It was a core memory that cemented our friendship, especially because he simply didn’t care. About my past, my old reputation—any of it. To him, I was simply the guy who couldn’t hold up at a college football game. My first one, too.
A memory he doesn’t let go of.
My eyes move to the clock on the wall, and the second hand slowly keeps moving from one number to the other. How long is this class supposed to be, again? We only started five minutes ago, and I’m already ready to head out and go to the aquarium, but my supervisor isn’t expecting me until five o’clock.
The hour hand is at two.
“And what, Mr. Shentu, does a film capture?” Professor Ross asks, breaking through my thoughts.
I snap my head to attention, not realizing that we’re at the participation portion of this class, already. Everyone, aside from Vincent, has their eyes on me, and I’m immediately transported back to my first year at college.
The stares, the interrogation. It doesn’t affect me as much as it had before, but I still feel my heartbeat quicken, and that alone is hard enough to handle.
Think, Crew.I tell myself.You’re not at a premiere—it’s just class. So say some bullshit that can pass off as an intelligent response.
“Uh,” I begin, looking through my textbook. “Film captures the details that we seem to miss with the naked eye?”
Professor Ross eyes me before nodding. “Good answer. Does anyone else have something to add to Mr. Shentu’s response?”
I let out a breath of relief, thankful that’s over.
“Don’t get too cocky,” Vinny whispers. “That’s only the beginning.”
And my best friend couldn’t have said it better himself. Man, I already find myself wishing to go back to Australia. Those fall months—or spring, in their case—were so calm and stress-free. Free of film-speak, nothing but me and the sea mammals I’d been studying.
Just as I hoped for, the class ends an hour later instead of three, and the entire class shuffles out of the room.
We step outside the building, where the cold January breeze immediately hits me. Normally, Los Angeles weather is the same year-round, except for January. The temperature drops, but not nearly enough for snow to fall.
In other words, my ideal temperature.
Ali Rios waits for us outside the building, perched on one of the tables, scrolling through her phone. Vinny approaches her, covering her eyes with both hands. When she removes them and turns around, she smacks her lips to his, and I turn away.
Partly because public displays of affection make the outside world feel a little cramped to me, and also to save myself from the small, figurative needle piercing my heart whenever I see them happy and in love. Seeing as how they are almost always together, my heart might as well be receiving daily acupuncture treatments.
The day I first met Ali was before Vinny introduced her to me as his girlfriend. We shared a biology class, yet never interacted. I thought she was beautiful then, and I still think so today. The only difference is that I keep it to myself.
My best friend was the same regarding his love life until Ali entered it.
“Hi, Crew!” She exclaims, with a bright smile accompanying those beautiful hazel eyes and a wave. “How was class?”
I shrug, but Vinny speaks up. “Good, but this guy won’t stop complaining.” He jabs a thumb in my direction, to which I roll my eyes at him in response.
“Oh, come on, Crew,” Ali teases. “It can’t be that bad.”
I shoot her a glare. “It’s my definition of hell.”
“But you get to talk about movies the entire time instead of starring in them. Isn’t that somewhat easier?”
Easier? If the word “easier” were a synonym for “triggering,” then sure. Nothing is easier than fishing through my brain and reflecting on how the first eighteen years of my life were hell, thanks to the people I was raised by.
Ali senses my response and, thankfully, drops the subject by asking Vincent, “Did you reserve the lanes?”
He shakes his head. “The palace requires a group of three or more to reserve a whole lane.”
She groans. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, and it’s not like we can…” He stops before turning to me with a grin that I only recognize when he’s about to beg for something. Sadly, I’ve been on the receiving end of that grin more times than should legally be allowed.
