Page 96 of Beyond the Bright Lights

I stand and give Gram a kiss on her cheek. I yell goodbye to Pa, who’s dozing in his recliner in the living room, an old western blaring on the television, and he grumbles a goodbye. Then I leave and head to Ginger’s house to pick her up.

Driving the three hours to Jonesboro is bittersweet this time. Almost as if it’s the final trip. The one offering closure. Ginger, Tyler, and I used to make this drive every weekend. We’d leave campus Friday evening and return to Silo to visit our families, then return to Jonesboro on Sunday nights, blaring top 40 hits, and songs from the 80s and 90s.

Ginger insisted we take her car today saying my VW Bug is a piece of shit and she doesn’t want to listen to the Spice Girls' Spice album on repeat. Ginger’s Camry is still at least fifteen years old, but it has air conditioning and an upgraded stereo system with Bluetooth. We connect her phone to a nostalgia channel so we can rock out to all the songs we listened to in high school and college.

We're fired up, not only excited about being extras in the movie, but because I told Ginger my plan. She responded with a high-pitched squeal, telling me how it would mean the world to her to be able to take over running Lilies.

We arrive to campus as the sun sets. The sky ignites in a wonderful ombre of cotton candy colors. It's hot but the decent breeze will offer some relief when we’re sitting in the metal stands for the next several hours.

A lot has changed since the last time I was here, which was close to ten years ago. More dull gray buildings have been erected, but the boring architecture is livened up with trees and colorful flowers. The landscaping is the best part of the campus, almost offering a serene environment for the students to counter the stresses of classes, tests, and planning a future.

After driving past all the buildings, we finally reach the football stadium, located off campus, half a mile away. We park in an area sectioned off for crew members, next to rows of the same white trailers I saw at Silo Springs High School, designated for the cast, or used to store filming equipment.

We’re greeted by a beefy security guard giving off The Rock vibes who escorts us to set. We pass by white tents erected to house more equipment. There’s also a tent for food and drinks with a neon green paper sign reading Craft Services.

Past the tents, background actors line up in groups, waiting to be herded into the stands. They spot us and start waving, calling my name and some even yelling Ginger’s name. We smile, wave back, and beg Beefy Security Guy to let us go over there for selfies and autographs. He shakes his head no, saying something about orders to bring us directly to Mylan Andrews.

Five minutes later, we arrive at the holding area where Mylan and other cast members are waiting to begin filming the first scene. Michelle Miller takes one look at Ginger and me approaching and snarls, turning on her heel to leave.

Good riddance.

Next to the holding area is Jensen’s tent, where important crew members whose titles I can’t remember huddle to go over the shot list. Jensen offers us a smile and a nod but appears too busy to come over to chat.

Mylan scoops me up in his arms the moment I reach him, and I yelp when he swings me around. I’m more surprised that he was able to lift my two hundred-some pound ass off the ground than the actual spinning around part. He sets me down after a few twirls and kisses me hungrily before taking my hand and leading me to a row of flimsy director chairs.

Ginger and Bruno are full-fledge making out, and I cough loud enough that they break apart. She flips me off but joins me with a smiling Bruno following.

I step aside and wave my hand at a director’s seat with Ginger’s name on it.

“I get my own chair?” she squeals.

Mylan smiles, tugging me against his side. “Lana already had one, so I asked the props department to make yours the moment I found out you were going to be an extra tonight.”

“You did this for me, Mylan Andrews?” Ginger asks, her voice a pitch higher. She brings him in for a hug, which also includes me. Then Bruno is wrapping his long, strong arms around the three of us.

“Isn’t this heartwarming?” Rebecca purrs as she walks into the tent.

We break apart and Ginger scowls. “Becca.”

“Ging,” Rebecca answers, her tone matching my best friend’s. The two are working on being civil around each other but they still have a ways to go. I told Ginger she’s actually been nice during this whole filming process.

To be fair, Rebecca never hated Ginger. Ginger also admitted that not including her friendship with Tyler and me in the book stung, but she ultimately understood and accepted Rebecca’s reasoning. Her dislike for Rebecca came during the years of constant calls, texts, and e-mails during the long process of getting the book turned into a movie. Ginger saw how it hindered my progress in grieving Tyler. How it stopped me from moving on. She felt Becca pushed me too hard.

Rebecca only wanted me to be involved because it was my life and love story. I did want to be involved. Then it started to weigh down on me. Still, I felt obligated to stick with it.

Until I could no longer hold myself together. Until the constant reminder of his death finally broke me.

Telling Rebecca I no longer wanted to help devastated her. She couldn’t understand and interpreted my leaving the project—as she called it—as an attack on her personally. She’d said some cruel things, and that is why my best friend started hating her. Ginger’s hate was stronger than mine because I understood how abandoning the process left Rebecca alone in her own grief. I felt guilty but, in the end, I had my own mental health to worry about.

Rebecca apologized a few weeks later for the things she said but the damage to our relationship was done. Now, we’re repairing that relationship and reconnecting through the filming of Tyler’s legacy.

Ginger tries out her director’s chair. She struggles to sit in it, like I did that first time, but the moment her ass hits the seat, she beams and pulls out her phone. She starts taking selfies, breaking out her duck lips and winking at the camera. “Babe.” She summons Bruno over. “Take a picture of me from the back. Make sure you can see my name.”

Rebecca shakes her head at Ginger and turns to me. “Final day. How are you feeling about everything?”

I smile, genuinely. “It’s been wonderful. I’m glad I got to be part of the process. And I’m sorry—”

Rebecca holds up a hand. “It’s all water under the bridge.” She focuses her attention on Mylan, patting him on the shoulder. “As for you, thank you for doing this role justice.”

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