“You think everyone is gay.” Porter returned back to Cameron. “You’ll be hearing from me a lot in these next few weeks. I’ll set up drinks with you and a few other assistants once you get settled.”
“Porter’s going to be the next Jerry Bruckheimer,” Grayson said. “Only gay.”
“Top Gunwas plenty homosexual,” Porter said. “And Captain Jack Sparrow was practically a drag queen.”
They walked down Santa Monica Boulevard and passed cute, trendy shops and moms pushing the latest hi-tech strollers. The streets and sidewalks were clean and looked new. A row of palm trees shielded the horizon. Cameron couldn’t believe he got to live here year-round.
“It sucks that you have to miss graduation,” Porter said. “Senior Week is a blast. You basically own the campus for a week.”
Cameron shrugged it off. It couldn’t compare to working on a Hollywood backlot. “I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.”
“You said all your good-byes, too?”
“Yeah.” A pang of sadness flicked at his chest, but then he let the sunshine suck out all his pain. The future awaited.
When they crossed Ocean Avenue, Cameron caught his first true glimpse of the Pacific Ocean, stretching out until it met the sky. People dotted the beach and a few boats dotted the water. That’s all they were. Dots on this magnificent canvas.
Cameron’s eyes didn’t want to blink.
“Shall we?” Grayson asked.
Cameron galloped down the wooden stairs to the beach. He kicked off his flip-flops and buried his feet in the cool sand.
“Holy shit,” Cameron said. “We can just walk on?”
“Yeah.” Grayson seemed amused by him. “It’s a free country.”
Cameron ran for the water. His feet bounced through the sand, and he darted into the water up to his ankles.
“Crap, that’s cold!” He jumped up to the shore. “Is it always that cold?”
“Yep. It’s a big ocean. I don’t think the sun’s strong enough to heat it up,” Porter said.
Waves crashed on the shore. Real waves. Not the puny hiccups that Cameron had experienced on the Susquehanna River.
He couldn’t believe he was here. On a new coast. The scrappy kid from small-town Ohio stared out at the vast, expansive ocean. He thought of his mother and everything she had wanted to accomplish.
As the next wave touched down, Cameron dashed back into the water, ignoring the cold. He was up to his knees. The bottoms of his shorts dipped against the tide. He breathed in the salty smell of the sea.
He tossed his roommates his wallet and phone, and on the next wave, he dunked himself under. The drama from Browerton washed off him. When he came back up, he was reborn.
Φ
Cameron had never been this close to an Oscar statue. Mobius Pictures won a Best Picture Oscar a few years back, and the trophy sat in a glass case in the center of the lobby. A tall, wiry man with wiry glasses and a mop of thinning hair exited the elevator and greeted Cameron.
“I’m Brad.”
“Cameron.”
“You ready?” Brad told him he was Arthur’s assistant before he got promoted. He directed him to the elevator. He pressed the button for the tenth floor.
“I read some of the coverage you’ve been doing for Arthur’s scripts. You really lovedMakeshift Coriander.”
“That script is amazing,” Cameron said. “It’s dark, complex. I’ve never seen a movie like it. I can’t wait to see the actress they cast for Helena.”
“Arlo Falconer has expressed interest in playing the president, so the script is getting tweaked slightly to accommodate him.”
“Intersting.” That wasn’t whom Cameron imagined to play the president. Arlo Falconer was known for his comedies, beloved in Browerton’s frat row. “The president doesn’t have a large role in the script. I’m surprised he’d want to do it.”
