If We Were a Movie

by Kelly Oram

  I was anxious enough that I might miss her flight by the time I got through security that once I was free, I took off running and didn’t realize I’d left my shoes behind until I came to a stop at the right gate. Imagine my disappointment when I realized Jordan’s plane was delayed and not leaving any time soon instead of the dramatic catch-her-right-before-she-boards-the-plane deal. So it wasn’t exactly Love, Actually, but it was close enough.

  Time seemed to stop when I saw her, and all the noise of the busy airport faded away. She looked so depressed, which made me happy in a really sick way, because I liked the thought that I was about to take her sadness away.

  She was staring into her lap and didn’t notice me even after I walked up right in front of her. She jumped when I finally spoke. “Hannah Montana?” I groaned with mock disapproval. “Have I taught you nothing about music?”

  She looked up at me, more than a little shocked. We stared at one another until I shrugged helplessly. “I decided I hate the ending of Shakespeare in Love.”

  Gasping softly, she sucked in a breath and held it while her eyes filled with tears. After a few seconds, she barked out an incredulous laugh. “Running through the airport to stop the girl from leaving?” She couldn’t quite achieve the sarcasm she wanted. She was too happy to make her voice sound dry.

  I shrugged again. “Seems to work in the movies.”

  She rose to her feet, and my heart started pounding at her nearness. “I bet you had to max your credit card to buy the ticket, too,” she said. Her voice had the tiniest quiver in it.

  I grinned. “More than you know. All they had left were first-class seats.”

  The restraint on her emotions finally broke. Laughter mixed with sobs burst from her chest in uncontrolled spurts. “Ugh, Nate, that is so cliché,” she groaned as she wiped water from her cheeks.

  “So what? Someone once told me it was all right to be cliché, as long as you can make it work.” I slid my hands low around her waist, pulling her so tightly against me that she shivered. “I promise you, I can make it work,” I whispered, brushing my lips over hers. I teased her with a kiss on the side of her mouth, then trailed my lips to her ear. “Don’t leave, Jordan.” I wrapped her even tighter in my embrace. “I love you.”

  She gasped and pulled her shocked face back to stare at me. “Y-you do?”

  My face softened and I gave her a rueful smile. “You know I do. All 31 flavors of you.”

  Laughing again, she threw her arms around me and buried her face in my neck, crying. The tears didn’t upset me, because I knew they were from relief. I understood exactly how she felt. “I love you, too,” she whispered as she clung to me. “I love you so much.”

  Once she got hold of herself, I brushed away the last of her tears. My thumb grazed her soft skin and my gaze fell to her lips. Her body tensed in anticipation and my mouth went dry, but there was one thing I had to ask before I indulged in the kiss we were both desperate for. “So, if we were a movie, how would we end?”

  She dragged her eyes from my mouth up to my eyes. It looked like it took effort. Her grin turned crooked. “Didn’t you listen to the song? I’d be your best friend, and you’d fall in love with me.”

  I shook my head, chuckling. “And you said I’m cliché.”

  She grinned. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

  “So bossy.”

  “Don’t make me kick you.”

  She tired of our banter before I did, and smashed her mouth to mine. Fade to black and roll the credits, because that kiss was a million times better than any cheesy fluff ending Hollywood could come up with. I could have stayed locked in it forever, except that I’d had to take my belt off in the security line and hadn’t stuck around long enough to put it back on, so I had to break the kiss and grab my pants when they started to fall down.

  Jordan looked me over with a great big smirk. I rolled my eyes, cursing Chris and Tyler for convincing me to go with baggy jeans instead of the pants I’d planned on wearing for the show. “My brothers wouldn’t let me wear my skinny jeans onstage. Something about not wanting us to be labeled lame indie emo rock. Never mind that Chris was wearing heavy eyeliner while they gave me that speech.”

  Okay, so maybe my brothers would always push me around a little, but hey, my ending couldn’t be one hundred percent perfect. My life’s not actually a movie, you know.

