From Twinkle, With Love

by Sandhya Menon

  “What are you complaining about?” Skid elbowed him. “You were all excited last night about getting to talk about your underground bands.”

  Aaron blinked and looked momentarily caught out. “Uh, yes, but …” He looked around. “Sahil’s going to talk about Roger Ebert, an old dead guy who loved movies way more than a normal amount!” he blurted out suddenly. “He’s bringing in the poster and everything.”

  Every head at our table swiveled to look at Sahil. “So what?” he said, thrusting his chin out. “The man’s a legend. Our loss is tremendous.”

  Brij and Matthew snorted, but I smiled. “I agree with Sahil. I mean, there are some people who deserve legend status and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’d bring in my poster of Ava DuVernay if it weren’t falling apart.”

  He bumped me gently with his shoulder. “Thanks, T. I knew my director would have my back.”

  Brij was watching us intently. “Well, I’m going to be bringing in my E-3000 Digital Study Buddy,” he said, looking directly at me. “It has a built-in bank of SAT vocab words.”

  Everyone just stared at him. “Er,” I said finally, because he was still looking at me. “Great, Brij. That’s awesome. You should remember to tell Maddie about it too.”

  “So, what are you bringing in?” Aaron asked me, folding his giant pool-noodle arms on the table.

  “I’m not sure yet,” I said, taking a swig of milk.

  “Maybe you could bring in your camera,” Sahil said. Our arms were resting on the table together, and the hairs on his brushed mine lightly. An interesting and not altogether unpleasant little ripple went up my spine, but I ignored it.

  “My Canon?” I said. “I don’t know. … I need it to make our film.” I’d gotten it for a total steal on Craigslist because the lens cap was missing and the handle was broken, and even then it had wiped out my entire savings account.

  “No, I mean the other one,” Sahil said, his brown eyes sparkling as he looked at me. “That vintage Kodak you brought to school in eighth grade?”

  I shook my head slowly. “You remember that?” I’d been so ridiculously excited that I’d slept with it for a week.

  He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his food. “I mean, yeah,” he said softly. Brij and Matthew were arguing loudly about cryptocurrencies and Skid and Aaron were debating which was more important to society, botany or music, but I could barely hear them. Sahil glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “It seemed important to you, so.”

  I didn’t even know Sahil had seen it or realized it meant so much to me. Dadi buying it at the flea market was the first time someone in my family had acknowledged my dream of becoming a filmmaker. I’d leveled up that day. I wasn’t even sure Maddie remembered anymore that I had the Kodak. “That’s sweet,” I said, looking down at my food too. It was hard to meet his eyes all of a sudden. “Maybe I will bring it in.”

  “Grab,” Sahil said, and I heard the smile in his voice.

  “Definitely grab,” I said, smiling too.

  Your movies were a lot about insider/outsider status, Sofia, and I wonder what you’d say about me sitting at this table (ostensibly a loser table, but populated by some of the funniest, kindest, most talented people I’ve ever met). I tossed my hair and laughed extra hard just so Maddie could see how happy I was, even though half my heart was over there, beside her. It’s not the most mature thing I’ve ever done. I’m running out of ideas, though, to show my ex-BFF that I won’t just wait around forever. But at the same time? I’m not ready to let her go.

  Love,

  Twinkle

  Friday, June 5

  AP Econ

  Dear Dee Rees,

  After lunch, Sahil and I talked about our movie project and how we were going to watch Dracula together tonight at Maddie’s. (But then Mr. Rivers poked his head out of class and told Sahil to stop flirting and get to class. Sahil and I both turned red and purple respectively. Come on, Mr. Rivers. Don’t you recognize a BUSINESS MEETING when you see one?)

  We decided that we’re going to take notes on iconic scenes, costumes, and anything else that sticks out to us that we want to include in our movie. We were both so excited, we were talking over each other and laughing all giddily and stuff. I have never had anyone be as exhilarated about making a movie as I am. This must be how Dean and Sam Winchester feel every time they go on a hunt together. (I am the cooler, bad-boy Winchester and Sahil can be the tall and gawky-but-still-kinda-built Sam.)

  Only six more hours till Dracula!

