Off Screen

by Josephine Traynor

  Sliding the food off the fork, I cover my mouth to talk. “You answer it. I’ll take the plates. I’m heading in for an early night. We have a full day of shooting tomorrow.”

  He raises the phone while I gather his plate. “Amy. How are you doing, honey?”

  The plates clink a little harder than expected as I stack them on top of each other. I leave him to his lover while I clean the dishes and leave them on the rack to dry. I’ve put away the leftovers and tidied the cards on the table, and he’s still on the phone. Checking the time on my phone with a yawn, I see the message icon.

  Kit - I need to talk to you.

  Hmm. Well, I don’t want to talk to you.

  Leaving the message unanswered, I poke my head out the front door and find an empty chair at the table. I watch the back of Harrison walking down the driveway. She’s a lucky woman. I hate her, but she’s a lucky woman.

  Clara’s not going to be happy that the homework wasn’t done, but I’m pleased with our night. We had a pleasant dinner, a few laughs, and not one insult was exchanged. I know he’s talking to his girlfriend, but my heart just doesn’t want to let it go.

  Twelve

  Harrison

  I completely forgot that Amy was going to ring me. Thankfully, Riley has gone back inside and can’t hear Amy asking me if I’ve made my moves yet. Leaning forward, I strain my neck to see where Riley is and if she can hear me.

  “I’ve been thinking more about your situation,” Amy says in her casual way like we’ve been talking about what’s our favourite ice cream.

  Jesus, this whole picture is wrong about her giving me relationship advice.

  Riley cleared my plate and went inside the second I picked up the call. My phone buzzed in my ear with another message from Kit asking me to call him, and I feel guilty for deleting it. I’ll get to him, just not now.

  “And I think you need to do something for her,” she says. “Show her that you’re genuine. Did she let you prepare dinner?”

  Come to think of it, she had it all prepared, all I had to do was carve the meat. Riley even poured the drinks.

  “No.”

  “I wouldn’t let you near my food either after all the years of horribleness. As a high-ranking member of her fan club, I can give you some tips on what she enjoys.”

  “I think I know the ladies, Amy,” I scoff. Jesus. All time low now taking dating advice from a teenager.

  “If you say you know the ladies, you do need my help. Jesus.”

  “Ten bucks in the swear jar for you, missy, and yes, I know the ladies.”

  “I’ll pay it tomorrow. You know ladies, but you don’t know Riley.” She pauses for a moment. “Okay. So what do you know about her that you can work with?”

  Glancing over my shoulder and straining as I lean forward to see where Riley is, I ask, “What do you mean?”

  “To woo her. If you just blurt out that you’ve been in love with her for all that time, she’s going to see straight through that and think you are teasing her again.”

  Well, there goes that idea.

  “Do something just for her,” she says. “Put yourself out there. What does she like? And her. Not you.”

  I don’t have to think long as she said in her questionnaire that horse riding was one of her passions. Talk about getting out of my comfort zone. I haven’t been on a horse since I was thrown off my friend’s when I was about seven.

  “Perfect. Do that,” Amy says when I tell her Riley loves horses. “Make it happen. Perfect. How are you with a horse?”

  “Much better on a dirt bike.”

  “Saddle up, you want to impress her. You have to do the things she likes, and promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” she says.

  I say my goodbyes to Amy and send Dominic, who has been surprisingly quiet this whole time, a message.

  Can you organise for two horses to be ready tomorrow afternoon?

  Almost immediately, I get a phone call from him. “I’m not sure if you meant horses or whores?”

  I tighten my hand around the handset. “I would never say whores and I want to go for a horse ride. There’s a beautiful beach—”

  “A horse ride? You don’t ride. In all the time I’ve known you, not once have you mentioned you want to go horse riding.”

  “Well, now I am. I want to go dirt bike riding. Organise two of them as well and all the gear.”

  Dominic’s laugh interrupts me. “A change of scenery has you wanting to live a little. This is good. How’s it going there with the woman who has a fur coat made of puppies just like Cruella?”

