From Twinkle, with Love
Page 51

But I didn’t say any of the above.
“Well …,” Sahil said, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “I should, um … go get the props from the SUV. Skid and Aaron are waiting for me in the parking lot.”
“Okay.” I watched him walk away. I waited for him to look at me at some point before he disappeared. But he never did.
Our movie was scheduled to play last. I sat backstage through all the acts before ours—including the pineapple chopping by CC and his friends which, miraculously, didn’t end with anyone having to go to urgent care—with a pounding heart and a completely dry mouth.
When it was time for the festival to begin and I’d given the tech person the thumb drive with our movie and the bonus footage on it, I walked back out to the audience. All the Dracula actors and stagehands were sitting together, toward the front. Someone had saved me a seat in the middle, with a sign on the back that said DRACULA DIRECTOR—RESERVED. I grinned as I sat, with Sahil on one side of me and Maddie on the other. They both sat stiffly, making sure not to get in my personal space at all, but I was too distracted to be distraught.
I’d already seen the movie, naturally, so while it played, I kept my eye on the audience. I think it’s an epic compliment that the entire auditorium of about one thousand people was completely silent while the movie played. The actors and actresses beside me were all wide-eyed. I realized that for most of them, this was the first time they were experiencing the absolute magic of seeing themselves transformed by a story. Maddie kept beaming at various scenes, her eyes shining in the darkness, like she was so utterly proud. I was incredibly happy for her in those moments, I can’t even tell you.
And then … then the behind-the-scenes footage began to play. As the last scene faded and the segue music played, my heart started to thunder. Skid and I looked at each other, and he gave me a tiny thumbs-up. I felt Maddie stiffen beside me. The other actors and actresses all shifted around and looked uncomfortable, probably remembering all the awful things they’d said and wondering how I’d portray them and their secrets on-screen.
The first candid scene began.
It was a shot of Sherie Williams at the Aspen cabin, talking about how she’d been failing a bunch of classes. The cheer coach had told her she couldn’t be on the team anymore unless she brought her GPA up, so all the other cheerleaders had taken turns tutoring her after school every day in the classes they were best at. Sherie had managed to bring her GPA up to a 3.0 and stayed on the team.
The scene faded into a shot of Francesca Roberts talking about how her friends, all of whom she’d known since kindergarten, had “kidnapped” her from school on her sixteenth birthday and taken her to Six Flags, her favorite place in the world.
Vic, Lewis, and Taylor were next. I watched people leaning forward, to take in each story, their faces shining, laughing with the people on-screen. I watched people looking at one another, their eyes busy with memories, connecting because of my movie. I saw parents put their arms around their children, best friends hug.
And it hit me fully: I wanted to make movies that would bring people together, not ones that would tear them apart. And if that meant I had to be penniless and unsung all my life, then that was okay with me. Some things were more important than fame and money.
As the footage wound to a close, Sahil took my hand. Just for a second. I was so shocked, I didn’t even close my fingers around his before the audience broke out into thunderous applause, many of them even giving us a standing ovation, and by then Sahil had already pulled away. I stood too, and clapped for everyone around me, all the actors, actresses, the stagehands, the technicians, my producer. Sahil, Maddie, and I were grinning and cheering and happy. Just for that second.
Afterward, I hugged Skid, who was standing there with Portia, who was absolutely as stunning as he’d said she was. “Thank you,” I said to him, squeezing his arm. “You did a fantastic job with the footage. I know I didn’t give you much time.”
“Ah, you made it easy,” he said, waving a hand. “Your shots were all clean.”
I looked at Portia and shook my head. “He’s being overly humble right now. He’s basically a genius.”
“Oh, I know.” She smiled down at Skid (she had about six inches of height on him) in this adoring way. I knew then he was definitely going to have a serious girlfriend by the end of the summer. They waved to me and strolled off together. I sniffed. Wow. Skid hadn’t skimped on deodorant tonight.
Sahil came up to me. “Hey,” he said. “That was”—his eyes searched mine—“incredible.”
I smiled. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
There was a pause that stretched on as we stared at each other. “So,” I began.
“I have to go,” he said, scratching his jaw. “I came over to tell you there are a cluster of reporters and radio hosts from various places over there.” He waved to the back of the auditorium, where a group of people stood. “They want to talk to you.”
I stared at him, my mouth open. “Are you serious? The media people want to talk to me?”
He nodded, a small half smile playing at his lips. “You’re a star.” He leaned down and gave me a hug, and my eyes slipped shut as I felt his hard planes against my soft curves. “Good-bye, Twinkle,” he whispered, and then he walked away. My heart broke at the finality of his tone. He wasn’t just saying good-bye for tonight. He was saying good-bye forever.
Somehow, despite feeling like the moon had just crashed into the ocean and been swallowed, I managed to give the reporters what they wanted. They were all smiling and nodding; that’s how I know. When they left, Dadi came up to me. She hugged me and told me she was proud of me and that she loved my movie, like, a zillion times. And when she moved aside, I saw Mummy behind her, staring at me like she couldn’t believe it: Dracula, this creation, had come out of her creation.
I sat back after a while and just watched people. Neil, with some blond girl who didn’t go to our school, their arms around each other’s waists. I felt absolutely nothing. Matthew and Aaron, holding hands and walking out into the night. Lewis Shore and his dad talking to Maddie. Then she walked up to Brij and they began to talk, their heads close together. Victoria flirting with some big muscular dude wearing a Yankees jersey, who looked to be Francesca’s cousin.
I was happy for everyone. But all the celebrating felt like a distant world I couldn’t fully be a part of because of the gaping hole where my heart used to be. Dadi was right. It had gone from broken to pulverized.
Slowly, the auditorium began to empty out. And now I’m just sitting here, among all the empty chairs. I have no best friend and the guy I love doesn’t love me back anymore. The minute I leave, real life will begin again. All the magic will be over. So maybe I’ll just sit here writing in this journal until someone forces me out.
Which might be now, actually. I hear footsteps walking up behind me. Probably that spiteful-looking security guard with the patchy goatee I saw before. Sigh.
Love,
Twinkle
Saturday, June 27
Maddie’s car

Dear Sofia Coppola, It wasn’t the security guard. It was Maddie. And Hannah.
Maddie came and sat by me, sweeping her fuchsia maxi dress under her. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out two Twizzlers and handed me one. “Here.”
“Oh. Thanks.” I took it and looked from her to Hannah, who was fabulous as usual in a bright yellow dress and a turquoise bib necklace. I sat silently, waiting for someone to explain what was going on. Hannah’s cheeks were faintly pink, and she kept looking at me and then away, fiddling with the strap of her purse.
Finally, Maddie cleared her throat and looked at Hannah, who walked forward and perched on the armrest of one of the theater chairs near mine. “Twinkle,” she said, “I’m so sorry.”
I dropped my Twizzler. “Um. What?” Maddie pressed another one into my hand, but I barely felt it.
“I’ve treated you pretty badly,” Hannah said, her clear blue eyes focused on mine. “And I’m sorry for that. I want you to know that it wasn’t about you at all.” She took a breath. “Maddie and I have had a chance to talk, and … I realized I was just, um, jealous. And scared. I didn’t want to lose Maddie to you, and it brought out this bad side of me.” She looked down at her hands in her lap, at the many rings on her fingers. “I know you’re really Maddie’s best friend. I never had a chance at all, and that bothered me. A lot. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, though. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”