Ryan wipes his hands on a napkin. “I haven’t heard much from Connor since he went to that book signing thing.”
“It was a romance convention,” Connor offers. “Rom Com Con.”
Ryan snorts, “That’s a stupid name. Anyway, what have you two been doing since then? Don’t pretend you haven’t been seeing each other. The way you two went at each other in high school, it was obvious you liked each other.”
“Okay,” I laugh. “Hold on. You’re joking, right?”
Ryan laughs, “Don’t play dumb, Electra.”
And like that, I forget all the weirdness of being here. “You’re insane, Ryan. The only feelings I had for Connor were hate. Hate, hate, and more hate. Connor is the biggest asshole I’ve ever met!” I’m giggling as I say it.
Connor grins sheepishly. “Still am.”
“See?!” I motion at Connor with both palms turned upward. “Who dubbed me Lightning Dolt? Or Brown Out? Or High Vulvage?”
Both of them are snickering.
“Or Benjamin Skanklin?”
“That was Chelsea Hawkins,” Ryan says confidently.
“Whatever!” I roll my eyes. “Connor called me that and everything else every single day! Or did you guys forget all that?”
“Don’t look at me,” Connor says cagily, reaching for another chip.
“You guys are worse than climate change deniers. It happened. People at North Valley were horrible to me! Well, you weren’t, Ryan. But Connor was! Geesh! You weren’t there when he tipped over the stupid portable toilet!”
“Yeah I was,” Ryan says.
“What?”
“I was there to make sure it didn’t tip all the way over. Do you think Connor stood that thing back up by himself?”
“Are you serious?”
He nods. “Those things weigh hundreds of pounds empty. With you in it and a full tank, it must’ve weighed over 700 pounds. Connor couldn’t lift that much all by himself.”
“I didn’t need your help,” Connor scoffs.
“You wish,” Ryan chuckles. He looks at me. “I made him let me help when he told me his plan during the graduation ceremony.”
Wow. Everyone really was an asshole to me in high school. Even Ryan. If the bombshell of being in Ryan’s house wasn’t still the smoking crater of surprise that it is, I would be furious at both of them. What Connor and everyone else did to me was terrible. I guess I got over it, but it still hurts to this day whenever I think about it. At that moment, Ryan leans forward for another chip, coming into the light. I get a clear view of his disfigured face. I can only imagine that the pain Ryan carries makes mine look insignificant.
“Let it go, Electra,” Ryan says. “I did.” He leans over and grabs Connor by the knee. “If it wasn’t for this asshole, I would’ve died in that fire.”
All I can think is that if it wasn’t for stupid Connor, he wouldn’t have crashed his car in the first place.
Connor looks guilty as hell.
Ryan sits back in his chair. “You guys need to be together. It’s obvious.”
“What the fuck?” Connor blurts. “What did you do with Ryan Hansen? And what the fuck happened to me not telling you about whoever I was bangin because it made you sad, you big baby?”
Ouch. I can’t believe Connor revealed something so personal about Ryan right in front of me.
“It’s time I come clean,” Ryan says, his face wrinkling into a dented smile.
“About what?” Connor chuckles. “Are you gay or some shit?”
“No, dumbass. I met someone.”
“What?!” Connor is shocked. “When? Who? Why the fuck haven’t you told me?”
“Because I didn’t want to jinx it.”
Connor jumps up from the easy chair. “Well fuckin tell me, Hansen! When do I get to meet her?”
“Soon. I hope. She’s French. She lives in France. Her name is Cecile. She’s also a burn survivor. We’ve been talking on Skype for six months. My high school French is coming back to me. She can cover her burns with a scarf, so she’s going to fly out for Christmas. I was gonna wait until then to tell you. She’s beautiful, Connor.”
“No fuckin way! Do you have any pics?”
I’ve never seen Connor this boyishly excited. None of his cocky macho artifice. This is the real Connor Hughes. The one I’ve never seen before.