  “We’re actually getting along fine. We have a full day of shooting tomorrow, so I think the horse ride will be a nice break for us.”

  “Hang on. You want to go riding with Riley? Holy hell. Quick, get to the shops and stock up. Hell’s just frozen over.”

  “Can you make the arrangements or not? By the running sheet, we should be done by three. Dirt bikes for the next night.”

  He assures me that he will, and by the time I say goodnight, I hear Riley’s door closing quietly. It’s only seven-thirty, but it’s late in her book. For the first time since I was maybe eight, I went to bed early, too.

  I wake to another message on my phone from Kit, and it joins the ranks of the ignored as I get up to my surfing lesson alarm. I find both Riley and Tess talking and sharing a coffee on the veranda and pull on my wetsuit.

  “Morning. Good to see I didn’t scare you off yesterday. Going to ride you harder today,” Tess says, and even I balk at the innocent insinuation. I don’t miss the look in Riley’s eyes or the way her head snapped up from the innocent comment referring to the baby step program Tess put me on.

  “I’m ready to go again,” I say, and Riley slides past me with the coffee cups. The pissed-off vibes are radiating from her. “Can you give me just a minute, I’ll meet you down at the car.”

  Closing the door, I trail behind Riley who’s forearm deep in the sink washing her breakfast plates.

  “What’s with the stink eye?” I ask.

  “Nothing.” With the tone, it’s clearly not nothing.

  “Come on. You have something to say. You never have nothing to say.”

  “Not my business who you fool around with. Just never took you for a cheater,” she says. “An arsehole, absolutely, but not a cheater.”

  I can be called a lot of things, but a cheater, I am not. “I haven’t been on a date for months, just like you.”

  If the vibes coming from her were pissed off before, they’ve moved to shitted off as whatever she was holding in her hands falls back into the sink with a thud, causing suds to land on the bench.

  Knowing I’d taken it to a whole new level of insult, I quickly apologise. “That was out of line. We’ve always kept it above the belt and in the gutter.” Normally, Riley would fly into a rage and duel my words, now I’m honestly a bit frightened. Like, sleep-with-one-eye-open frightened. She’s still. Unnervingly still, and I send a quick prayer for the shouty Riley to come back. “Riley?”

  “Tess is waiting for you.”

  My list of shitful things done to Riley continues to rise as I take my instruction to leave. By the time I’ve come back from the beach, Riley’s door is closed and it remains closed when I come back out again. Eating my breakfast, I continue to stare at her door, sending hopeful thoughts that she will come back out. I’m about to go and knock when our car to take us to the set turns up. The sound of the horn manages to bring her out of her room. Fixing her jacket, she doesn’t even look at me. Doesn’t utter a sound as she walks through the door I wait to close behind her, and she heads straight for her car.

  “We are meant to go in the runner car,” I say, opening the door for her.

  “I’m driving myself,” she says before getting into her own car.

  I tell the driver that we will follow, quickly reach over, and slip into the passenger seat.

  “Get out,” she says with a huff and full of the spite I stupidly seem to
crave and love.

  “No. I said I was sorry.”

  “So be sorry in the other car. Get out.” She can’t even bring herself to look at me.

  “No.”

  “Get out!” She’s hot when she’s pissed off.

  “No.”

  “Get out!”

  “Want to go one more round? I was out of line. Give me one in return to make it even.”

  She turns in her seat and stares. “I’m not about to stoop to your level. And you want to talk about my dating history, let’s. Thanks to some troll—”

  Ahh shit, she knows it was me.

  “—on the net saying that I had that predictable venereal disease. Really? That person has no spirit to not think up something a bit more original than that.”

  “What would be better then? Hair loss?”

  Oh, that gets her to stop seething. She falls silent while giving me a side glance. Her silence screams volumes that it was her who started that rumour. I have no right to have the shits with her, I’ve played the exact same game.

  “I personally liked the one where I allegedly had both the male and female bits going on, really helped strengthen my icon status in the community.”

