in my purse and pick up the phone, opening my own text.

I know you’re asleep, I text to Ally, but I really need to talk. Can you call me when you wake up?

A tiny part of me expects her to respond a few seconds later, as if she’ll sense just how badly I need her, but she doesn’t. Instead, my phone lights up with a text from Bri that says, OK go.

I let myself out of the bathroom and start back for the table, only to see that Josh and Co. have already made themselves comfortable there under the watchful eye of the camera. I don’t, however, see Bri anywhere. Then Josh spots me, and I know I can’t go looking.

“Hey, where the hell have you been?”