  I walked in the door to the sound of a shriek and a loud curse. That was followed by a heavy thud and a string of more grumbled curses. Chuckling, I set my sunglasses and messenger bag on the kitchen counter and quietly made my way to Jordan’s room, camera phone ready and recording. Whatever was going on in there was bound to be entertaining.

  When I got to her open bedroom door, Jordan was picking up a spilled suitcase nearly half her size off the floor and placing it back on her bed. She scooped up the pile of discarded clothing, muttering under her breath as she threw it back into the suitcase without bothering to refold or organize anything.

  Once everything was put back, the mound of clothing was much higher than the suitcase. It would never shut. But that didn’t stop Jordan from trying to achieve the impossible. She closed the lid and tried to zip it. When it wouldn’t cooperate, she got rough with the luggage, yanking it around, pounding on it. Finally, she jumped up to sit on it.

  It was as she whirled around to plop herself on top of the suitcase that she noticed me standing there, filming the spectacle. Laughing at the dirty look she shot me, I slipped my phone into my pocket. “And what movie would this be?”

  She frowned up at me. “The one where the girl has to go home for the whole summer to live with her parents—the ones who disapprove of her chosen career path even though she landed a crazy-amazing internship with Academy Award-winning director Zachary Goldberg—while her brilliant and talented boyfriend has to stay in New York to start recording his first album without her.”

  I tried not to grin because she was genuinely upset, but it was so adorable that she’d scored an internship with her favorite director working on a major film production over the summer, and she wasn’t able to be properly excited about it because it meant we’d have to spend the summer apart. “Hmm. Sounds like a real downer.”

  “Nate, I’m serious.” She looked at the monstrous, overflowing suitcase she was still sitting on and sighed. “I’m supposed to leave in two hours, and I don’t want to get on the plane.”

  “That’s because you haven’t had a proper send-off yet.” I pulled my distraught girlfriend off of her suitcase and into my arms. “Come on; leave the packing, and let’s go for ice cream sundaes at the café.”

  She wanted to hold her pout, but the side of her mouth quirked up. “Well. If you insist.”

  “I do. Colin is working, and he said he’d kill me if I didn’t bring you in to say good-bye before I put you on a plane.”

  She sighed again. “I can’t believe I have to leave both of you here and replace you with Mom and Dad. I need backup. I’m going to lose my mind. Do you know they are still fighting over who I’m going to stay with while I’m there? Dad is mad that I’m staying with Mom instead of coming to his new Malibu estate. Like I chose her over him or something. Never mind that I’m going to be working either in Mr. Goldberg’s LA offices, or on the Sony lot, which are both way closer to Mom’s place. And of course Mom is rubbing it in his face every chance she gets.”

  I tried to act sympathetic, but it was nearly impossible because I was sitting on a huge secret that had me in the world’s greatest mood. “You could always get your own place while you’re there,” I suggested as we took the elevator down to the street.

  Jordan shook her head. “I thought about getting a place, but renting just for a few months sounded like such a pain. It seemed easier just to crash at home in my old bedroom. Now that I have to actually board the plane in a couple hours, I regret that decision.”

  Chuckling, I pulled her into my arms and kissed the top of her head. “It’s only a few months. Everything w
ill be okay.”

  The elevator doors opened and Jordan released a heavy sigh of acceptance. “I know. I’m just going to miss you.”

  “Me too.”

  We left the apartment building in our customary leisurely stroll, hands tangled together and swinging softly between us. We’d taken a lot of walks together since the weather warmed up. There was just something about New York City in the spring. The sky was clear, it was a comfortable seventy degrees, the trees were in full bloom—it was so nice out that random strangers on the sidewalk were smiling at one another as they passed each other by.

  “I think this city’s growing on you,” Jordan said, breaking me from my reverie.

  I grinned at her. There’d been a ring of approval in her voice. “I think I’m not the only one.”

  Jordan looked up at the buildings lining University Avenue and nodded thoughtfully. “You know? I think I really will miss it this summer.”

