With a stiff jaw, Tempest follows us in, and I fall back to include her since everyone else is meeting Nax’s quick pace as he acts the tour guide, explaining everything we pass.
She and I silently walk side-by-side until Tempest spins around, and walks out, leaving me staring after her, frown piercing my forehead as one of the male stars walks into the warehouse for his scene, and turns on his heel to watch her exit. His eyebrows lift, famous head craning to watch Tempest for as long as he can, drinking her in.
My chest goes tight. He’s clearly thinking of going after her. I take two steps, but pause as the film’s director shouts, “Where’s Stefan?”
“Here!” the asshole calls back, strolling into set. Our eyes lock and he cocks his head at my expression. I follow him until he passes Nax, and find my buddy is smirking at me. Probably thinks this Stefan guy is a douche, too. We always agree on these things, especially when it’s so obvious.
Crew shouts to each other, and soon the set goes quiet. When the director says, “Action,” my mind is elsewhere. I don’t hear or see a thing until gunshots ring out, pulling me back to the present. A stuntwoman falls four stories from a fake building into a net that will never be seen in the film. Atop the building, another actress screams, gripping the side and bursting into tears.
The director shouts, “Cut! Let’s go again.”
Will runs over and grabs my arm. “Dad! Dad! I want to be a stuntman!”
“Can’t blame you there. It was pretty cool.”
He looks around. “Where’s Tempest?”
Our group turns to me, like I’m the reason, “She left.”
Evan shakes his head. “Hey, this was fun, Nax, thanks. Zia, I’ll see you later.”
She nods once, “Bye Evan,” grim black eyes following him before locking onto me for a frustrated second. Facing the set, Zia crosses her arms and doesn’t look my way again until Nax tells us he has to close the set. Zia kisses him, “I love you,” and looks at me like she wishes we didn’t have to share a car home.
While we wait for the car to arrive, Will and Joe discuss which stunts will be more difficult when Will becomes a stuntman. With that exhausted, they lose steam, sugar and excitement crash hitting them hard.
Our driver’s playlist fills the void between Zia and I.
She’s pissed at me.
I didn’t do anything.
Why defend myself?
I glance to Nax’s son as he lets out a snore loud enough for a grown man. Glancing across the boys to Zia I smirk. “Wow,” to lighten the air.
She gives me nothing. Just keeps staring out her window.
Will pokes Joe’s mouth until he swats him away, “Quit it!” sleepily looking around as the car slows at 80 Varick Street.
Zia opens her door to traffic, “Bye guys. Have fun at Josh’s.”
I find myself stepping out of the car, too, telling our driver, “Hang tight. I’ll be right back,” and squeezing around parked cars to call out, “Zia!”
She pauses on the fourth stair. “What, Josh?”
“You’re pissed at me.”
Not wanting the boys to see her face, she descends, puts her back to the waiting Honda, and addresses me with a voice hushed but furious. “I’m really tired of how you treat my cousin, Josh.”
“How do I treat her?”
“Oh please! You’re such a jerk around her. I don’t get it. Whenever she’s not around, you’re great. I’m a fan. But if Tempest ever joins us, you’re just the biggest dick! You really are! Did you know that she has turned down every invitation for the past two months because you might be there? She’s missing out on things because of you! I’m sick of it. I love her. She’s a fantastic human being if you ever took a second to look. Fine! You’re not into her. You’ve made that extremely clear. But news flash! Nobody asked you to be! How about just being friends? Or, I don’t know, polite?! I was hoping that today, because it was such a cool thing, we could have fun as a group. But you hardly said a word. You don’t act like the you I know whenever she’s not around. You’re tense, terse, and downright dark.”
“Wow,” I whisper.
Zia takes a step closer, black eyes narrowing. “You made her lose her appetite. She couldn’t even eat the damn ice cream! And it’s ice cream! What is your problem?”
“Bye Zia.” I walk to the street, tap the car, “Hey guys, let’s walk,” and tell our driver, “Close out the ride, thanks.”
He nods, “You got it,” waiting for the back door to close behind Joe and Will, and for traffic to clear for merging.
The boys wave to Zia, and I cut her a look, but say nothing more. It’s a few blocks to home, with their energy returned by the cool air. My thoughts, as usual, are elsewhere. It’s not that Zia is one of my best friend’s girlfriends that makes me care about what she said. I didn’t like his ex, Liz, but I put up with her. Well, actually didn’t have to, since they moved to California. I like Zia Tuck. She’s not the problem.
It’s that now I know why Tempest was looking at me like that all afternoon. Was it real hatred, or just defensive-hatred? There’s a big difference.
As the three of us turn onto our block I’m slammed into the present moment by a sight I never expected to see today — a greying redheaded man with a weathered face in a pea coat and suit, freckles dark, mouth grim, standing in front of my apartment building waiting for me.
Bennett’s father.
Or the guy we think must be him.
Will and Joe keep moving with the same energy they’ve had as my steps slow, eyes locked with the ghost of my
