From Twinkle, with Love
Page 38
Oh, we’re here. I better go.
Love,
Twinkle
Saturday, June 20, post-party
Sahil’s car again (he’s getting gas)
Dear Ava DuVernay, In the history of horrible, obnoxious, hideous, loathsome nights, this one would get its own full-color page, complete with attention grabbing headlines smattered with !!!! and unflattering pictures of me stealing away into the darkness, my collar up and my head down.
It started out okay. Sahil and I got to the cabin (it was obvious which one was Victoria’s parents’ because of the thumping bass and ten shrieking teens trying to climb into the fountain in the front yard). It was one of those enormous mountain chalet getaway thingies, with huge windows and logs and stuff. As soon as we entered, Sahil left to talk to Victoria about setting up a quiet space for the behind-the-scenes interviews. I walked up to Hannah, who was surrounded by the usual gaggle of juniors and seniors, including Maddie. Apparently she’d decided her dad’s show was worth missing for this party. Slowly, the chatter died down as they registered the presence of an intruder in their midst.
“Can I help you?” Hannah asked. She looked gorgeous, with this ombré lip gloss and a deep burgundy strapless dress that set off her blond hair. Her friends all stared at me, and Maddie shifted from foot to foot, looking like she was in pain. Which might have been because she was wearing six-inch wedge sandals or because she was uncomfortable with the situation.
“I just wanted to say happy birthday,” I said, handing Hannah the small silver-wrapped box. Sahil and I had chipped in for a gift card to Nordstrom together.
She took it with a small smile/grimace on her face. “Thanks.”
“That’s cool of you,” Maddie said after a pause. “To bring a present, I mean.”
I stared at her in shock for a moment before recovering. Maddie was being nice to me in front of Hannah? Was it one of the signs of the apocalypse or something? “Um, yeah. No worries.”
A glance passed between Maddie and Hannah, and then, sighing, Hannah said to me, “Help yourself to drinks or whatever.”
“Thanks. I’m mostly here to do the behind-the-scenes interviews, but that’s nice of you.”
Apparently done with me, Hannah returned to her friends, and they closed ranks, their backs facing me like a wall. Maddie tossed me a small, apologetic shrug, but that was it. She didn’t say anything else. I felt my new friend, anger, begin to bubble inside me. Why was Hannah so intent on excluding me when I’d never done anything to her?
I didn’t break my stride as I tried to find Sahil, but the thought slammed into me, hard: That was the last chance. I’d been willing to just come here, do a few fun interviews, and leave, if Hannah could treat me nicely for once. But now? The gloves were off. Now I was in search of the truest stories, the ones that would best represent the silk feathered hats. And if Hannah and the rest of them weren’t happy with the end results, I wouldn’t feel guilty about it. I was here as a storyteller, a fly on the wall, not as a friend. Not anymore. And if they didn’t like that, maybe it’d force them to think about how they treated people.
I grabbed an orange soda from a cooler in the hallway and walked into a small room off to the right. Sahil was in there, setting up the shot. He’d placed a chair in front of a bookshelf that was mostly full of expensive-looking vases and china figurines, and not many actual books.
“Hey,” he said, beaming at me. “I thought maybe we could set up the camera in that corner.” He pointed across to the chair. “Victoria has a tripod if you want to use it.”
“Sounds good.” I smiled and walked up to him, close enough that we were toe to toe. I put my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating, strong and steady. Sahil would never treat me like the others. Sahil was always so good to me. I ran my hands from his chest down to his stomach and then around to his back. His smile faded as his eyes got heavy, his gaze traveling down to my lips.
“Did I tell you already that you look heart-stoppingly beautiful tonight?” Sahil said. “Mina Harker has nothing on you.”
I laughed quietly. “I don’t know. I don’t have that whole ingenue thing down like she does.”
Sahil shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “You don’t need it. You have something else … Chamatkaar.”
“Chamatkaar? What is that—magic? A miracle?”
He nodded. “When I was little, I thought the word meant ‘golden fireworks.’ I don’t know why or how I connected the two. But when I see you … every time, Twinkle, I feel those golden fireworks inside me. And the only reason I can think of is that you have some kind of chamatkaar. You must be a special kind of miracle.” He smiled a little abashedly, like he was afraid he’d said too much.
I didn’t even think twice. I just laced my hands behind his head and pulled him to me. His eyes widened, surprised at first, but then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me as close as I could go. Our bodies molded together, his fingers digging into my hips, his mouth just as hungry, just as fevered, as mine. The only thought going through my head was, Finally. What had taken me so long? Why had I been so slow to figure out that Sahil was the one, that he’d always been the one? No matter what connection I’d thought I had with Neil all those ages ago, it was Sahil who was here now. Sahil who’d been here, who was so my type it was like he’d been created in a matchmaking factory just for me. Just like Sofia Coppola, I was a sucker for a love story. I’d just been too blind to see the one unfolding right before my eyes.
