Scheduled for Friday
by Anton M.

8: Donkey Balls


Monday, January 16

Tilting my head towards him, I arched an eyebrow.

"The NDA," he said. "Right. Is he, like, eighty?"

I suppressed my smile.

"Is he a frog?" He paused, his eyes widening. "Oh my God. It's a girl, isn't it?"

I laughed.

"You know I can't tell you."

"Leonardo DiCaprio? Lupita Nyong'o? Emma Watson? Denzel Washington? Benedict Cucumber?"

I couldn't help my laugh. He was being ridiculous, even if one of his guesses had guest-starred in the first season.

"You're just listing stars, now."

"Well, have you met any of them?"

"How could I tell you even if I had?"

"Is it someone younger? Tom Holland? Timothée Chala-la-la or what's-his-face? Noah Schnapp? He's shooting in Atlanta, I think."

"How do you know that?"

"I watch TV," he replied, simply.

"Didn't he sign up for Stranger Things until the next year? I'd be amazed if he had time for a full side-project."

"That's not a denial," Edward answered. "Or, is it an even bigger name, like that guy who played young Iron Man before switching to DC and the entire world lost their minds? What's-his-name—"

Mike Newton.

"Why would I want my first kiss to be someone else if I could have it with this year's sexiest man alive?"

Because he's ancient. Because I'll never live it down if I have to rehearse our onscreen kiss because I've never kissed anyone. Because, if all went according to plan, I'd have five to seven years of his smug smiles ahead of me if he thinks I wanted him to be my first kiss.

"Fair point," he replied, searching my eyes.

"You know this is like my least favorite game ever," I told him. "Even if you got it right, I couldn't tell you, and… why do you care, anyway?"

He paused as he brushed his thumb over his gauze, taken aback by my question.

"I don't," he replied, hesitating. "I guess I've never met an actress before… and certainly not a girl who doesn't give a second thought as to who her first kiss would be. Hell, I'm sure most guys would want their first kiss to be with someone special." He raised his eyes to meet mine, squinting, trying to figure me out. "But not you."

"Not me," I confirmed.

Hopping off the window sill, I smiled at him, prepared to go to lunch, but Edward gripped my wrist and tapped the now infamous ten-dollar bill on the back of my hand. His palm felt warm and coarse against my skin.

"I'd feel better if you took it for the hassle you had to go through with your jeans."

"Tell you what," I replied, overwhelmed by his touch but more determined than ever to prove to him that he wasn't special. "You find me a guy to kiss within the next three days and you keep it."

His laugh was a sharp exhale. "How would one even do that?"

"I don't know," I replied. "Ask your single friends if they find me attractive and if they'd like to practice kissing with no strings attached. They can even cop a feel if they're up for it."

Edward choke-coughed in disbelief.

"You are—"

"Amazing and irresistible?" I finished with my best smile, feeling anything but. "I know."

He grinned and shook his head. "Can't say I've ever met a girl like you."

I bathed in his disbelieving, searching gaze, but I was careful not to allow the extent of my crush to show up on my face.

"I don't have many guy friends, so… I know you think I'm joking but I'd actually really appreciate your help."

He nodded, once, his eyes showing how much he meant it, but instead of letting go of my wrist, he turned me towards him and leaned closer.

"One more thing," he said quietly. "Thanks for not telling people about, you know, where I live. It's not that I'm ashamed, it's just…"

"It makes people act weird," I finished, desperately ignoring his warm breath on my forehead before finally, finally, he let go of my wrist and pulled away.

"Yeah," he agreed. We gathered our backpacks and began to walk to the cafeteria when he asked, "When did you live at Sunrise Forest?"

"I think up until… three years ago? But I lived at Trailwood all my childhood, which is basically merged with Sunrise Forest now. Where do you live?"

"If you know the light blue double-wide just in the border of the two with a boulder—"

"Ah, that's why you insist on giving me your ten bucks. You're in the rich bitch trailer."

Edward laughed. Lauren scooted to make room for him but he either didn't notice or took pity on me now that lunch was almost over, and we sat slightly away from our friends.

Edward bit into his sandwich while I took the lid off my Greek salad (my mom was adamant that I at least eat healthy when I went to school because the food on set was anything but), and I was trying to act casual while feeling all giddy-twisted inside to be eating lunch with him.

"The rich bitch trailer?" he repeated, eyes alight with amusement.

I could feel Lauren's eyes on us, especially since we had to lean closer to make sure nobody could hear our trailer park talk. I couldn't help but feel special hearing this part of Edward's life, even if his comfort in sharing it was only because he wasn't attracted to me.

"When I was a kid, I thought double-wides were the richest you could get. I called them double-white, actually. Never saw them in any other color until I was seven. But only big-shots lived in double-wides, and most of the ones I met were mean to me, so…"

"Rich bitches." Edward grinned. "I get it."

"Not all, though," I continued. "In that very same double-wide you seem to live in, an elderly lady called Esme used to live there. Wispy white hair, always inviting us over for sweet tea—I think my dad fixed her staircase a few times. I'm pretty sure my parents still write Christmas cards to her. We didn't receive one back from her last year but I guess it's because she sold the trailer to you guys?"

Edward kept his eyes on his sandwich as he chewed. Quietly, he said, "She was my grandmother."

"Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't know." I remembered when he mentioned his late gran-gran at the D&D evening, and my stomach twisted. "What happened?"

"Do you remember the crane accident where I-85 meets Piedmont and Baker? The overpass?"

