Here is what the official kiss count at the end of today will be:
August and Noah: 1
Paige and Rainer: 0
We’re finally filming their first kiss today—a scene that takes place in the hut-house during a huge rainstorm. Romantic, sure. Nerve-racking, definitely. Of course, the sun is out and blazing on our actual Hawaiian island, and for the moment we’re inside on the soundstage rehearsing.
Here’s the situation: Noah and August have been fighting their feelings since they got to the island. August is his best friend’s girlfriend, after all. But as the days and weeks wear on, they start to realize they might never be rescued, and they give in to their feelings. Cosmo actually called our version of the kiss “the most anticipated lip-lock of the year.” That’s a lot to live up to, but I get it. It’s supersexy in the book. And I want to do right by the scene. The truth is I’ve been equal parts dreading and looking forward to filming it, and I sort of can’t believe it’s actually here.
Noah and August seem to be on track. And Rainer and I are, too, I think. Last night we had dinner. We went to Longhi’s, and a few girls around my age recognized Rainer and asked for his autograph. Dinner felt different from the way it has before. It felt like a real date. We shared a dessert. Our spoons clinked against each other, and he touched my knee under the table. I felt those girls watching us, watching me. The girl who was out with Rainer Devon—I liked it.
After dinner, he walked me back to my door and reached for my hand. He brought it up to his cheek. He was so painfully beautiful. I just wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and draw him in. I know he wanted to, too. All these weeks have built up between us like electricity.
But when he went to lean his lips down to mine, I couldn’t do it. It suddenly felt terrifying. It seems like so much is invested in our story already. Like as soon as we kiss, everything will change. And I want to be ready for that, but I’m not sure I am. I need him. He’s the one person in my life right now who understands me. Who is holding my hand through this. What if we get together and then it ends and I lose him? Is that a risk I’m willing to take?
“I’m sorry,” I said. I reached my arms up and ran my thumb down the back of his neck. I felt my chest press closer to his, like my heart was trying to line right up with his rib cage. “It’s—it’s like if we kiss, it’s more than a kiss. Do you know what I mean?”
“That’s what all the ladies tell me,” he said.
I shoved him. “Oh my God, are you ever serious?”
“Hey.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “We have plenty of time.” He put his hand on my face. Held it there. “We have three movies’ worth of time.”
I laughed, and so did he. Then he kissed me on the forehead and disappeared down the hallway.
And now here we are, ready to film this kiss. At least on paper. But we can’t get started because unlike yesterday, today it’s not raining.
Jessica has a big piece of bamboo filled with sand and painted with these crazy African hieroglyphics. It’s her “rain stick,” and she brings it out almost every day—trying to make it rain, or trying to make it stop raining. Because of the unpredictable weather, we’ve started prepping for five or six scenes in case we can’t shoot the ones we had planned on for any given day. They’ve built sets in an old, abandoned shed by the beach and even one in Wyatt’s condo. Anywhere we can physically film, we have.
Wyatt thinks this is nuts and is constantly yelling at Jessica to “put the damn thing away,” but I think that secretly, maybe, he believes it works. Because honestly, most of the time, it sorta does.
This morning Rainer is running around the set with the rain stick, singing that song about the rain in Africa. The second unit has gone out to get some extra pickup shots, and Wyatt and Camden are trying to figure out how and if they can set up the scene here and bring in fake rain, and Jessica is talking to the props department, trying to figure out what happened to the fake mud. I’m still not sure why movie mud has to be fake. It’s not like blood, you’re not harming anything if you actually take the real stuff. Although, I guess, Jake might think you were.
“Sing it with me, PG,” Rainer says, holding the rain stick in front of me like a microphone.
“You’re in a good mood,” I say.
He looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “I get to kiss you today,” he says. “Shouldn’t I be?”
I blush what feels like fuchsia. I look away, over at Jessica, who is running by with a prop I can’t see.
We’re right on the edge of something, like the heavy, wet heat of the air right before a huge rainfall. Once our characters kiss, will it change things for us? Actors are always talking about how unromantic love scenes are, how there are a million people in the room, how strategic it is. But they’re still my lips. They’re still Rainer’s. I know it’s different, separate, but I feel the same way he does. It’s like we can’t take the leap, so our characters are doing it for us.
Wyatt makes an executive call: We’re going to film inside. The props crew immediately goes to work on constructing a set that will match the one we’ve already filmed on outside. They’ll use a green screen all around to be able to project the right background and match up shots in the editing room.
