Finding June (16 page)

“I still wouldn’t wear it, but it’s better
than a corset or those impossibly short shorts,” I admitted,
feeling much better after my little talk with Marc. My last costume
was Imogen’s everyday clothes, though they weren’t exactly
"everyday," since she was supposed to be so involved with
vaudeville. I wore white socks that ended just above my knees, a
pair of high-waisted black shorts, and a white, cotton, cap-sleeve
button-up shirt tucked into the shorts. It looked very hipster
while still managing to be old-fashioned. Actually, if anything, I
thought it looked like some sort of Japanese street fashion.

“Wish me luck,” I said to Candice as I left
the makeup trailer for the last time that day. Benjamin and Ryan
were surprisingly nowhere to be seen, and I assumed they must have
actually had a scene to act in.

“No,” was Candice’s reply as she popped the
tab on a can of soda and pulled out a magazine. Her abrasiveness
was definitely something I’d have to get used to. It did help that
I knew how she’d act if she actually didn’t like me, though—she
would just treat me like she did The Tall Ones. But that was the
least of my worries at the moment. The thing that had been
occupying the back of my mind the entire day (well, the entire
week, if I’m being honest) was my next scene.

The anticipation that I felt for this last
scene for today’s shoot made me feel tingly and even a little
giddy. I hardly noticed anything around me as I walked to the set
and made my way back to Imogen’s apartment with Lukas. We were the
only two people in this scene, and I was almost a little sad that
they saved it for the last shot of the day, since I was tired and
might not be able to enjoy my first (but hopefully not last) kiss
with Lukas Leighton properly.

In all honesty, I hardly paid any attention
to the lines leading up to our kiss during the first take, and I
probably stumbled over all of mine, but nobody called "cut," so it
must not have been too bad. The only thing I cared about at that
moment was getting to kiss the oh-so-coveted Lukas Leighton.

And here it was.

He was standing right in front of me, saying
some line from the script that I had completely forgotten and
looking exactly the way every boy in the world should look. I was
vaguely aware that Lukas had given me my cue by saying, “Maybe this
will answer your question,” though I wasn’t even sure if that’s
what he said. Instead, I did my best to look sultry and kept my
eyes locked on him.

Lukas’s hand cupped my face, his thumb
running across my cheekbone, and he closed his eyes and leaned in
to kiss me. I must admit that it took all of my strength not to
collapse into a heap right at that moment. That particular response
wouldn’t have benefited me at all, since it would mean that I
didn’t get to kiss Lukas. Instead, I braced myself for what I was
sure would be the best moment of my life. Lukas’s free hand had
gone to the small of my back, but was now lurking dangerously close
to him getting slapped. Not that I would have considered slapping
him . . . especially with the cameras and entire crew watching.

I followed his lead and closed my eyes until
I felt the pressure of his lips against mine. It was definitely a
very different kiss from the one I had shared with Joseph on stage.
This kiss was more skillful and experienced, like kissing was an
art that Lukas Leighton was very practiced in. Something about the
way he kissed me was heavy and important, like a statement that
goes over children’s heads but adults nod somberly in response to,
as if they could understand the weight of a single uttered phrase
from their years of experience. This kiss definitely held
significance that I couldn’t understand with my years of stage
kisses and lack of real kisses.

When Lukas pulled away and looked into my
eyes, he wasn’t red in the face or embarrassed like Joseph had
been. Instead, he was sure of himself, and some dark joy played in
his crystal blue eyes. All I could do was stare at him helplessly
and feel like I had just had my legs taken out from under me. I
completely forgot to act at all as I stared at him with unabashed
adoration.

Apparently my candid reaction was exactly
what Bates had wanted, because the second he yelled "Cut!" he
poured praise over Lukas and me. I tried not to smile too much at
how perfectly the director felt the scene had played out, but I did
make a mental note at what good natural chemistry Lukas and I had.
It made me wonder if maybe we could be together. I could imagine
the headlines in the magazines without trying too hard. They'd call
us LuJu, or Jukas, or—okay, the nickname needed work, but we could
be Hollywood’s perfect couple—the kind that people were jealous of
because of how blissfully happy they were.