"Seven casualties," I whispered, unable to look away from his hands. Locking eyes with him felt too intimate, and his tense shoulders didn't exactly hide his feelings on the matter even if he kept eating his sandwich.

In May, we had a particularly frantic day on set because my dad was working in a building close to where the crane collapsed and mom saw the news online before we knew if dad was okay or not.

"Esme was there?"

"With my mom." His jaw clenched, but he snapped his fingers. "And just like that, we went from living in a shoddy single-wide to a rich bitch double-wide," he continued, his voice void of emotion. "Though I'd much rather have them, you know?"

Fuck.

With that timing, he was probably writing the last of his SATs at the time.

I'd grabbed his forearm without thought and let go of it. Edward, too, not having realized I'd squeezed his arm, blinked at me. Too self-aware in a cafeteria full of students, he didn't have tears in his eyes, but his tight-lipped smile and his guarded eyes didn't conceal much.

"Sorry," I whispered. "I really—I'm sorry for prying, and, I never know what to say in these situations except nobody deserves that. Sometimes life sucks donkey balls."

The sound he made was more of a huff than a laugh.

"That it does."

We made casual small talk which blew my mind because I didn't know I was capable of it around a boy (I liked). I was relieved that I hadn't offended him and that my rebuff of his fear (that I liked him) was convincing enough that we could have a casual conversation, and yet, somehow, the ease with which I could share stuff with him didn't feel casual.

"It's my mom's, you know," Edward said with no prompting as he threw his sandwich wrapper in the trashcan. "My motorcycle. A year ago, I thought I would've killed to have her bike. Turns out I would've been all too happy to wait a few years until I could afford my own."

Not knowing how to console him, I gave him a tight smile, and my stomach flipped when he returned it. As our friends joined us to leave the cafeteria and Jasper made a joke, Edward laughed, but his eyes didn't leave mine, and I felt like we shared a secret. His eyes said, 'I'd rather not return to this conversation around my friends,' while mine said, 'Don't you go around telling everyone about my NDA,' and he gave me the smallest, imperceptible nod before his friend group broke from mine. It squeezed my insides.

Lauren was all fluttery eyelashes and finger-combing her hair next to Edward as they walked upstairs. Not wanting to see his response to her, I looked away.

Where did girls learn to flirt like that? (And where was I when they did?) But her flirting made me realize that she must've been jealous of me, and that thought, as alien as it was, lifted me up.

There might be hope for me yet. Maybe not with Edward, but… someone.

I found Alice after our next class (that we didn't share), also a lunch break but not for us, and pulled her into one of the single bathrooms on the second floor, locked it behind her, and narrowed my eyes at her. At 4'11'', she was five inches shorter than me, but today, she wore heels and mom jeans, rolled up to look cropped, and I did not feel our height difference.

After twelve years of helping her handle new crowds (she was shier than me), twelve years of sharing secrets (and there were a few), and twelve years of being my best friend, she decided to become Alice the Blabbermouth.

No, my crush did not start out real, but she couldn't have known that, and I was furious.

"What?" Alice asked.

"You are so lucky I'm a world-class bullshitter."

She crossed her arms. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you know a guy for two days and you tell him that I like his best friend?!"

Alice cleared her throat. "Why do you think I did that?"

"Because Edward fucking cornered me about it! And do not dare tell me it's written on my face because that's just insulting my career."

"He couldn't have." Alice paled. "My dad always says guys never talk about—"

"Your dad is fifty eight, Alice! He's the age where men would rather swallow their feelings and get a heart attack than admit they cried once when they were five! Edward and Jasper are clearly tight, and they are not fifty eight, and I can't tell you how mad I am at you. Why, why, why would you do that to me?"

Alice stared at me.

"He really cornered you?"

"Yes!"

"Why would anyone do that?"

"I don't know! Maybe because he didn't want to give me a false impression? Maybe because rather than starting to awkwardly ignore me like an asshole he wanted to know if what he heard was right? Maybe because it's his worst nightmare that Lauren is stringing him along? Thanks for the joy of my crush looking me in the eye and telling me he's not into me, by the way. Really made my week."

"Hey…"

"Just tell me why you did it."

"I thought that, maybe… maybe we're wrong, and… misunderstood. I didn't think Jasper would tell Edward, though."

I took a long, deep breath, and let it out slowly, trying to figure out if I had the energy to fight her. It was ridiculous to suggest that Edward's crush on Lauren could've been misunderstood—his crush, unlike mine, was all over his face. And the two best friends were clearly close—Jasper was the only person in their friend group (except me) who knew that Edward lived in a trailer park.

Really, was Alice paying any attention?

"I hope you know you've just excluded yourself from hearing anything about anyone I might ever have a crush on."

And thank fucking God I'd never slipped a word about Mike Newton or Underground Memories around her in spite of all my close calls. Jesus.

"That's not fair."

"I disagree. You're my best friend, but I am so pissed at you. There are so many secrets in my life I wouldn't have cared you revealed. Tell everyone that the Garrett Kamwanga is my biological father? Fine. Whatever. Let them talk about it for a day or two. Tell everyone I wet my bed until I was eight? They'll laugh at me for a week but everyone has shit like that and they'll get over it. Whatever. But this one thing, this one incredibly personal thing, a guy you know is my first crush, and you tell his best friend? Seriously?"

Alice's lower lip wobbled, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Don't you dare cry. You make me look my first crush in the eyes and lie and tell him he's wrong and I don't feel a thing? You know how I feel about having to act outside of work. You do not get to be the victim, here."

"Bella…"

I unlocked the door behind her. "I'm sorry you're sad that your judgement is shit but I need time."