Wyatt has requested a closed set for this shoot, which means it will be Rainer, the immediate crew, and me. No Sandy, no extra crew members. No Jordan.
I remind myself of this as I run through lines in my head. It helps that he won’t be here—that it will just be Rainer and me.
I watch Rainer from the side stage, dancing around with the rain stick. His smile and easy charm. He pokes Jessica, and even though it’s obvious she’s in the middle of a million things, she doesn’t get mad. Rainer’s older than Jordan and me by a few years, but there’s something about him that’s so childlike. He’s just happy, like a little kid on Christmas morning. He makes other people smile, too. I used to think it was calculated—his celebrity charm. But now I know it’s not. It’s real.
Rainer is so different from Noah. Noah with his brooding, complicated past and mysterious aura. But they’re both incredibly loyal. Supportive. And I think, as it turns out, they both might want to kiss me. My blood zings through my veins at the thought, and I once again have to steady my heartbeat.
“You look concerned, PG.” Rainer sets the stick down and comes over to me. He places both his hands on my shoulders, and then runs them down to my elbows. I exhale. It feels good to have him close to me like this. It’s calming.
“Not concerned,” I say.
He tilts his head forward. “You sure?”
I shrug. “Maybe a little nervous.”
“Okay.” He turns me around, marches me over to a crate to the side of the soundstage, and motions for me to sit down. I tuck my costume, a white nightgown-dress, under me and fold my arms across my chest.
Rainer gently puts his hands on my knees, and kneels down in front of me so we’re eye level. “Hey,” he says, “it’s going to be fine. It’s just me and you.” He smiles—that warm, approachable, melting ice cream smile—and my nerves start to slacken.
“People care about this,” I say. “Everyone keeps saying how important this kiss is.…” I bury my head in my hands.
Rainer squeezes my knee. “Don’t think about them. It’s just us right now. Hey.” He lifts my fingers away from my face. “We’ll do our best. That’s all we can do.”
“What if my best isn’t good enough?”
He smiles at me. His eyes look into mine. “It will be. We have great chemistry.” He touches my shoulder. “Right?”
I swallow. Nod.
“You guys ready?” Wyatt comes over, Jessica at his heels. He’s wearing his Ramones T-shirt, which means today is a serious day. It’s his lucky shirt, and I can tell how important a shoot is by whether he’s wearing it or not.
“Ready,” I say. I try not to let my voice falter.
Rainer puts his hands on my shoulders, just below the blades, and nudges me forward. We follow Wyatt to where a makeshift set has been created in a matter of minutes. Sometimes the things they do around here are kind of magical. Like there are elves hidden in the palm trees or something.
I snap my eyes closed and take a deep breath. Inhale and exhale. I’m trying to imagine what August is feeling right now. She wants to be with this person more than anything else in the world, and finally he kisses her. He lets them go there. It’s wild abandonment—of their past, their future. It’s all about this moment. Not thinking. Just acting.
The first take is clumsy. I lean in too swiftly, and my nose knocks Rainer’s. I’m shaking. It’s making it hard to have any actual contact.
The second take is worse. I have developed the hiccups, an old nervous habit, and when Rainer leans in, my entire body jolts backward.
“Cut!” Wyatt yells. He runs a hand over his forehead. “Look,” he says to me. “What do we need here?”
“Sorry,” I say, my body convulsing as another hiccup goes ratcheting across my shoulders.
“I don’t know what’s going on with the two of you, but just pretend you’re someone else for a minute.”
“I am someone else,” I say. “I’m August.” This is getting to be like Acting for Dummies over here.
Wyatt shakes his head. “Get out of her, too.”
How can I tell Wyatt that kissing Rainer now, as August, feels like kissing him as Paige, too? All this flirting. All these glances and moments. They’ve been building to this, and I can’t separate myself out.
“Who then?” I ask.
“A model?” Rainer offers. “Preferably French. Thanks.” He smiles at me, shrugging his shoulders.
“You need to get out of your head,” Wyatt tells me. He’s frowning, and I’m afraid he’s going to start yelling, but instead he says, “Sometimes you need to be someone completely different. Someone who would grab Noah and have her way with him. Who would do that?”
Britney? “I don’t know,” I say.
Wyatt waves me off with the back of his hand and keeps talking. “Step out of the way. Take on a persona that would really make this happen tonight.” He looks at me. There it is again. His signature intensity. “Just fucking do it.”
