We watch as the shield-maiden helps the dragon round up his sheep.
“And here!” Sam’s voice booms as he gallantly gestures toward the bound prince. “Your reward!”
On the screen, fourteen-year-old me unties a youthful Pete from his bonds.
I bite my lip, the color draining from my face.
The ending. How did I forget the ending?
“Kiss!” Sam directs from behind the camera. “It’s only an ending if you have a kiss.”
On the screen, young me blushes furiously while Pete glances nervously at the camera. There’s an awkward pause as we both look to Sam for guidance.
“I’ve never—” young me starts.
“I’ll show you,” comes the voice from behind the camera. The image dips and shakes as the camera fumbles, then steadies again, this time capturing fifteen-year-old Josh stalking over to me.
He positions me side-on to the camera and says, “Now. Like this.”
It’s not a peck—it’s a real kiss. His hands gently smooth my hair back as he pulls away, stepping back with a satisfied grin.
On the screen, young Pete frowns. “I have to do that? But she’s….”
“Or a peck. Whatever,” Sam calls from behind the camera. “Action!”
No one moves at first. Then Josh turns back toward the camera and claps his hands. “One kiss, and we’re done.”
The camera twists and straightens again, focusing on me.
“Action!” Josh calls again.
Pete looks at me. I look at him. But I’m not looking at the lens—I’m looking above it.
I’m looking at Josh.
I remember the confusing twist of emotions I felt. The budding desire, the uncertainty, the thrill of what had just happened.
Finally, young Pete reaches out, pulls me closer, and presses a quick kiss to my cheek before dropping my hands like they’re on fire.
“Cut!” Sam yells. “That’s a wrap!”
The screen fades to black.
I reach for the remote, but before I can grab it, new footage flickers to life. The camera shakes, feet stamping around in the frame.
Josh moves behind me, his hand brushing mine as he reaches for the remote. “We don’t have to watch this.”
“Uh-uh.” I twist away, shooting him a playful smile. “It might be something I can use for the wedd?—”
“You love Molly,” Sam’s voice cuts through the static, sharp and accusing.
I freeze, my heart skipping a beat as I turn to face the screen.
Young Josh’s face fills the shot. He’s looking away, packing up costumes. His jaw is tight, his hands methodical.
“Of course,” he says, his voice low but steady.
“Dude,” Sam says, softer now, almost sympathetic. “She loves Brad.”
