Someone to Stay Read online

  Does that make me weak? He asked himself. To let my anger control me?

  “Are you ready to try this again?” she asked him. She stood several feet away from him, not actually looking at him. Her eyes were trained somewhere beyond him, a perfectly manicured hand resting on her hip.

  “Are you?” he shot back. He lowered his voice into a tone much milder, less defensive. “I’m giving it my all, here.”

  Her only response was an incredulous sort of look as Dan walked back in, clapping his hands.

  “Alright, people. Let’s get this going!”

  At that, the two of them settled back into their places. Jake forced himself to forget the fight, to forget who was even in front of him. He refused to look at her as anything other than who she was - a costar, or, more like...just somebody that he used to know.

  Jake slept terribly; his phone had awoken him multiple times during the night as those at home got wind of the photo. Eventually, he’d put his phone on silent, damning it to hell as he flung it under his pillow.

  Now, in the early morning before work, he rested against the counter top in his trailer, closing his eyes and waiting for the kettle to boil. He was mentally exhausted and quite stiff; he rolled his head around, kneading his neck muscles with his fingers. It was sleepless nights like these that made him dread going into work exhausted and distracted.

  He thought of the previous day of filming, wincing.

  How many takes was it, he wondered? At least fifteen— way too many. Jake didn’t feel that the problem lay with him. His role in this scene was simple - all they needed from him was a little bit of empathy, a little bit of fear. The real work was meant to be done by Alexa. They needed tears, they needed vengeance. They needed something that she wasn’t giving.

  In other circumstances, he would have felt bad for her. Going into today, though, he could only feel frustration.

  The kettle began to whistle and he poured his tea. He felt hungry but couldn’t bring himself to cook this morning. He was way too tired to even think of doing anything more than curling up in bed and falling back asleep - but he shrugged that thought away. There would be no sleeping until tonight.

  His mobile began to ring just as he was taking his cup over to the bed. Setting his tea down, he pulled his mobile out. His mum was calling.

  She generally called him once a week, but he had a feeling he knew why she was calling now. A certain photograph was on the cover of multiple magazines she would have seen. He swallowed and answered the call.

  “Hullo, mum.”

  “Jake, dear...how are you?”

  The excitement in her voice was poorly masked, and he sat on the bed stiffly.

  “I’m just fine, mum. How are you? How’s dad?”

  “Oh, we’re doing great. Absolutely nothing to note since we last spoke. At least...on our end.”

  Her implications were clear. Jake refused to fall for the bait, at least not yet.

  “And, how’s the weather? I’ve heard you’ve gotten quite a fair amount of rain up there.”

  “Oh yes. And in July? It’s just dreadful.” She paused a beat, and then said, “I was at the grocery today, you know, and I saw something quite interesting.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, dear. Why, it was you, on the cover of the Sun, in the arms of a woman.”

  Jake’s face contorted into something of a twisted smile at that. This was the moment he told himself he could handle, the moment in which he told his mum not to get her hopes up.

  “Ah, well, mum...her name is Cassie. We’re just spending time together...enjoying each other’s company.”

  “You must tell me everything about her. You’ve no idea how excited I was when I saw it. I can’t remember the last time you had a girlfriend.”

  “Mum. She’s not...” He was about to say, She’s not my girlfriend. But that wasn’t quite right. “When filming is done, we’re going to part ways. We’ve already decided.”

  “What? How could you do such a thing?”

  She sounded genuinely shocked. Up until this point, he tried not to think too much about leaving Cassie; that moment would be hard enough without worrying about it before it even arrived.

  “It’s just for the best, mum. I travel a lot, I’m always working. She’s got her life here. It would be extremely difficult to maintain anything from so far away.”

  “But...Jake. You two look so...” she paused. “So happy.”

  “She does make me happy. We’ve gotten to know each other quite fast in such a short period of time. But I just can’t bear to string her along. That sort of relationship…it wouldn’t be good for either of us.”