Ryan nods. “I’ll show you. Come on.”
We follow Ryan upstairs to his bedroom. It looks like any other high school boy’s bedroom. Ryan may be our age, but I imagine his life has worked out very differently than your average 25 year old’s. Unlike downstairs, the curtains are open and cool light pours into the room. He wakes up his laptop and opens some screenshots of a young woman sitting behind a computer in a different bedroom. Her face is flawless and genuinely beautiful on the left side, but savage burn scars twist up her neck and finger over her crooked jawline and up past her cheekbone on the right. Based on her radiant smile, you wouldn’t think the scars bothered her at all.
“That’s her?” Connor asks.
“Yeah. From talking Saturday.”
“She’s a fuckin fox, Ryan!”
“I know, right?” Ryan grins.
“When are you gonna bang her?” Connor quips.
“Fuck, C. Is that all you think about?”
“When I see a hottie it is.”
I can’t decide if Connor means it or if he’s trying to make Ryan feel normal about himself. I realize it doesn’t matter. The interaction between Connor and Ryan is perfectly normal. And that is a miracle. “She’s beautiful, Ryan. I’m so excited for you.” I mean it and look him right in the eyes, which are a sparkling green gold in this light. His beauty shines from his face.
“Thanks,” he grins.
Connor chuckles. “I’ll buy you a case full of condoms for your Christmas present.”
“Connor!” I blurt.
“What? His dick still works. Oh, shit. Her vag isn’t burned, is it?”
I grimace, but just as quickly remember how normal all this is.
“Yes, Cecile has a working vag,” Ryan groans.
Connor grins at me. “See? He already asked her about her vag! This is awesome, Ryan. I’m so fuckin happy for you, bro.”
Ryan glances at the photo of Cecile on the computer screen. “Yeah. Me too.” He turns to Connor and they share a long look, both of their faces completely open and vulnerable.
I shudder, holding in tears.
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
ELECTRA
“That’s so awesome Ryan met someone,” Connor muses, sitting beside me in my car.
I’m driving around aimlessly. I don’t know what else to do at the moment. “I know, right? If it wasn’t for the internet, he probably never would’ve met her.”
Connor sighs, “Amazing shit, technology.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shit. You need your interview, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I was thinking about something else.”
“What?” Connor has a huge grin on his face.
I’m not used to it. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen it before today. “Earlier, when you said we could never be boyfriend and girlfriend, was it because of Ryan?”
His grin is gone.
I pull the car over to the sidewalk and park so I can look at him. “Please tell me, Connor.”
He stares out the window for a long time.
“I know this is hard. I can’t imagine what it’s been like with Ryan all these years. I don’t pretend to understand what he or you went through, but—”
He whips his face around, furious. “That’s right! You don’t understand shit, Warmoth!” He kicks the door open and jumps out, barreling down the sidewalk in the opposite direction my car is pointing.
Am I missing something?
Obviously.
But I’m not missing the way my heart races and my hands shake. I fold my arms against my chest and try to hold everything in.
What the hell
is wrong with Connor? Is he crazy? Why would he act that way? Ryan basically gave us permission to date. But apparently, Connor only wants sex. Only that seems too simple. There’s something I’m missing here. But I can’t think of what it might be.
Then again, maybe I’m not missing anything.
Is it possible that Connor Hughes is a basket case and I’d be foolish to pursue anything with him? Something tells me I would be asking for heartbreak if I opened up to him. I don’t want to go through that again. Once was enough. Dylan Montgomery nearly ruined me.
I lean my forehead against the steering wheel and sigh.
One thing is for sure.
Connor Hughes makes me miserable.
That fact hasn’t changed one bit since day one.
In the mean time, I have mere hours to finish this godforsaken interview. If Connor isn’t going to help, then I’ll have to figure something else out.
But what?
I’ve got it.
I put the car in gear and make a U-turn.
I have a plan.