  I start to say something, but she drowns me out with the music on the radio. She moves the car forward, and we travel to the set without saying another word.

  My plan on getting to know her better could not be more of a clusterfuck. She doesn’t utter a single word to me, and I fear that if I do, I’ll be kicked out to the side of the road. Riley gets out of the car first, and as I curl my fingers around the handle, I hear a beep, and tugging on the handle does nothing. I snap my head to see Riley with her hand over her shoulder, keys dangling off her finger. She’s locked me in. Flicking the lock up with my other thumb, I pull on the handle and get out to follow her into the wardrobe room.

  “And that’s a wrap on that scene,” Allan says while clapping. “Today has been the best shooting day for you guys, ever. Couples therapy is really working for you two. Nailing the takes in one or two shots. Amazing.”

  We’ve managed to get all the car scenes done and we’ve moved on to the wedding shots. We both had to have lunch in hair and wardrobe to get ready and make the most of the time. It also helps that I’ve stopped being a dick and calling for repeats of scenes. Watching her come over the hill in that white dress, her long tanned legs and bare feet making a beeline right for me, had me blurring the lines of television production and reality. The weather had been on our side as the gentle wind pushed her hair off her face. When the actor said it was time to kiss the bride, Allan called out “Cut!” so they could reposition the cameras. I could tell she was still pissed off from the way I was holding her—she was trying to build space between us.

  I hope to hell this horse ride is going to work in my favour. I’m losing more chances than gaining them. During lunch, Dominic had sent me a message to say a man named Jack is going to bring two horses to the set. He also tagged on that he’s taken out indemnity insurance should anything happen to us.

  “Okay. We are ready. Places,” Allan calls. “It’s time to sell this sham. And, action!”

  “You may now kiss the bride,” the actor says again.

  Riley steps in front of me. Toe to toe. I crave this closeness. I snake my arms around her, and her bouquet rests on my shoulder as she brings her arms up and around my neck. Looking into Riley’s eyes, I see that glimmer is there and then gone just as quickly as she watches my lips. She rises to her toes, and I bring my mouth to hers.

  “Cut.”

  And Riley drops her feet flat to the ground, and our kiss breaks off.

  “That kiss could not have been more disinteresting,” Allan says. “Again.”

  We have kissed so many times, my lips are starting to chafe. I dipped Riley. Riley dipped me. Head tilt. Straight on. I must have ingested half a tube of lip gloss with each reapplication to Riley’s lips. Frustrations are running high from all corners.

  “Allan.” I turn—and I’ve never been one to question him. “I think you have the shot.”

  Surprised at my questioning, he tells the cameraman to take a minute. “I’ll tell you when you have the shot, and so far, I have a full blooper reel. It’s like I’ve asked cousins to kiss. For the calibre of actors you are, you are really both failing at this one.” His gestures are becoming more and more animated the more he speaks. “They just got married, for Pete’s sake, and you couldn’t look more bored. We want passion. We want every viewer to want to be kissed like that. We want this to go down as the best kisses in television history.”

  I glance over at Riley, and she’s staring right at me when I say, “All right, Allan. I’m ready. Are you?”

  Riley presses her now puffy lips together and answers, “Oh, I’m ready. Let me lead.”

  Oh, I’ll let you lead. “Bring it.”

  She stays in her position, and those words are said again, kiss the bride. I stare into her blue eyes, and it feels like a connection I’ve never felt with her. I move in to accept her with open arms, and we cling to each other where she stops just short of my mouth. She lingers there, and I’m expecting her to say something, but she closes her eyes when she brings her lips to mine. Her kiss starts out gentle, soft and inviting. Her hand snakes through my hair, and the kiss deepens. She’s never kissed me like this before. This is the kiss I’ve been craving and I’m feeling annoyed that she’s giving this kiss to Declan and not to me. Her tongue caresses mine, and mine touches back on instinct. We’ve never done tongue. Everything about this kiss is different. I’m just getting into the zone as I slide my hands down her back while she holds my head in place.