  “But...” she trailed off, then changed course. “Alright. I won’t argue the matter any longer. But know that I disapprove.”

  “Noted.”

  Jake lay against the bed then, one hand behind his head, the other clutching his mobile. He closed his eyes, the exhaustion creeping in quickly. The scent of his tea wafted toward him.

  “So...how did you meet her?” his mum asked then, a note of mischief in her voice. Jake couldn’t help but smile to himself, remembering the way Cassie looked to him when he didn’t even know her name. Her calm exterior, her confidence.

  He explained this to his mum, and then began to explain how he’d left his mobile in the dining room, how they’d met. He told her about the very next night, when he’d decided to have dinner in the restaurant, leaving out that he’d gone simply to see her. He didn’t want her getting any more ideas than she already had. He told her about the conversation they’d had, and how he’d asked her out without even thinking about it. The memory felt warm to him now; a tender sort of feeling rested in his chest when he thought of it, and he smiled even wider.

  “She sounds lovely,” she said when he was done. “Perhaps by the time the film is done, you won’t be able to say goodbye to her after all.”

  Jake thought about that, not for the first time, though he’d tried to push it back.He shook his head.

  “It’s for the best that we do.”

  “Alright, dear.”

  The two of them said their goodbyes at this point; Jake placed his mobile on the small nightstand and sat up. He grabbed his tea, which had sufficiently cooled, and took a sip.

  He missed his mother - conversations like this reminded him that he’d gone too long without seeing her, and he would have to wait that much longer because of the shoot. He smiled softly, the sound of her voice still in his ears, and stood up, getting dressed, dreading the shoot but looking forward to calling Cassie that evening.

  He missed her, too - more than he could say.

  “Cassie!”

  Over the clang of dishes, the banging of pots and pans and vents and shouting, the voice coming from behind her was almost drowned out completely. Cassie turned, hand hovering over the screen where she was inputting an order for one of her tables. Trish was coming toward her, apron looking perilously loose around her front, a look of extreme alarm on her face.

  “Trish,” Cassie said, turning back to the computer. “What’s up? When did you get here?”

  “Just got here,” she replied, leaning against the metal stand the computer rested on. “So, you failed to mention that you and Jake are involved.”

  Trish did not sound as casual as she probably hoped, and Cassie shot a look at her quickly before looking back at the screen. She told herself to relax - Trish was a nice lady; she was unlikely about to guilt trip Cassie about this.

  “Yeah.”

  Cassie finished up her order and logged off, heading over to the window to pick up an order of spinach dip for another table. Muhammad’s eye caught hers, and she gave him a small grin.

  “I mean,” Trish said, coming right up next to her again, “that’s really...something, right? If I remember right, you said you didn’t even care about him not even two weeks ago.”

  “I don’t think I ever said I didn’t care about him,” Cassie replied, hastily, grabbing the plate and bo
uncing off. Trish followed, tailing her closely.

  “But you didn’t even know who he was.”

  “Yeah. I know. And then we got to know each other.” She felt unwilling to say much else; she remembered Jake asking her to keep private details private.

  “I don’t mean to bug you about it or anything. Just real surprised to see you on the cover of a magazine, Cassie.”

  Cassie kicked open the kitchen door and shot Trish another look. Was that...concern, on her face? It was gone as quickly as it came, and Cassie shrugged.

  “I’m surprised too.”

  They parted ways so Cassie could deliver the appetizer to her table and refresh a couple waters on the floor. Rick caught her eye from the hostess stand; she could see him watching the dining room from the doorway. She figured he didn’t pay attention to tabloids - he hadn’t said anything to her when she walked in tonight. Making her way back to the kitchen, Trish smiled weakly at her as they passed each other.

  “So, it’s true then?” Muhammad said when she approached the window. His mouth was in a perfect frown as he looked over his shoulder at her, his arms working furiously to toss pasta and shrimp in a pan.