It’s not really getting ahead of yourself if
your fantasies are true, right?

CHAPTER 13

When Joseph and I got to school on Tuesday
morning, I had already told him everything that had happened on set
about a million times. He was amusingly excited to hear about Ryan
and Benjamin and how nice and quirky they were, but he didn’t
really do much to hide his dislike of Lukas when I told him about
our scenes. I ignored his less-than-enthusiastic response to my
favorite part of the story and decided to just focus on the rest of
my experience, knowing I could at least count on Xani to be excited
about Lukas.

“Were your costumes really that bad, or were
you just overreacting?” Joseph asked as we walked through the
quiet, dark school to zero period theatre. “Because I could see how
the fact that you’re brought up to be modest might make a ‘normal’
outfit seem uncomfortably immodest.”

“Well, my pajama shorts went up to here,” I
said, indicating a place on my leg I didn’t even realize it was
possible for shorts to end. “And my dress pushed me up so much that
I practically had cleavage up to my neck,” I said the second part a
bit too loudly.

“Whoa, June. There are some things I really
don’t need to know,” he said, bringing his hands up as if to wash
them clean of my misfortune, smirking all the while.

“Yeah, you can go ahead and joke about it
now, but when you see just how terrible the costumes really were,
you’ll be on my side.”

“Well, maybe by the time you go back for your
scenes on Thursday they’ll realize the error of their ways,” Joseph
suggested doubtfully.

“Actually, you’ll be very proud to know that
I spoke with the costume designer and he agreed to make me more
modest costumes from now on,” I informed him, beaming at my own
personal triumph.

“Wait a minute, let me get this straight,"
Joseph said. "You—June Laurie—stood up for yourself?”

“Amazing, isn’t it?” I asked. “He even
changed my awful pajamas so they weren’t all that bad.”

“I’m impressed,” Joseph said sincerely,
giving me a quick squeeze as we walked.

The immodest costumes wouldn’t have been such
a big deal to me normally. I mean, I am an actor and I’ve worn tank
tops or short-ish shorts in a lot of the school plays, and they
never really bothered me. I think the reason this situation felt
different was because they were obviously trying to make my
character sexy, rather than someone who just happened to wear those
kinds of clothes. I definitely didn’t feel comfortable being
portrayed as "sexy" June. On my most sexy day I was prettily
awkward at best.

The second we sat down in the auditorium to
wait for Mr. Carroll to start teaching, Xani was flanking me,
asking endless questions about Lukas Leighton.

“June doesn’t really enjoy talking about
Lukas Leighton, so you may be hard-pressed to get any information
out of her,” Joseph said sarcastically. Xani and I responded by
rolling our eyes in unison.

“Did you kiss him? Was it perfection? Oh, I
bet he’s just the most amazing kisser,” Xani gushed in her thick
southern drawl. Joseph looked like he might be sick, as per usual,
when Lukas was involved.

“My kissing scene with him was at the end of
the day, so I was really tired,” I said regretfully. “But even
then, it was the most perfect thing ever. He’s just so good at
it!”

“You’re so lucky, June,” Xani said jealously.
For the first time since I’d known her, Xani looked at me with
admiration rather than the normal dislike. It was a shocking—but
nice—change.

“If there’s any chance I can introduce you to
him, I will,” I promised suddenly, not quite sure of where that
offer had come from.

“I think I would die. Really. I would just
say ‘Hi’ and it would all be over,” she said happily.

“It looks like Mr. Carroll is about to start
class. We should probably stop talking,” Joseph said stiffly,
keeping his eyes locked on the stage where Mr. Carroll had just
entered.

“Even your Lukas Leighton aversion can’t
annoy me today, Joseph. But nice try,” I said happily, leaning over
and kissing him on the cheek. Talking to Xani had made me
infinitely more excited about the whole experience yesterday. It
was nice to have someone who was actually excited for me and
understood the monumental importance of kissing Lukas Leighton.