I pulled back and smiled at him, my fingers still in his hair. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can breathe. And all of these people? They don’t matter. They’re … they’re nothing.”
Sahil’s smile morphed into a half frown. “I wouldn’t say they don’t matter. I think Victoria’s been pretty nice to you, yeah? Inviting you here, letting us do the footage, use her house …”
And she’d done my makeup and hair the night of the carnival, too, though Sahil didn’t know that. “Sure, sure. But the rest of them? Hannah and Maddie and Francesca and the others?” I rolled my eyes. “Please.”
Sahil put his hands on my shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed with what looked like concern. “You know, maybe you need a break from all this filmmaking stuff.”
“Why?”
“I’ve just … I’ve never heard you talk about anyone like that. You sound so …” He looked at me.
“What?”
“Cold. You sound cold and unlike you.”
I smiled, but I could tell it was hard, like a sliver of ice. Sahil had been right before; I’d been awful to Lewis. But now? He hadn’t seen how Hannah had just treated me. He couldn’t understand what it felt like to be me, how tiresome it got to play the leading role in Invisible Girl day after day, month after month. But somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him any of that. Putting my hands on my hips I said, “Oh, so now I’m cold? I thought I was chamatkaar.”
Sahil stared at me. “Twinkle, I’m not trying to fight with you. I’m just saying—”
“I heard you, Sahil. But you don’t know what those girls are like. You don’t have to put up with it like I do. So do me a favor and spare me the sermon.”
He laughed a little disbelievingly. “Wow. All right. I hear you loud and clear.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “I’ll get the actors for the interview.”
I grabbed his arm, regret pinching in my chest. “Hey, look. I don’t want to fight either. I’m sorry. I just want to get this done and wrapped up. And then we can enjoy the party, okay?”
He studied my face and then nodded. Planting a light, soft kiss on my forehead, he left.
While Sahil rounded up people for me to interview, I walked to the kitchen for a glass of ice; the soda I’d picked up was getting warm. On my way there, I happened to glance out into the dining room and saw Francesca standing by the sliding glass doors, her face a mask of complete anger. My pulse kicked up a notch; I could sense a story. I walked out there and stood next to her, looking at what she was looking at.
Love,
Twinkle
Saturday, June 20, post-party
Sahil’s car again (he’s getting gas)
Dear Ava DuVernay, In the history of horrible, obnoxious, hideous, loathsome nights, this one would get its own full-color page, complete with attention grabbing headlines smattered with !!!! and unflattering pictures of me stealing away into the darkness, my collar up and my head down.
It started out okay. Sahil and I got to the cabin (it was obvious which one was Victoria’s parents’ because of the thumping bass and ten shrieking teens trying to climb into the fountain in the front yard). It was one of those enormous mountain chalet getaway thingies, with huge windows and logs and stuff. As soon as we entered, Sahil left to talk to Victoria about setting up a quiet space for the behind-the-scenes interviews. I walked up to Hannah, who was surrounded by the usual gaggle of juniors and seniors, including Maddie. Apparently she’d decided her dad’s show was worth missing for this party. Slowly, the chatter died down as they registered the presence of an intruder in their midst.
“Can I help you?” Hannah asked. She looked gorgeous, with this ombré lip gloss and a deep burgundy strapless dress that set off her blond hair. Her friends all stared at me, and Maddie shifted from foot to foot, looking like she was in pain. Which might have been because she was wearing six-inch wedge sandals or because she was uncomfortable with the situation.
“I just wanted to say happy birthday,” I said, handing Hannah the small silver-wrapped box. Sahil and I had chipped in for a gift card to Nordstrom together.
She took it with a small smile/grimace on her face. “Thanks.”
“That’s cool of you,” Maddie said after a pause. “To bring a present, I mean.”
I stared at her in shock for a moment before recovering. Maddie was being nice to me in front of Hannah? Was it one of the signs of the apocalypse or something? “Um, yeah. No worries.”
A glance passed between Maddie and Hannah, and then, sighing, Hannah said to me, “Help yourself to drinks or whatever.”
“Thanks. I’m mostly here to do the behind-the-scenes interviews, but that’s nice of you.”
Apparently done with me, Hannah returned to her friends, and they closed ranks, their backs facing me like a wall. Maddie tossed me a small, apologetic shrug, but that was it. She didn’t say anything else. I felt my new friend, anger, begin to bubble inside me. Why was Hannah so intent on excluding me when I’d never done anything to her?