Chapter 16
CONNOR
I’m fuckin miserable.
I go out drinking every night for two weeks straight. Tons of chicks throw themselves at me. All I manage to do is throw up on one or two of them. I don’t care. I don’t want to hook up with any of them anyway. I can’t even get a hard on.
But that’s okay. When I get tired of this booze bender, I’ll get it up in no time and go on a pussy bender. Then I can make up for all the fuckin I’ve missed. The only problem with being sober is the nightmares always come back. I hate that shit. No wonder I used to drink so much back in the day. Drinking kept a smile on my face. I didn’t want Ryan knowing how miserable I felt about everything. Shit, I didn’t want to know how miserable I felt. If Gloria hadn’t come along and pulled me out of the gutter, I’d probably be dead already. Too bad she turned into a possessive money-hungry bitch.
Man, I don’t want to think about all this shit.
I need to get back to either some serious drinkin or some serious fuckin ASAP.
I haven’t gotten a single text from Lex since taking her to Ryan’s house. It’s for the best. Her and I are a bad idea. I’m better off fuckin randoms. That’s the life for me. Not knowing any women for more than a screw or two.
The only problem is that people are starting to recognize me. I blame TMZ. And L.A. People in this town are more obsessed with celebrity and fame-whoring than any place else I’ve been. I don’t want anything to do with it.
I avoid Ryan’s house. I don’t know why. I should be happy for him. Shit, I am happy for him. But I’m not happy for me. And I don’t want to bother him with my shit. He has enough of his own. Just because he has a girlfriend in France doesn’t mean he can walk out of the house without people staring at him.
Why should my life be any easier?
So I hole up in my apartment and let the world pass by.
Gloria has called a bunch of times and left messages. I won’t answer the phone, and I won’t answer the door when she comes by. But I listen to the voicemails. She has work for me. Not just more book covers. Now that people have seen my face, I guess I’m the next new thing. Men’s Fitness wants me on the next cover. So does Men’s Health. I don’t give a shit. They’ll stop calling eventually. I don’t want my face out there any more than it already is.
I never bothered to call Xavier Soto at Torrent Films because: why? I’m not an actor. I don’t wanna do a fuckin movie.
There’s more important things than being famous or making money.
I don’t really know what happened with the Trending Magazine interview. Maybe Lex got enough from our conversations to put something together to keep her boss happy. Good for her. I don’t want to bring her down too.
I drag myself out of bed where I’ve been staring at the ceiling for the last two hours and open my fridge. Shit. No more beer. I’ll have to go buy some. It’s almost dinner time.
A sixer of micro brew stout hangs from one hand as I walk back from the grocery store. I tip one of the open bottles to my mouth and swallow creamy brown beer. I love this shit. And I don’t give a shit that I’m not supposed to be drinkin in public. There are never cops around this part of L.A. anyway.
When I get back to my apartment, my phone is blinking. A text from Lex.
Can you be at a photo shoot tomorrow at 11am? It’s for the Trending cover. Ryan will be there. Here’s the address…
What the fuck?
Is she serious?
Ryan at a photo shoot?
I blurt a laugh that echoes in my empty apartment.
Why the fuck not?
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
CONNOR
The photo studio is a brick building in Hollywood. I buzz the intercom and give my name and they buzz me in. The chick at the front desk walks me to the big back room. It’s set up with studio lights and a gray backdrop. People mill about getting shit ready.
Ryan stands in a corner talking to a random dude who nods at everything Ryan says. He’s wearing mirrored shades, the L.A. Dodgers cap I gave him two years ago, and a black bandana over his face.
I walk up, smiling. “Dude, you look like an outlaw tagger. Where’s your can of spray paint?”
“Hey, man. I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”
“I figured I had to run interference for you if anyone got out of hand. What the fuck is going on?”
“We’re doing a cover shoot.”
“We? What the fuck are you talking about, Rye?”
