Page 56 of The Dazzling Heights
“You want me to quit school to come work for you?”What about my scholarship?her dazed mind thought, but Xiayne was already answering her unasked question.
“Berkeley has a system for things like this. Hell, last year one of your classmates took a month off to go scuba in the Everglades, study the underwater biologics or something. It’s a quick shoot; I’ve already filed it as a weeklong internship. And don’t worry, all your travel costs are covered by the arts department,” he added.
“But what would I be doing, exactly?”
“Can I have one of those?” Xiayne gestured to her package of choco-berry cookies. Rylin held it out, confused, and he grabbed one, taking an enormous bite. Then he wiped the gooey chocolate onto his jeans and spoke again. “Don’t get me wrong, Rylin, being an assistant is hard work. A lot of fetching and carrying, helping set the lighting, managing the talent. They can be … difficult.” He gave a little eye roll to emphasize just how difficult. “But it’s also rewarding. I started just like this, back in the day. I promise it all feels worth it when you see your name in lights at the end of the film.”
Rylin felt a sudden flutter in her chest. “You’d put my name in the credits?”
“Of course I would. I do that for all my assistants.”
Rylin thought guiltily of Chrissa, who would be alone for an entire week; but Chrissa was self-sufficient enough to handle things on her own. And Chrissa would want her to go. She was so proud that Rylin was back in school, and actually enjoying it.
Why not? She owed herself the opportunity to at least try. “What do I need to do?”
Xiayne grinned. “I already sent the paperwork to you. Just have one of your parents sign it, and we’re good to go.”
“Actually, I don’t have any parents at home. I’m a legal adult,” Rylin declared. She pulled up her tablet, quickly located the file, and held her thumb to the bright blue circle to stamp the document. A moment later, the screen flashed green in approval.
“You don’t have any parents at home?” Xiayne repeated, puzzled.
“My mom died a couple of years ago. Since then, it’s just been me and my sister. I was working the last few years. That’s why I’m a little behind on academics.” For once, Rylin didn’t feel embarrassed admitting that. Of all people, Xiayne would understand—hadn’t he just said he’d worked his way up from nothing?
Xiayne nodded. “You continue to impress me, Rylin,” he said, and stood up with a smile. He looked so young when he smiled, barely older than Rylin, with his soft features and shaggy dark curls. “If you’re a legal adult, I guess I have to pay you.”
“Oh, you don’t—”
“It’s only minimum wage, but if you have a problem, take it up with the union,” he went on, and Rylin laughed.
“Thank you,” she told him.
He nodded, his eyes dancing. “We leave tomorrow morning on the ’loop. I’ll send you your ticket.”
The last time she’d been on one of the Hyperloop trains was with Cord, to Paris, but Rylin reminded herself not to think about that.
Later that afternoon, Rylin walked into the front office for her mandatory meeting with the upper-school dean. Apparently the dean needed to personally approve every request for academic absence, even for a school-sponsored internship.
“Take a seat,” the front-desk attendant intoned, bored. Rylin sank onto the couch and pulled up a map of LA on her tablet, then began to zoom over various parts, trying to familiarize herself with the city. Not that she would probably see any of it except the film lot, she thought eagerly.
She felt worlds different from the girl who’d walked in here on her first day, all anxiety and uncertainty. Now she just felt excited, and curious about the week ahead.
“We can’t keep running into each other like this.” Cord took the seat next to her.
“You can’t keep stalking me like this,” Rylin retorted, her mood buoyed by her good news.
Cord grinned. “If I wanted to stalk you, trust me, I could do better than the school’s front office.”
They both fell silent. Rylin willed herself not to look at him, to look down at her tablet, at the stupid posters on the wall with inspirational quotes and images of mountains, anything but at Cord. She lasted a full eight seconds.
When she couldn’t take it anymore and turned in his direction, she caught Cord staring at her, with an expression of mingled wariness and curiosity and—she hoped—a glimmer of attraction. For a moment it seemed to Rylin that no time had passed, that it was the olden days again, back when he was deciding whether or not to trust her the first time. Back when Cord hadn’t been a wealthy, arrogant boy set to inherit billions and she hadn’t been the girl who cleaned his bathrooms—but instead, somehow, they were just a boy and a girl, talking in quiet tones about the losses they had both suffered.
She wondered if they would ever be that way again.
“How did your fencing match go?” Cord asked.
“Oh, you know, I’m ruthless when it comes to fighting,” Rylin teased.
She’d meant it as a joke, but Cord didn’t laugh, and Rylin wondered if she’d hit too close to home. After all, the things she’d said to him the night Eris died had been cruel, and ruthless.
