Page 3 of Cinematic Destinies
She laughed. “It wouldn’t faze them, they’re used to me, but I’ll change on the jet.”
“Have a nice weekend.”
“You too.”
“Betty,” he called, before she made it out the door. She turned to face him and raised her eyebrows. “When you get back, Scrabble and takeout? We could try that new Indian place.”
“Sure,” she replied. “Sounds great. Bye.”
“Bye.”
ALBERT SCOOPED UP HIS NOTEBOOKS ANDcolored pencils and stuck them in his laptop bag.
“Don’t forget your headphones. For the plane,” Ryan said, gesturing to the table.
“Thanks,” Albert replied, sticking the headphones in the side pouch of his suitcase. “Listen, I gotta go. My ride’s outside.”
“Wait,” Ryan said.
“My sister is pretty uptight. She’ll be upset if I’m late for the flight.”
“Please,” he said, grazing Albert’s hand and looking straight into his blue eyes. “Just sit with me for a minute. I’m sorry about last night and . . .”
“I really can’t be late,” Albert muttered, averting his gaze.
Ryan sighed. He extended his hand and implored, “Please, just give me a minute.”
Albert reluctantly sat on the couch but kept his hands in his lap.
“What I said last night came out all wrong. I didn’t mean it to sound like an ultimatum. But you’ve always said you’re really close with your parents. Your mother already knows, and you said she completely accepts you. If you’d only tell your father then . . .”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
Albert ran his hand through his sideswept ash-brown hair and took a deep breath. “My dad’s a movie star, a leading man. And . . . he and my mom have this iconic love story. He proposed to her in front of the whole world, like it was nothing. They even named me after Albie Hughes, you know, the famous actor, and . . .”
“What?” Ryan asked.
“I don’t want to disappoint anyone, that’s all. I’m different from them and maybe I just want to fit in.”
“Can’t you fit in being yourself?”
“I’m . . . I’m not ready. I understand if you don’t want to hang out anymore. Please lock up when you go back to your place. I’m sorry, I have to go,” he said, rising. He opened the apartment door, and Ryan called to him.
“Al, you spend so much time drawing superheroes. Maybe it’s time to be the hero of your own story. You deserve that. You deserve to be who you are. We all do.”
“Yeah,” he whispered, gently closing the door behind him.
“FUCK, WHERE’S MY OTHER SHOE?”Georgia yelped, searching the floor, wearing only a G-string.
“Come back to bed, baby.”
“I can’t,” she said, looking under the couch.
“You’ve got a great ass. Bring it back over here.”
“Ah, here it is!” she exclaimed, holding up the brown leather sandal. “For a minute I thought I’d have to drive all the way to LA barefoot.”
