Under the Lights

Huh. Now there’s something Josh and I actually have in common. Not that my parents are blackmailing me to stay home or anything, but the way they have me freaked out that Daylight Falls may be the very last well-paying job of my career definitely makes me think twice about leaving. Even if our situations aren’t exactly the same, it’s kinda nice to hear someone else have this problem. Maybe Josh and I aren’t such total opposites after all.

“I know what you mean. I need to get out of my parents’ house, but it’s so hard to make myself. I’m not sure I’m ready.”

He laughs. “Christ, K-drama, you still live with your parents? What are you, twelve? Man, you need a new place even worse than I do.”

When he walks away, he’s still laughing, his shoulders shaking.

Asshole.

* * *

I go straight from filming to the gym. I’m early for yoga, but I’m eager to get some of my aggression at both Liam and Josh — and myself — out on a punching bag. (Plus, I’m planning on wearing strapless to the Wonder Ball, and I love what it does for my arms.)

This one’s for making my best friend doubt you, I think as I give it a series of punches for Liam. And for getting movie roles thrown at you every second while I’m still struggling.

And this one’s for being a general pain in my ass. I throw a right hook, imagining Josh’s smug smile. And for calling me K-drama, you racist prick. And for laughing at me about my house. Even though I sort of deserve it and am sick of being a freaking child.

After half an hour, my muscles are screaming, and when I hear a familiar voice behind me calling my name, I give it a rest, taking a deep breath and a long chug from my water bottle as I turn to face Bri and wave with my free hand.

“Having an angry kinda day, huh?” she asks with a smile. Her hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and she’s wearing short black shorts and a matching Nine Inch Nails tee. Clearly, we do not share taste in music.

I pull back the water bottle. “How’d you guess?”

“The full workout before yoga’s even started was kind of a clue. Or are you skipping tonight?”

“Nope, I’m going.” The workout helped, but I need the total brain-clearing that only yoga provides. Plus, the idea of going back to my house right now holds zero appeal. I like being surrounded by people, even if we’re just sweating in dead silence.

“Good,” she says with a dimple-highlighting grin. “I’ve gotten spoiled, having you there.”

I feel the same way, but I feel silly saying it. I like knowing she’ll be here on Thursday nights, that we have a sort of standing date, even if it’s not really on purpose. I like knowing I’ll see a friend at least once a week. It feels especially good to see one tonight.

“Do you wanna talk about whatever’s bugging you?” she asks, her eyebrows knitting together in concern far more genuine than I’ve seen in a long time.

The thing is, I do. But she seems so comfortable… sexually. It’s cool that she’s out and proud. And of course, being bisexual doesn’t mean that she’s actually had sex. But I can’t help feeling like she’d laugh in my face at the idea of a purity pledge. Or at least she’d want to.

“Nah, thanks.” I force a smile back. “But I appreciate you asking.”

“Of course,” she says, linking an arm through mine and tugging me in the direction of the stairs up to the studio. “What are friends for?”

* * *

Though we obviously don’t talk during yoga, it’s nice just to see her there, to know I’ve got a friend in the room. When she makes a face at me in the mirror during Awkward Pose, it’s all I can do not to crack up. Which, considering the day I had, is no small feat.

I can’t help wondering if maybe I’m wrong, and she’d be understanding about the whole purity pledge thing, or at least be willing to let me talk about it. Normally, I’d make Ally hash it out with me for hours, but with all her Liam drama, I’m not sure she’s got any room for mine.

Clear head, I admonish myself. Deep breaths. Let the heat draw out all the stress.

By the time we pause to sip water after finishing the first round of poses, I’m actually feeling pretty Zen. And sweating like a pig, as usual. I yank my tank top over my head before we start again.

In the mirror, I swear I can see Bri watching me out of the corner of her eye.

I stand up a little straighter as we get back into the Standing Deep Breathing Pose, but when I glance in the mirror again, her eyes are closed. She looks focused. Determined. Her face gleams with sweat, but she looks calm — so unlike the Bri I know, who’s constantly joking and smiling. There isn’t even a hint of her dimple now.