“Okay,” I say. Except what I’m thinking is that the problem is not my being someone else, the problem is Rainer being someone else. I’m nervous to kiss him because of everything it would mean for us, our relationship. But right now we’re not ourselves. We’re August and Noah. A lost girl and boy.
I make the first move. Practically before the camera starts rolling, I’m attacking Rainer, grabbing his face and shoving it down against mine. It’s not very sexy, but hey, it’s contact. Let’s just get through it. Rainer seems amused by this, and starts cracking up. Wyatt, of course, yells cut.
Fourth take. Rainer places a hand on my elbow. He draws me closer, traces my jaw with his finger. I let my eyes slip closed. I lean closer. I feel Rainer right above me. Cut.
Wait, why? I glance over at Wyatt. “More intensity!” he yells.
Fifth take. I lean in, and so does Rainer, and our lips meet. It works. It way more than works. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he pulls me in closer. His hands are tight around me, and his lips are ziplocked to mine, so sealed I can barely even breathe. And I don’t want to. I want him to keep kissing me like this—like it’s just us on this island. His arms travel down my back, and I wind my fingers through his hair. My whole body feels on fire, and for a moment everything dissolves. We’re not on a set. We’re on an island. No one else matters. Nothing but this.
But then Rainer pulls back. I feel his lips leave mine, and I grope forward, not ready for the break in contact. My eyes are still closed when I hear him say, “You’re not supposed to be here.”
It’s Jordan. I know before I even look. Faded gray T-shirt, arms crossed.
“It’s raining,” he says, like this somehow answers anything.
“Shit.” Wyatt looks at him, then back at us. “It’s a closed set, Jordan.”
Jordan stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll leave.”
Rainer’s hand is still around my waist, and I feel him tug me in tighter. “Stay,” he says to Jordan. I watch them look at each other, watch Jordan’s eyes flit, briefly, to my hand on Rainer’s shoulder. It’s a challenge, and for a moment I feel a flare of anger that Rainer is claiming me right here, in front of Jordan.
“Then sit the hell down,” Wyatt yells. He leans over to Camden, and they discuss whether we should move outside, now that there is actual rain to contend with.
Meanwhile Jordan has slipped himself into a director’s chair. His scruffy sneakers dangle toward the floor, his arms draped over the sides. I can see the glint of raindrops on his forearms, the beads of water falling down his neck.
“Your heart is racing,” Rainer says to me. He tucks my head under his chin. I feel his chest rise and fall against me—steady, strong.
But I still can’t shake the feeling that Jordan’s watching me. I want to ask Rainer why he told Jordan to stay, but I’m miked, so I can’t. Even if I know the answer, I want to hear it.
We go again. Rainer bends his head down, and I pull him closer. His mouth is warm against mine, his hair soft. I try to stay focused. To not lose myself in him. I don’t want to give Jordan the satisfaction of watching that. I can feel Rainer’s heart hammering against mine.
“Cut!” Wyatt calls. He looks us over, then back at Jordan. “All right,” he says. He checks his watch. “Let’s break for lunch.”
“Lunch” is any time when we’re halfway through the scenes we have to do for the day. Usually it’s around dinnertime, which means while I have a few hours left, the boys are gearing up for a night of shooting.
I glance over to see if Jordan is still there. He is. He’s seated, watching us, but when I look over, he turns his head sharply and begins talking to Camden. I want to make an effort. I want things to be okay on this set. But I’m starting to get pretty sick of his attitude.
The sound guy comes and takes our mikes off. I’m happy to be out of earshot for now.
“Hey, PG,” Rainer says. He’s still so close to me, and his hand is resting on my side, right at the curve of my back. “Walk with me?”
I nod.
He takes my hand. I jostle to see if Jordan is watching us leave, but I can’t meet his eyes, and Rainer is already halfway out the door. When we’re outside, I find that it is, in fact, raining hard. We huddle to the side of the sound studio, where there is a slight awning but not enough to prevent us from getting wet. It’s only been about twenty seconds, and already my nightgown is nearly soaked through. Rainer puts one hand on my waist, right where he last left it, and nudges me closer to him. “Come here,” he says. He has this look on his face like he wants to say something. I hold my breath. But he doesn’t talk. He doesn’t say anything. He kisses me.
My chest tightens and then swells as his lips come down on mine. My hands travel up his arms to grip his shoulders. He presses me to him so there is no space between us. He’s kissing me with so much intention. It’s gentle and soft and strong and sweet all at once. It’s everything I have wanted. I can feel us getting soaked, feel the rain on our faces, but I don’t care. We’re finally here.