“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I spit under my breath. Ofcourseshe’s fine. Ofcourseshe’s out here having fun, doing whatever the fuck she wants. Sabotaging tomorrow’s stunt by spending energy she should be saving, because she doesn’t care; she doesn’t care about anything.
I’m so incredulous that I just stand there as she draws closer. When the wave crashes and her board wobbles, she dives into the water.
“This is cute,” I call out. “Real fucking cute.”
Christine doesn’t miss a beat as she stands in the waist-high water, sliding her board under her arm and stepping toward the shore. “I thought I smelled that vape of yours.”
“No.” I shove my feet back into my sneakers. “We’re not doing this. I’m not talking to you.”
“You literally are,” she says with a light laugh.
“Not anymore.” I stalk back toward the set.Not ever again. Fuck.
“Hey, chill out, Mai Tai?—”
“Don’t fucking call me that. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Her voice approaches behind me, but I’m not looking. “Y’know, I don’t get you. You act like you get along with everyone, but you’ve had some problem with me ever since you got here.”
I whirl on my heel.
She’s right there, towering over me even though she stands on the lower sand.
“Okay, fine. Have it your way. You want to know my problem with you?”
“Yeah.” There’s a bite in her tone, frigid as the winter ocean. “I think I’d like to.”
“You’re fucking fake, that’s my problem with you.”
The words seem to impact with physical force, and she takes a half-step back. “Excuseme?”
“Here I thought we had an actual fucking heart-to-heart. I thought I was talking to a real person for once, not—notoh, Christine Evansworth, America’s Sweetheart.” The sing-song mocking is bitter even to my ear, but I don’t care anymore.
“I’m as real a person as you?—”
“These stunts aredangerous, Christine! Fucking dangerous. I thought you were finally taking that seriously—but no. What is this to you, your personal vacation? Get production to pay for you to go destination surfing and, hey, throw a movie together on the side?”
A growl rumbles in her chest.
Fear spikes through me, but I hold my ground. Fear and I are friends at this point. And god knows I need to be careful around Christine.
“That’s fucking unfair and you know it,” she snarls. “I work harder than anyone?—”
“Oh,youwork hard. Yeah. Okay. That’s why you’re out here surfing. Obviously.”
“You’re one to talk,” she snaps. “What areyoudoing out here?”
I’ve never been stunned silent before. First time for everything, I guess.
When my lungs work again, my voice is low, bitter. “I came out here to check onyou.Because I wasworried. Sure makes me an idiot, doesn’t it?God,you’re so self-centered.” I turn and walk away. I’m done.
“You came to check on me?”
“I’m not doing this. This isn’t my problem.”
“Mylo—”
“Just don’t fuck up tomorrow, okay?” The words are equal ice and venom.