“It was Electra’s idea. She wants me on the cover too.”
“Like this? In a fuckin mask? Fuck that shit, man.” I’m pissed. What was she thinking? Did she trick him into doing this? Into wearing a fuckin Halloween costume instead of showing his face? What kind of shallow shit is that?
“No, man. I just wore this for the ride over. I left it on so nobody would stare at me.”
I snort, “You look like a fuckin criminal and you think no one is going to stare?”
“Not in Hollywood,” he laughs.
“You’re right about that shit. Did anyone ask for an autograph thinkin you were Banksy or some shit?”
“No. But I should tell people I am. Or say I’m that Shepard Fairey guy. I think he lives around here somewhere.”
“You’re a goon, Hansen,” I snicker and nudge his arm with my elbow, but not too hard. His scars still bother him after seven years. He’s always putting lotion on to keep them from drying out. “Are your parents here?”
“Yeah. I told them I needed a chauffeur since I was going to be a big star now.”
“In your own mind, Hansen,” I joke and look around the room. I spot his parents at the craft services table pouring coffee for themselves. I wave, “Hey, Mr. and Mrs. H!”
They wave back and his mom says, “Hi, Connor!”
I’m about to go talk to them when the sound of clicking heels on concrete stops me.
“Hey, Connor!” Lex comes walking up, rockin the tight skirt and glasses, looking hot as fuckin hell.
“How did you talk him into this shit, Warmoth?” It’s good to see her, but I’m not gonna act like it.
“It was really both our ideas.” She smiles at Ryan. “I mentioned to Ryan that I was, um, touched by the interaction between you two. Since you told me your side of the story, I asked Ryan if he wouldn’t mind telling his.”
I’m blown the fuck away. “Are your parents okay with this, Rye?” They’re very protective of him.
He shrugs. “I’m twenty-five. They can suck it.”
I smirk, “Are you sure you’re up for this, bro?”
He nods, “I keep seeing that Caitlyn Jenner thing on TV and all I can think is that guy is a fucking weirdo. But you know what? I’m just like him. Bruce Jenner was a guy who got up every morning and saw a face in the mirror he didn’t want. How am I any different? People stare at me every time I walk out my front door. Same thing for Jenner. But he’s not afraid to show the world how w
eird he is. He, I mean she, is risking her life putting it out there. But she’s normalizing it. Maybe burn survivors need someone like me to put my face out in public with no apologies. If people see burn survivors all the time, they’ll get used to it. Ever since Jenner outed himself, and you got the balls to show your face at that Rom Com Con thing, I thought maybe it was time I grew a sack and did it too.” He puts his arm around me. “And what better way to get my message out there than by riding your coattails, C? I like the idea of having your ugly mug next to mine.”
“Why?”
“To make me look better, dumbass!”
I grin at him.
Lex smiles at me hopefully.
I want to fuckin cry.
I’m so proud of Ryan, I start to fuckin tear up in front of both of them.
“What do you think?” Lex asks like she’s asking my permission to do the shoot.
“Yeah.” I’m all choked up. “Let’s do it.”
<<<<<<<>>>>>>>
ELECTRA
“Check that shit out,” Connor says appreciatively, admiring the finished cover of Trending Magazine while leaning his muscled tattooed forearms on the coffee shop table beside me. The upcoming issue featuring Connor and Ryan on the cover and my in-depth interview with both of them won’t hit the stands for another week, but I got an advanced copy from Vince today.
The cover line reads: SCARS. Below that in smaller type, the pull reads: That Heal The Heart.
We sit outside at a sidewalk cafe in Beverly Hills near Rodeo Drive, enjoying the end of summer weather while people in expensive clothes with expensive hair and expensive plastic surgery stroll by with expensive designer shopping bags on their arms. Every few minutes, a priceless sports car rumbles by. Business as usual in upscale 90210.
My arm presses against Connor’s. “You guys look great together. I can’t believe how well the photos turned out.”
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