  Love,

  Twinkle

  Six

  Friday, June 5

  The Tanakas’ backyard

  Dear Nora Ephron,

  Tonight was the most fun I have had since … I don’t know when. So Papa dropped me off at Maddie’s place—

  Oh, wait. I do know when. Tonight was the most fun I’ve had since that time in fifth grade when Maddie and I were having a sleepover at her place but then sneaked off in the middle of the night (Mr. Tanaka was in his studio, and when he’s painting, nothing gets through to him) and walked around her super-fancy neighborhood drawing “edgy” Dr. Seuss quotes on the sidewalks using sidewalk chalk (my favorite: one fish, screw fish, red fish, fool fish). Then the next morning we watched from the window as Lyla came out and just stared and stared at our artwork, this stupefied look on her face. It was hilarious and we laughed soooo hard. Actually, I peed my pants a little, but then I took a shower and changed into Maddie’s clothes and she swore she wouldn’t tell anyone. (She didn’t.)

  Anyway. This was just as fun as that.

  So, as I was saying, Papa dropped me off at Maddie’s place, and there was a blue SUV in the driveway. I figured it must be Sahil’s, and then my stomach did this weird fluttery thing, thinking of our conversation in the caf. I muscled through it and rang the doorbell, and Maddie answered wearing a gorgeous pink halter dress and wedge sandals.

  “You’re here!” she squealed, and leaned in to kiss me.

  “Yeah.” I followed her in. “Are you going somewhere?” Lyla, who had also been an artist and an intellectual in her home country in Eastern Europe somewhere and was now Mr. Tanaka’s creative consultant/household manager, had put some fresh orange hibiscuses in the vase on that big table in the foyer. I knew for a fact she did this only when Maddie had guests over. It was kind of a big deal when she stopped doing that when I visited because she considered me family at that point. Seeing them now hurt my feelings, but I figured—and hoped—she’d done them for Sahil more than me.

  “No. I thought I could hang out and watch with you guys?” Maddie darted me a look as we headed downstairs. “If … that’s okay?”

  Ugh. It was hideous that we were having this conversation, both because I wasn’t sure if Maddie wanted to hang out with me and because she wasn’t sure I wanted to hang out with her. “No, yeah. I want you to stay.”

  She smiled a small smile. “Good. Sahil’s already downstairs.”

  Wow. I’d forgotten how fancy Maddie’s house was. The walls were lined with super-expensive-looking paintings, both Mr. Tanaka’s and from other artists, and there were little lights beaming down on them like we were at an art gallery. Maddie’s basement is bigger and nicer than my entire house. We hung left and then passed through big double doors under a sign that said, THE THEATER in big gold letters.

  Sahil was in the theater, making a fresh batch of popcorn with his back toward us. He was wearing a blue T-shirt that hugged his shoulders and shorts that skimmed his hips and fell to his knees. One of his gigantic sneakers was untied, which would never happen to Neil. I felt a squeeze of affection for Sahil.

  He looked over his shoulder and his face blossomed into a crazy brilliant smile. “Hey, Twinkle!” He gestured to the popcorn popping behind the glass doors of the machine. “Hope you guys are okay with extra butter, ’cuz that’s the only way I fly.”

  “Well, then, I hope you’re okay with M&M’s in your popcorn,” Maddie said
, looping an arm around my shoulders, “’cuz that’s the only way we fly. Right, T?”

  I was in total shock that Maddie’s arm was around my shoulder and that she’d said “we” about her and me and that she still remembered our popcorn ritual from our sleepovers. We hadn’t had one in more than a year.

  I was starting to get emotional whiplash. Maybe a braver person would confront Maddie head-on. But I just wanted to hang on to the moment as long as I could.

  “Right,” I forced myself to say, just before the silence became a little too long and awkward. “Definitely.”

  “Hmm, all right. Well, I’m an open-minded dude. I can try that.”

  I laughed and walked up to him and the popcorn machine and grabbed a bottle from the lower shelf. “But you also have to add the caramel sauce or it’s no deal.”

  Sighing, he said, “Well, they say sugar comas are manageable these days,” as he reached in to grab the popcorn with a scoop. His hand hit the hot metal part, though, and yelping, he jerked back. “Holy mother of kilojoules, that’s hot!”