  “Yes,” Cassie said. She placed her hands on the counter top, the metal warm from the hot kitchen. The other line cooks weren’t paying them any attention. One was chopping vegetables for a salad, eyes trained on his hands, and the other was holding a clipboard, face shoved inside the refrigerator, checking dates.

  “Hmm.”

  She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. He had already turned his head back toward his dish. Cassie sighed, wondering if Jake had received similar flack for the photo today.

  Pulling her phone out of her apron, she unlocked it and saw she had a couple of text messages, one from Jake and one from her mom.

  I hope you have a wonderful night. Call me when you’re done.

  Phone has been ringing off the hook about that pic of u and Jake. Can’t get my knitting done :(

  Cassie laughed at that, shaking her head and shooting her a quick reply: You have my deepest apologies.

  Was it paranoia to feel that nearly everyone she saw stared at her for a touch too long? She felt a strange sense of awareness as she floated between tables, that prickling in the back of her neck that told her someone was watching, but when she turned to see who it was, nobody was there.

  Yes, it’s paranoia, Cassie told herself toward the end of the night. The majority of the staff hadn’t said a word about the photo; they waved indifferently at her just as always. She took comfort in that - maybe it wouldn’t be so hard after all.

  At the end of her shift, after breakfast was set up and side work done, Cassie made her way out of the employee door and into the muggy night.

  Pulling out her phone, she opened it up and hovered over Jake’s name. She wanted to call him - to tell him about her evening, about the strange, paranoid feeling she’d had. But her finger instead hit another name, then pressed Call.

  She began to walk home, phone pressed to her ear, listening to the rings, waiting, hoping for the line to pick up.

  “Please leave a message after the tone.”

  Her first instinct was to hang up, but she stopped herself, taking a deep breath.

  Beep.

  “Hey, Sam. It’s Cassie. I...I was hoping you’d answer the phone, but I can understand why you haven’t. I just...” she paused, eyes drifting from side to side, the buildings beginning to blur as she tried to keep herself from crying. “I wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you that I miss you, and I wish I could explain everything to you. I hope that you give me that chance, but I can understand why you wouldn’t. I’ve been a really shitty friend, and I’m just so sorry.”

  She hung up there, dropping her hand to her side, gripping her phone tightly. She wondered when, if ever, Sam would talk to her again. Did Sam feel that Cassie was a lost cause, too much to handle? Was she so hurt by what Cassie had said that she couldn’t see past it?

  Do you think I’m this broken thing? Something you can just fix up eventually, with your smiles and your questions and your endless coffee dates and bike rides?

  The memory of her own words felt distant, like it had been someone else who had said them, someone resentful and bitter, someone she didn’t identify herself with. Surely she wasn’t capable of such spite? Surely it was some other hateful, angry person who had said those words? But no - she had to accept it. She could no longer hide behind a veil of apathy, she realized now.

  Cassie remembered with a sudden uncomfortable lurch in her stomach the look of pain on Sam’s face, the disbelief when she said those words. Cassie had tried to make it out like Sam was the bad guy, the one who had transgressed, but no - Cassie was the defensive one, the one in the wrong. She allowed herself to lash out because what Sam had said hurt - but it only hurt because she was unable to see past the death of her father. She was unable to forgive herself for letting it take over her life.

  No, she told herself. I didn’t let it take over my life. That would imply that I had a choice.

  She lifted her phone up again, trying to brush those thoughts away; they’d only hurt her further. Opening her phone, she called Jake just as she rounded the corner of her street.

  “I was wondering when you’d call.”

  The sound of his voice relaxed her almost immediately; he sounded so genuinely happy to hear from her that she could only smile for a moment before replying.

  “I had to make an unsuccessful attempt at talking to Sam before I called you.”

  “Still haven’t heard from her, then?” His tone was sympathetic; Cassie scrunched her nose and sighed.

  “Nope. I’m starting to wonder if I ever will.”

  “Now, don’t do that. You will hear from her.”

