Page 17 of Love Scenes

“What? What’s the face for?”

“Nothing.” He taps his fingers on his jeans. “Seems like a load of shit is all.”

My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me?”

“If you asked me about my career and I told you I’mtaking each day as it comes, you’d never let me live that down.”

He’s right. And I hate him even more for knowing that. So I double down. “Well it’s true.”

“All right then, what is each day bringing you, Sloane?”

“You can judge me all you like, but I’m not actually here to impress you.”

“Hmm. You’re deflecting.”

“And you’re being annoying.”

“That sounds like an upgrade from yesterday.” He leans back, arms folded across his chest. “Whatever is really going on, I hope you’re not done with acting forever.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Please stop paying me empty compliments.”

The smirk falls off his face, and we plunge into a silence so strained I search for something unaffected to say and find a surprising amount of remorse bubbling under the surface instead. The problem is, I really can’t tell if he’s serious. And it’s hurtful for him to keep pretending that he is.

“You think I go around telling everyone in town they’re actually good at their job?” he asks finally.

“Yes.”

He waits before he speaks, observing me. Thinking.Calculating.

“Well, I don’t,” he says, daring me to ask for elaboration.

Another stretch of quiet threatens to consume us. “We need to rehearse,” I remind him.

He checks the time on his phone. “Can’t we be friendly with each other for a little longer?”

I wish it wouldn’t get me into trouble to gut punch him. “I don’t need to be your friend.”

“Okay. Perhaps I could be something less than your mortal enemy then? For at least another minute or two.”

“Please. I don’t have enough time in the day to waste on making you mymortal enemy. What are we? Medieval knights?”

He laughs, like I was trying to be funny. Which maybe I was. Maybe it does amuse me a little, to spar with him. Just the tiniest amount. “C’mon Sloane. You hate me. It’s clear as day.”

“Actually, Joseph, I choose kindness. Thank you very much.”

He laughs harder. Which was potentially my intention.

“Can we get back to work now?” I ask, fighting off a smirk.

“Fine. I lay down my sword. Your wish is my command,” he says with a hand pressed to his heart.

On the soundstage,the cameras are set up around Calvin’s apartment. His place is across the hall from Elise’s. Since their second kissing scene, the one that leads up to their big love scene, takes place at dusk, our lighting crew works to create a hazy purple-hued glow coming in through Calvin’s living room window.

Tyler sits ramrod straight in her director’s chair as Mom looms over her, tapping her foot on the base of one of the camera stands. Mom’s arms are tightly crossed, and her head bobs along with every word. She’s wearing wedge sandals with socks today, a look I was confident we’d banished from her wardrobe years before. If she didn’t have a stylist, she’d probably wear this on a red carpet. For all her strengths, fashion has never been one of them.

When I get close enough to hear their conversation, I catch Mom saying, “So I can’t stay?” in her most accusatory tone. I attempt a one-eighty, staying uninvolved, but Mom sees me. “Is Sloane allowed to stay?”

“Mom. It’s not personal,” Tyler whispers. A life of mouthing words to each other in the quiet of my bedroom has made me an expert at deciphering her softest tones, and this is one notch above soundless.