  “Oh my God, are you okay?” Without even thinking about it, I grabbed his hand and closely inspected the red part. “Oh, whew. It doesn’t look too badly burned. You should still run some cold water over it, though, just to be sure.”

  Letting go, I looked up at him. His hand remained suspended between us, and he had a goofy expression on his face. “Um,” I said, pushing my braid over my shoulder and feeling self-conscious at the way he was looking at me. I mean, he’s a boy. Who knows why they do half the things they do. He could’ve been thinking any number of unflattering things about me. Though, to be honest, he just looked sort of … amazed. And I was beginning to realize I’d extended unasked-for physical contact. Again. Like I hadn’t learned my lesson with that whole pencil on the thigh thing. I mean, not that Sahil didn’t have nice, big, manly hands that I 100 percent did not regret touching. But still. “Are you okay?”

  “N-no, yeah, no. Absolutely.” He let his hand drop and reached for his popcorn, but his expression didn’t change. Something about the way he kept darting sidelong glances at me made butterflies jam out in my stomach.

  Maddie was watching us with a sly little look on her face, so I cleared my throat and immediately put three feet between me and Sahil. Still looking smug, she walked over to the bar and asked, “You guys want a drink?”

  For a minute I didn’t know if she meant a drink drink. So, I just said, “Um … I’ll have a Coke?” and then wished I’d said it less like a question and more like someone who’s completely comfortable with the fact that she doesn’t drink alcohol. I’m usually okay with my choices. But sometimes around Maddie, I forget that.

  “Me too,” Sahil said, bringing three bowls of popcorn over to the theater seats. He handed one to me and set another one down. “Okay, these have been carameled and M&M’d, so I think we’re just about ready to begin our sugar inhalation.”

  Maddie brought us three glasses with little umbrellas in them, all set on a nice glass tray. “Okay. Drinks are a go. You guys ready?”

  I smiled at Sahil and then at my ex-BFF as I caught our reflections in the TV screen. Our faces were shiny, three pairs of brown eyes glowing. I took a deep breath. “Ready.”

  Okay, so I knew Dracula was a classic. And I knew that Bela Lugosi was an epic actor from the ancient world whom people like Sahil still look up to today. I knew the director of Dracula, Tod Browning, was talented, because people have been talking about his work for decades now.

  But somehow, I never connected all those facts with the idea that I’m gonna have to do him justice. And not just that, but I’ve now undertaken the task of gender-swapping this brilliant movie, which means people are going to be doubly interested to see what I do with it.

  If I do it right, it could be like this giant coup for the women of PPC and beyond. It’ll say to the world, “Look, a movie by a teen girl of color! Yes, women direct movies too! And we don’t have to rely on the same old tropes—Dracula can be Dracu-lass!” But if I do it poorly … maybe saying I might never want to direct anything else ever again is too extreme, but I might never want to direct anything else ever again.

  During the best scenes, Sahil would meet my eye in the dark. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking; I just knew my pulse quickened every time. And one time he looked at me, I smiled, and he almost upended his entire bowl of popcorn.

  But during the bad scenes, I’d laugh and roll my eyes at him. That bat? So fake. Also, I had no idea how much people in the thirties liked melodrama. When I did that, Sahil would throw popcorn at me. On purpose this time.

  Eventually the credits rolled and Maddie switched the lights back on. I sat there, staring straight ahead. “Um, Sahil?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re going to hate me.”

  He swiveled in his seat. “Impossible.” We looked at each other for a beat, my mouth going dry. “Ah, I mean, why do you say that?” he amended hastily. Maddie snickered, but I chose to ignore her.

  “There is no way I can do Browning or Lugosi justice. Zero chance.” I shook my head. “He’s a superstar, you guys. And I’m just some … some kid from Colorado Springs. I’ve never even directed a real movie before!”

  Sahil came to sit by me. “If anyone can do this, it’s you,” he said, leaning forward. “So maybe you haven’t directed a movie before. But that’s just mechanics. You have the soul of a storyteller, Twinkle. I’ve watched your YouTube videos, okay? You have the ability to make people bare their real selves when you’re holding a camera, and not many people can do that. You and Browning aren’t as far apart as you think.”

  I swallowed, touched that he’d checked out my videos. I’d mentioned them in passing at lunch. “You really think so?”