  She was approaching her house as their conversation drifted off into the normal catch-up call that she had gotten used to with him: he asked her about her night at work, she asked him about filming. His reply was clipped as he explained that he’d done a scene with Alexa and another actress she didn’t know; she remembered how he’d told her that Alexa wasn’t “fun” to work with. She told him about the mixed reactions to the photos - Trish’s curiosity, Muhammad’s indifference.

  By then, she had sat on the porch, her body slumped over in exhaustion, her face supported by her hand which was supported by her elbow resting on her knee. She didn’t want to get off the phone, though: she wanted to stay in this bubble, enveloped by the sound of his voice for as long as she possibly could.

  “When can I see you again?” Jake asked once their conversation died down. Cassie at up straighter and smiled into the phone, butterflies in her stomach. She wanted to say, Right now, to ask him if he’d come over just so she could feel his mouth on hers again; she felt a blush creeping up once she remembered the way they’d kissed the day before. The way her heart had raced, her breaths caught in her throat, the humming and buzzing that seemed to radiate from within her...there was a point in time not that long ago when she had given up on ever feeling anything like that again.

  “As soon as possible,” Cassie said then. She heard him chuckle into the phone, the sound as rich as music.

  “Perhaps Friday, then, if filming is done on time. Or Saturday, if not.”

  It was Monday. Cassie frowned, knowing that Jake had a full time job to deal with; so did she. But the idea of being without him for four days made those days seem…empty. Especially without Sam.

  “You just let me know,” she said, forcing a chipper tone she didn’t feel. She wondered if he too felt the absence, if he dreaded the next few days.

  “I will. But...I need to get to bed. Filming is early. I’ll call you tomorrow, Cassie.”

  They said their goodbyes and hung up. And even though she felt exhaustion like it was a living thing, she sat on the porch a little while longer, staring into the street, clinging to the sound of his voice.

  If she thought hard enough, she didn’t feel quite so a
lone.

  “Cassie, if you don’t smile, then I can’t get a good picture.”

  It was unbearably hot - her shorts and shirt and hair and shoes and even her stupid, stupid plastic pink watch were sticking to her. And on top of it, she had lost her new pair of Minnie Mouse sunglasses when she was on the Dumbo ride, which was basically for babies, so everything was way too bright so she couldn’t even see.

  Her dad and mom were standing there, staring at her, a disposable camera in her dad’s hand. They both looked as hot and impatient as she felt.

  She shot a forlorn look at Princess Jasmine, who looked like her face was about to melt off through her perfect white smile. Cassie heaved a great sigh and stepped a little closer to her - she could feel the weird satiny fabric of Princess Jasmine’s costume brushing against her legs and sticking there.

  “Okay, Cassie. Smile and say cheese!”

  She only mouthed it. There was a small click that she wasn’t sure if she actually heard, because it was loud, or if she had imagined it because she knew that’s the sound the camera made. As soon as she saw her dad lower the camera, she immediately left the woman’s side and went to her parents who both simultaneously nodded at Princess Jasmine in thanks and began to walk away.

  “I want to go on the log ride,” Cassie said immediately, waving her hand in front of her face in an effort to stimulate the air and simulate a breeze. It did nothing but blow warm air over her nose; she scrunched it and dropped her hand.

  “It’s a two hour wait, Cassie,” her mom said, exasperated. “Why don’t we wait for Peter Pan, instead? It’s probably a little shorter.”

  “Mom. I’m so hot I’m gonna die. Please let me get on the log ride.”

  “No. I’m not wasting so much time in line for a three minute ride.”

  “Why not It’s A Small World?” her dad suggested. “That’s a water ride.”

  Her mom shot her dad a look of irritation at that; Cassie laughed.

  “Yeah mom. Your favorite.”

  Her mom made a funny sound in the back of her throat, halfway between a growl and a laugh. “Fine. But if the wait is longer than 45 minutes, I’m out.”