  “It won’t be the same without you, that’s for sure.”

  Jordan stepped closer and leaned her head against my shoulder. I slipped my arm around her back and hugged her as we walked. “So, this movie you mentioned,” I said after we’d fallen into a bittersweet silence, “the one where the girlfriend leaves for the summer… I don’t think I like it.”

  Jordan sighed.

  “Maybe we should rewrite it,” I suggested. “What if the boyfriend goes with the girlfriend? Then the girl can spend her days getting coffee for her favorite movie director, while the brilliant and talented boyfriend—your words—fills the time recording his album in the LA studio. That way they don’t have to be separated and they can even suffer the disapproval of her parents together.”

  Jordan picked her head up off my shoulder letting out a soft snort. “Because, of course, the younger, wannabe rock star boyfriend from the dreaded East Coast has even less of a future than their disappointment of a daughter.”

  “Don’t forget ‘poor and uncultured’,” I teased.

  I’d gone home with her over Christmas, and it was very much a Ben Stiller in Meet the Parents trip. Neither of Jordan’s parents bothered to hide their disappointment that I wasn’t some Ivy League trust fund baby from a socially acceptable family with a future in finance. The day after Christmas, we caught the first flight to Syracuse.

  Jordan rolled her eyes again and I grinned, pulling her tighter against my side. “But they’ll escape the madness whenever they can,” I said, “and drive up the coast in a beautiful Ferrari until they find a nice, quiet beach somewhere.”

  Jordan closed her eyes as if imagining it vividly, and moaned with pleasure. “Could you imagine? I would kill for that summer—crazy parents and all.”

  “Me too.”

  We reached the café, and as I held the door for her, Jordan walked to the counter, still stuck in the fantasy. “Why did Pearl have to move away and take all of her crazy good luck with her?” she said. “This is going to be such a long summer.”

  “You’re telling me,” Colin whined as we reached the counter where he stood ready to take our orders. “What am I going to do without you for three whole months?”

  I’d feel bad for him if I didn’t know how much he was looking forward to this summer. Jordan had no sympathy for him, either. “You’re going to date your pretty dancer and wear cuter shoes than me,” she said.

  I laughed. Colin had landed a spot as a supporting character in the Broadway musical Kinky Boots. It was the perfect role for him. And, of course, he’d immediately fallen for one of the other cast members. They were about to celebrate their second “weekaversary.”

  Colin rolled his eyes, grinning. “He is really pretty, isn’t he?”

  We all laughed.

  “You’re right. Maybe this summer won’t drag after all.”

  Jordan’s melancholy returned. “Not for you, but it’s going to the longest summer of my life.”

  I was pretty sure it was going to fly by way too fast, but then, I knew something she didn’t. “I hope so,” I teased. “Because it seems that some of Pearl’s magic rubbed off on me before she left.”

  Jordan’s head jerked back, and she stared at me with both shock and hope. “What do you mean?”

  “Yes, Nathan,” Colin added. “Do explain.”

  I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer. “My manager called me a little while ago. The producers from NuSound that are supposed to work with me on my album have a pretty packed schedule, and their other clients are in LA. They asked if I wouldn’t mind recording in California over the summer.”

  Jordan gasped. “Are you serious? Because if you’re not serious, you will break my heart.”

  My smile grew even bigger. “Well, since I promised you months ago that I’d never break your heart, I must be serious.”

  It took a split second for the news to sink in, and then Jordan jumped at me with a squeal, tackling my mouth with hers in a kiss so passionate I could taste her excitement. “I can’t believe it!” she cried. “Nate, this is the best news ever!”

  “Not the best news. The company owns some fancy corporate apartment complex just for situations like mine and is putting me up in my own place while I’m there. It’s already set up. So if you don’t want to, you don’t have to spend the summer at home with your mom. You can stay with me. Be my roommate for a change, instead of me being yours.”

  “Deal!” She squealed again and nearly strangled me to death, her arms still around my neck.

