Chapter 21

I barely make it inside my apartment before my Author summons button glows. I groan, even though working might help distract me from obsessing over Zelda.

When I land, Ava stands waiting for me with a tall glass of tomato juice. Thanks to my excessive thirst, I don’t even care that tomato juice makes me want to vomit.

“An Inspiring Teacher Trope did a scene with me earlier,” Ava says as I gratefully chug the brackish beverage, trying not to engage my taste buds. “She explained that tomato juice provides the most effective electrolyte replacement after a jump so you can perform at your highest level.”

“I appreciate your concern.” She can’t know a Developed has never served me anything before, and I don’t want to unsettle her with an over-the-top reaction to her kindness.

“Well, maybe I could’ve been nicer to you these past couple of days, Riley.”

Both her sincerity and her use of my actual name floor me. She takes the empty glass from my hand and returns it to the craft services table, which is lucky because otherwise I might have dropped the glass in shock. I follow her over to the table and dig into a bowl of jelly beans to cleanse my palate.

“I want our scenes to keep Readers up at night,” she continues. “I want them to engage in passionate discussions about whether Ava should be with Marsden or with Rafferty. And for that to happen, I need to be invested. And so do you.”

This sounds to me like the Author talking, but I don’t want to offend her by suggesting as much. “Whose team are you on? Team Marsden or Team Rafferty?”

Ava ponders this. “The Author hasn’t figured that out yet.”

“Your choice in a love triangle depends on who you want to be,” I say, like I’m imparting some sacred literary wisdom, instead of something Finn once told me while roasting marshmallows. “If you choose Rafferty, you’re saying you can’t stop clinging to the past, while choosing Marsden means you’re embracing your future.”

“That sounds incredibly biased,” Ava says, but there’s a teasing note in her voice so I know she’s not upset. “Maybe it’ll all come down to who kisses the best. So prepare to pucker up!”

I blow her a kiss.

“Oh, you want to practice a bit before we go on set?” She shuffles her feet and won’t look at me. Out of shyness? Reluctance? How do I keep landing in mixed-signal city? Not that it matters in this case.

“It feels more genuine if it arises in the moment,” I say, diplomatically. And to lessen the tension, I throw a pair of green jelly beans at her.

“Hey!” she protests, and loads up on her own candy ammunition, which obviously leads us down the slippery slope of food fighting. It may start with innocent intentions, but it always ends with a face full of frosting, doesn’t it?

I do a mental comparison of the Ava I first met and the Ava who stands before me now. She still defaults to prim, but I can’t imagine the Ava of a few days ago happily licking cake off the sides of her mouth. It’s endearing.

A Burly Stagehand enters with a broom. He shakes his head at us while he sweeps.

“I’m surprised the Author hasn’t called us in yet,” Ava says as we dust the crumbs off our clothes and apply towels to the gunk on our skin.

“You have a chocolate sprinkle on your earlobe.” I lean in with my mouth open as if I’m going to bite the sprinkle away, but as she turns her head her nose bangs into my chin. We both startle and back off to give each other space. Awkward.

She drifts over to her chair, and I watch the Burly Stagehand wipe down the craft services table. All traces of our fun disappear as if they never existed.

Finally, we get the green light for the day’s work. Our wardrobe appears on the rack. I have to wear a pair of camo-printed galoshes and Ava gets a red jacket with a hood.

The Author begins to revise the scene we did yesterday. She starts by adding setting details, so that instead of occupying a blank space, Ava and I are now crouched below the bleachers as fat raindrops splatter and plunk on the metal above our heads.

The Author describes the freshly mown grass of the football field, the darkening sky of dusk, and the faraway drone of the cars on the highway beyond the school until it all comes to life around us. I put everything else out of my head and allow myself to be present in the moment. No analyzing the Author’s choices, just feeling the words she types flow through me.

Ava zips up her jacket and pulls on the hood so it casts shadows on her face. “Rain, rain, go away.”

“Don’t you mean: rain, rain, please stay?” I say.

“Why? You like getting rained on?”

Her hood is wide and loose, and I tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “I like kissing in the rain.”

She shivers and her voice goes all husky and low. “You do?”

“I do.”

Lightning strikes somewhere close, illuminating her parted lips and curious eyes. Thunder shakes the concrete beneath us. We kiss, and we’re so caught up in it we barely notice it has started to pour.

When we finally break apart, my feet are the only dry part on my body.

Ava makes fun of my drowned-fox appearance, and I grab her hand, and we run all the way to her house, only stopping once we get to her porch.

“Thanks for getting me home safely, Marsden.” She grins. “And thanks for introducing me to the positive side of rain. I’m sold.”

“Keep checking the weather forecast,” I joke, “and we’ll meet up for the next storm.”

The television blares from the living room, and pots and pans clang together in the kitchen. “I have to go inside now,” she says, though she seems reluctant to do so. “But don’t catch a cold. I want to see you tomorrow.”

“Even if the sun shines?”

“Even then.” She slips through her door and shuts it behind her.

And . . . end of scene.

The setting disappears, and Ava and I once again occupy a bare stage.

I’ve journeyed so deeply inside of Marsden’s skin, I have to close my eyes for a few seconds and take a deep breath to reset.

“Wow.” Ava puts her hand over her heart. “Go Team Marsden!”

We walk backstage together.

“So are you going to petition the Author for more kissing scenes, then?” I tease.

She hangs up her drenched jacket. “Even if the sun shines.”