Joseph didn’t reply to my sudden outburst of
giddiness; he just swallowed hard and tried not to let his eyes
look like big, round, dinner plates.

After school—and about two hundred retellings
of my day of filming—Joseph dropped me off at my house with the
promise that he’d be by in a few hours to watch a movie. Gran, who
was less than enthusiastic about my love for Lukas Leighton, was
waiting in the kitchen with an open bottle of beer. I stopped
suddenly in the doorway, looking at the contraband sitting on our
kitchen counter.

“Gran, have you been drinking?” I asked,
shock filling my voice.

“Yes, June, you’ve driven me to drink,” she
said sarcastically. “No Bliss, this is for you.”

I simply stood and stared at her for a long
while, wondering why the obvious hadn’t set into her mind yet.

“Uh, Gran . . . you know I don’t drink,
right? Never have. Never will. Because if this is some sort of test
to see if I have been, I can assure you—”

“I know you haven’t been drinking,” she
replied, waving away my words with her hand. “It’s not for
you
. It’s for your hair.” She stated this as though it were
the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t think I follow,” I answered, still
confused by what she was saying.

“We’re going to mix beer, egg whites, and
mayonnaise and put it in your hair. It’ll make it shiny.”

I brought my palm up to my forehead and
closed my eyes patiently, trying not to look too piqued. “Gran, how
many of these crazy food things actually work? Because I’m starting
to feel like a human buffet with all of these bizarre
remedies.”

“Well, you got a part on
Forensic
Faculty
, didn’t you? That has to count for something,” she
said.

“True,” I answered slowly. I looked over at
the open bottle, which was already filling the kitchen with a
sickly smell. I honestly didn’t understand how anyone could drink
something that smelled like that, but if I had to suffer for my art
and put the reeking liquid in my hair, I guessed it was the price
of fame. “Do you have any nose plugs?” I asked finally.

*****

Joseph came over at eight o’clock with two
orange sodas and a movie in tow. I placed a bowl of freshly popped
microwave popcorn on the coffee table in the living room and
plopped down on the couch, gratefully accepting the icy soda he
handed me.

“So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?” I
asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the small stack of movies he
had with him.

“I brought a few options. I have a Lillian
Gish movie, in case you wanted to tap into your favorite silent
film star for inspiration. Or I brought a few newer movies.
Whatever you’re in the mood for is fine with me. I like all of
them,” he said with a shrug.

“I choose Lillian, of course,” I replied.

“Lillian it is.”

Joseph popped the movie into the DVD player
and took his place beside me on the couch. I scooted close to him
so that I could rest against his side like I always did, and he
looked over at me quizzically, sniffing as he did so.

“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“June . . . why do you smell like alcohol?”
he asked, a look of puzzled surprise on his face.

“Oh. Right. Gran made me put it in my hair .
. . apparently it’ll make it shinier. Of course, that also means
I’ll be smelling like alcohol for the rest of my life.”

Joseph turned back to the TV to process this
information for a moment. “Does any of that stuff actually work?”
he asked finally, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I don’t think so. But it definitely makes
Gran happy, so I’m fine with it,” I responded with a laugh.

We were silent for a moment, watching the
black-and-white film with its dramatic music and vaudeville-style
acting. I happily snuggled closer to Joseph and rested my head on
his shoulder as we watched.

“So I think I’ll buy Homecoming tickets on
Thursday while you’re filming. I just figured we should buy them
now so that we don’t have to worry about it later,” Joseph
said.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. I’ll pay
you back soon, I promise,” I told him with a smile. Even though
neither of us really liked to dance, I figured it would still be
fun to get dressed up and go somewhere together.

“Don’t bother. I’ve been working for my dad
doing some filing for his business, so I’ve got a bit of money
saved up.”

“But you shouldn’t have to use the money
you’ve saved on me. Besides, I’ve got a job now too, remember?” I
said matter-of-factly.

“Good point. But I still want to do this
properly, where I buy your ticket and pick you up and everything,”
he answered seriously, making it sound much more like a date than
it was supposed to be.