  Colin’s wistful sigh kept us from kissing again. “You guys are so adorable. You’re going to have an amazing summer.”

  “Yes, we are,” Jordan said. “Starting right now. We need two hot fudge sundaes.”

  Colin laughed. “Of course you do. Coming right up.”

  After paying for our ice cream, Jordan and I sat at our usual table in the front window of the café. All hints of her depression had been replaced with joy. It made my chest tighten to see her so blissfully, perfectly happy. I wanted to make her look that way always.

  “I can’t believe you’re really coming with me to LA. If I didn’t know for a fact Pearl was halfway around the world, I’d accuse her of making it happen.”

  Halfway around the world or not, I still wouldn’t put it past the old woman.

  Jordan opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when Colin called out to me from across the café. “Nathan!” he said into the microphone where people performed on open mic nights. I knew what he wanted before he held up a guitar and pouted at me. “You’re leaving all summer. You have to sing me one last song before you go.”

  As Jordan and I laughed, Colin explained to the other uninterested café patrons that they were in the midst of greatness and were about to hear a special treat. “Our very own Nate Anderson is about to record his first album with NuSound Records this summer.”

  That got people’s attention, and they started looking around to see who the mysterious Nate was that would be singing for them. Colin grinned, triumphant. “Let’s give him a big hand, folks.”

  I was surprised when the people actually began to applaud. Maybe some of them had heard me sing before. Colin had pretty much made me a regular closing act on open mic nights over the last semester.

  “You’d better get up there, rock star,” Jordan said.

  “I know, I know. Before Colin starts doing his best Miley Cyrus.”

  As I got to my feet Jordan laughed and called out, “Sing me something pretty!”

  I willed my face not to give anything away. She had no idea. I’d asked Colin to make me sing today. I had the perfect song already picked out. Climbing onto the single stool Colin had set out, I noticed the shine in his eyes. He gave me a secret smile and handed me the guitar. “Thank you,” he whispered, choked up with emotion.

  I felt like I should be thanking him. I was about to claim his best friend, after all.

  Smiling back at my boisterous one-of-a-kind friend, I cleared away my own clump of emotions and looked out at the audience. “Thanks,
everyone. Um, my girlfriend asked me to sing her something pretty, so here goes. This one’s a personal favorite of mine. It’s by Train.”

  The room quieted down as I started to pluck away at the strings. The audience sat with relaxed smiles on their faces while I began singing a song about how forever would never be long enough to spend with the woman I love. I met Jordan’s eyes. Her smile was the only one I cared about.

  When I hit the chorus and sang the words marry me for the first time, the atmosphere in the room became charged with an excited energy. Several people gasped. Jordan’s jaw fell slack. Her chest rose as she sucked in a sharp breath and held it in her lungs. Then her eyes met mine, and I saw the entire world in them. “Marry me,” I sang again.

  I saw the exact moment she realized this was more than just a spontaneous serenade, that I was really asking her to marry me. That moment was indescribable. And completely worth it.

  I started the second verse, and her eyes filled with tears. Her jaw began to tremble. I’d never seen a woman look more beautiful. The café was full of people, all watching the spectacle, but somehow it was just Jordan and me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

  As I neared the end of the song, I rose to my feet and made my way across the room to Jordan. She covered her quivering mouth with her hand, but her smile shone through her glossy eyes.

  I timed it perfectly, and came to a stop in front of her right as I sang the last two words of the song: “Marry me.”

  The room was silent as I set the guitar on the table beside her, all except for Jordan’s soft sniffles. “You told me once to get down on my knees and ask you,” I said, dropping to one knee.

  Jordan sucked in another sharp breath.

  “There’s nothing fake about this proposal. The only movie I want to star in from now on is yours. Marry me, Jordan.”

  When I pulled out the ring I’d been carrying around in my pocket for over a week, her eyes spilled over with tears, and she laughed through a sob. She bobbed her head enthusiastically, choking out the word I was waiting to hear. “Yes. Of course, yes.”