I didn’t break my stride as I tried to find Sahil, but the thought slammed into me, hard: That was the last chance. I’d been willing to just come here, do a few fun interviews, and leave, if Hannah could treat me nicely for once. But now? The gloves were off. Now I was in search of the truest stories, the ones that would best represent the silk feathered hats. And if Hannah and the rest of them weren’t happy with the end results, I wouldn’t feel guilty about it. I was here as a storyteller, a fly on the wall, not as a friend. Not anymore. And if they didn’t like that, maybe it’d force them to think about how they treated people.
I grabbed an orange soda from a cooler in the hallway and walked into a small room off to the right. Sahil was in there, setting up the shot. He’d placed a chair in front of a bookshelf that was mostly full of expensive-looking vases and china figurines, and not many actual books.
“Hey,” he said, beaming at me. “I thought maybe we could set up the camera in that corner.” He pointed across to the chair. “Victoria has a tripod if you want to use it.”
“Sounds good.” I smiled and walked up to him, close enough that we were toe to toe. I put my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating, strong and steady. Sahil would never treat me like the others. Sahil was always so good to me. I ran my hands from his chest down to his stomach and then around to his back. His smile faded as his eyes got heavy, his gaze traveling down to my lips.
“Did I tell you already that you look heart-stoppingly beautiful tonight?” Sahil said. “Mina Harker has nothing on you.”
I laughed quietly. “I don’t know. I don’t have that whole ingenue thing down like she does.”
Sahil shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “You don’t need it. You have something else … Chamatkaar.”
“Chamatkaar? What is that—magic? A miracle?”
He nodded. “When I was little, I thought the word meant ‘golden fireworks.’ I don’t know why or how I connected the two. But when I see you … every time, Twinkle, I feel those golden fireworks inside me. And the only reason I can think of is that you have some kind of chamatkaar. You must be a special kind of miracle.” He smiled a little abashedly, like he was afraid he’d said too much.
I didn’t even think twice. I just laced my hands behind his head and pulled him to me. His eyes widened, surprised at first, but then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me as close as I could go. Our bodies molded together, his fingers digging into my hips, his mouth just as hungry, just as fevered, as mine. The only thought going through my head was, Finally. What had taken me so long? Why had I been so slow to figure out that Sahil was the one, that he’d always been the one? No matter what connection I’d thought I had with Neil all those ages ago, it was Sahil who was here now. Sahil who’d been here, who was so my type it was like he’d been created in a matchmaking factory just for me. Just like Sofia Coppola, I was a sucker for a love story. I’d just been too blind to see the one unfolding right before my eyes.
I pulled back and smiled at him, my fingers still in his hair. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can breathe. And all of these people? They don’t matter. They’re … they’re nothing.”
Sahil’s smile morphed into a half frown. “I wouldn’t say they don’t matter. I think Victoria’s been pretty nice to you, yeah? Inviting you here, letting us do the footage, use her house …”
And she’d done my makeup and hair the night of the carnival, too, though Sahil didn’t know that. “Sure, sure. But the rest of them? Hannah and Maddie and Francesca and the others?” I rolled my eyes. “Please.”
Sahil put his hands on my shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed with what looked like concern. “You know, maybe you need a break from all this filmmaking stuff.”
“Why?”
“I’ve just … I’ve never heard you talk about anyone like that. You sound so …” He looked at me.
“What?”
“Cold. You sound cold and unlike you.”
I smiled, but I could tell it was hard, like a sliver of ice. Sahil had been right before; I’d been awful to Lewis. But now? He hadn’t seen how Hannah had just treated me. He couldn’t understand what it felt like to be me, how tiresome it got to play the leading role in Invisible Girl day after day, month after month. But somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him any of that. Putting my hands on my hips I said, “Oh, so now I’m cold? I thought I was chamatkaar.”
Sahil stared at me. “Twinkle, I’m not trying to fight with you. I’m just saying—”
“I heard you, Sahil. But you don’t know what those girls are like. You don’t have to put up with it like I do. So do me a favor and spare me the sermon.”
He laughed a little disbelievingly. “Wow. All right. I hear you loud and clear.” He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “I’ll get the actors for the interview.”
I grabbed his arm, regret pinching in my chest. “Hey, look. I don’t want to fight either. I’m sorry. I just want to get this done and wrapped up. And then we can enjoy the party, okay?”
He studied my face and then nodded. Planting a light, soft kiss on my forehead, he left.
While Sahil rounded up people for me to interview, I walked to the kitchen for a glass of ice; the soda I’d picked up was getting warm. On my way there, I happened to glance out into the dining room and saw Francesca standing by the sliding glass doors, her face a mask of complete anger. My pulse kicked up a notch; I could sense a story. I walked out there and stood next to her, looking at what she was looking at.