  “I know so.”

  We gazed at each other, the moment stretching on. I forgot Maddie was present, watching everything. I forgot what a Maddie even was. What was happening? Sahil was not the Roy brother I needed. But somehow, when I looked into his eyes, I saw myself the way he saw me: as someone talented and capable, as someone who could do this.

  We sat there in silence until Maddie burst into our moment like a rampaging elephant. “Um, excuse me? Did you two watch the same movie I watched?”

  We looked at her. “What?” I said.

  She laughed. “Oh my God. That was so over-the-top and ridiculous! T, you’re a wayyyy better filmmaker than that guy Brownie ever was.”

  Sahil pinched the skin between his eyebrows. “Browning. His name is Browning.” Then he looked at me. “Is she for real?”

  I nodded. “Maddie thought Psycho was stupid too.”

  Sahil clutched at his chest. “You … you didn’t like Psycho?”

  “What?” Maddie said, sipping her Coke. “Anyone could tell there was something very, very wrong with that Norman Bates. Like any woman would even stay at his creepy-ass hotel in the first place!”

  Sahil stared at Maddie, and I laughed. “Okay, whatever our feelings about Psycho, can we just focus on Dracula right now? Now, Maddie has a point. Some of those scenes were pretty hilarious.” When I saw Sahil open his mouth to verbally murder me, I hurried on. “But others were classic. Like that line, ‘I am Dracula. I bid you welcome’? We have to shoot that.”

  Sahil’s face lit up like Dadi’s face at Diwali. (It’s all about the sweets for her.) “Yes! That’s exactly what I was thinking!”

  I nodded, pointing to the notebook page on my lap, which was filled with scene-blocking diagrams, bits of dialogue, and costume ideas. “We need to keep it creepy, but charismatic creepy. Whoever our Dracu-lass ends up being, she needs to be just as captivating as Bela Lugosi.”

  “You mean like this?” Maddie asked, whipping a throw around her shoulders and tying it at the hollow of her throat. Her entire persona transformed. Suddenly her eyes had a flinty look, and her smile was predatory. She shook out her hair and stalked over to Sahil. He pretended to swoon, just like Mina in the movie, and Maddie bent cl
ose to his throat, pausing just short of putting her mouth on his skin.

  I was enchanted.

  Okay, so if I’m being completely honest (which I think is the point of a diary), I felt two things. Enchanted was 99 percent. I was also … well, if you wanted to put a label on this sort of thing, I guess you’d say jealous. Just 1 percent, though. I think it was something about seeing Maddie so close to Sahil after we’d just shared that moment, which was ridiculous, obviously. But I was definitely not more than 2 percent jealous. Three percent tops.

  So, anyway, I sat up straight and stared at Maddie. Sahil was doing the same thing. She tucked a lock of straight, shiny black hair behind one ear and laughed. “What, you guys? Was it bad?”

  “Um, Maddie?” I said, my voice sounding faint, even to myself. “Can you pretend to be Dracula and say, ‘I am Dracula. I bid you welcome’?”

  She took a deep breath and that steely-eyed, creepy seductress was back. “I am Dracula,” Maddie said, her voice reverberating with power and dominance. “I bid you welcome.”

  She paused, and then she was just Maddie again.

  “Sahil?” I said, and this time my voice was squeaky. “I think we’ve found our Dracu-lass, don’t you think?”

  “Um, yeah we have,” he said, his voice full of awe. We were both staring at Maddie, our mouths hanging open.

  She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Are you serious? I’m going to be the lead in your movie?”

  I nodded. “Do you have any other hidden talents you aren’t telling us about? Can you build a stage using your bare hands? Manufacture a full house out of thin air?”

  She laughed. “I don’t think so.” Then, after a pause, she squealed, “I’m going to be an actress!”

  That sort of broke Sahil’s and my paralysis, and then we all began jumping up and down and shouting and yelling until Lyla came downstairs and shushed us, saying that Mr. Tanaka was on the verge of a breakthrough about how his latest piece might be about the Dadaists’ unwitting altruistic donation to the modern zeitgeist. He absolutely could not be disturbed, she said. Then she bribed us with homemade strawberry lemonade slushies if we’d go out in the backyard for the next hour. So that’s where I am now.