  “Perfect,” Allan calls out.

  Riley’s lips move slowly over mine when she pulls her head back.

  Damn it to hell, don’t stop kissing her.

  It takes a few seconds for her to move out of my hold. Standing in place, I don’t want the moment to end. I can’t stop staring at her and wondering where the hell that kiss has come from. The scene has been called, and we both take our time finishing it off. This kiss has my head filled with questions. This is the kind of kiss I give the person I’m dating. I’m about to ask her one of my questions when Allan bounds up and gives us both a hug.

  When I look at her again, he’s broken the spell between us. “Perfection. Couldn’t have asked for a better kiss.”

  I can hear him talking but I’m too busy wondering about the thoughts behind that kiss. Riley blinks. She uses her thumb to wipe her bottom lip. She blinks again, just like when Allan called out to say he’d got the shot. I want to snatch the bouquet she’s suddenly so interested in out of her hand and kiss her like that again.

  “That is a wrap for the day. Go and get changed and enjoy your afternoon.”

  Riley’s already halfway back to wardrobe when Allan slaps me on the back.

  “This is going to sound like the beginning of a bad joke, but a guy named Jack with two horses is here looking for you.”

  Riley is fixing her shoes by the time I walk into the room.

  “Hey,” I say and get no reply. “I organised a little something for us.”

  Dropping her laces, she asks, “Why would you do that?”

  Because I’m trying to make amends. Because I want to show you I’m not the douchelord you think I am. “Just for something different. We are in a beautiful spot, why not see it from another angle? Just let me get changed, and we can go.”

  I’m a pretty quick dresser anyway, but I move double time to get my jeans on and pull the T-shirt over my head as I leave the building to catch up with her when she told me she would meet me outside. Like honey to a bear, those horses, and I find Riley lavishing affection on them on the opposite side of the carpark.

  “You ruined the surprise,” I say on approach.

  “This is the surprise?” she asks with a smile.

  A smile. For me. Well, it might have been more for the horses, but I’ll take it.

  “Ja
ck?” I ask the man who’s built like a jockey but in his sixties. “Nice to meet you. Thank you for organising this.”

  “I was told to bring a horse and a donkey by some city slicker. I don’t have donkeys, but Barry here is as sure-footed and calm as a still pond. Really good for beginners. Snowy here. She’s the opposite. Wants to be first at everything.” Fitting. “Hope you have someone who knows what they are doing.”

  I look to Riley, and she gives me a nod as she rubs her hand up and down Snowy’s face. Riley’s horse is clearly itching to go, while I’m thinking of any excuse possible to get out of it. Amy won’t let me live this down, and if I’m going to show Riley that I’m out of my comfort zone by doing this, I don’t know what will.

  I size Barry up while Riley practically springs onto Snowy’s back. There’s no backing out of this.

  “Barry’s very easy to ride,” Jack says. “Tell him to go—” And like Pavlo’s Dog, Barry takes half a step forward. “Stop and he stops.” His hooves return to the ground. “Let’s get you up there.”

  Gripping the saddle, I’m athletic but I can barely get my toe to reach the stirrup. Trying again, I look up to see Riley doing her worst to hide her smile.

  “Here, get your foot in the stirrup,” she says and leans over to grab under my arm.

  By the third attempt, the crew has gathered, and every single one of them are calling out their suggestions while holding up their phones. Even Jack’s lengthened the stirrup, and I still can’t manage it. Barry, the patient beast, is even watching behind to see me embarrass myself.

  “There’s a bit of an incline over there,” Riley says, and I see a post used for the fence that runs from the carpark to the beach that I can use.

  With a bit of height, mounting is a lot easier. Also helps when you have a man half your size cupping your buttocks and the girl who holds your heart pulling on your arm to get you up there. Heights are normally not an issue, but having something that could become uncontrollable beneath me has me disconcerted. A cheer goes up from the crew when I settle into the saddle. Giving them a fist pump, Riley doesn’t bother to hide her laugh as she thanks Jack and heads over the dune.