Page 61 of The Hookup
“I won’t miss a thing,” I assured him. “If someone wanted to reach me, they could get my contact information from my friends and schedule a call to interview me. But I already know I wouldn’t want whatever they were offering.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s just say I’ve done a lot of soul searching lately, and I’ve realized what I want from my career.”
“What do you want?”
“I’ll tell you later, when you’re not a few hours out of surgery and probably getting exhausted by all of this.” He still looked concerned, but I left it at, “Please don’t worry, Ryder. It’s all going to work out. I promise.”
The nurses were nice enough to let me sleep on a cot in Ryder’s room that night. By the next day, he seemed more like his old self. I knew he had to be in pain, even with the meds. He downplayed it though, probably because he didn’t want to worry me.
He’d broken his phone when he dropped it, so he used mine to check in with Dwight, who assured him everything at the ranch was under control. Dwight had moved his travel trailer onto the property, so he could stay there and keep an eye on things around the clock. He’d also brought in his cousin to lend a hand, and he’d gotten calls from several of Ryder’s teammates, who were willing to come and help as needed.
“See? You have nothing to worry about,” I said, once he ended the call.
“You’re right, but I’m going to worry anyway.”
His teammates filtered in throughout the day. Ryder borrowed a laptop from one of them, so he and I could watch alive feed of the fashion show. JoJo was in the front row, filming the whole thing for me, and Vee and Kit were backstage, getting everything ready.
Kit was the third student to show his collection. His gorgeous drag queens strutted the runway to RuPaul’s “Sissy That Walk.” It was pure joy, and both the clothes and the models were a big hit.
At the end of every collection, it was customary for the designer to come out and take a bow. Kit looked shy and self-conscious as he rushed onto the stage, bowed quickly, and darted off again.
Six more students showed their stuff, and then it was my turn. The announcer said, “Next up is Hal Nakamura. This collection is entitled ‘Bloom,’ and it’s dedicated to Ryder Woods.”
“If I Had You” by Adam Lambert started to play. I’d selected it both because I loved Adam, and because it had a slamming beat that was great to walk to.
Then the first of my models appeared. I’d taught all of them how to hold their heads high, walk with attitude, and own the runway, and they delivered like seasoned pros.
I felt so many emotions as I took it all in. The girls had decided to walk hand-in-hand, and that was so sweet. Every piece was exactly what I wanted it to be, a juxtaposition of edgy and soft, wild and refined. At one point, JoJo whispered, “Oh Hal, it’s all just so gorgeous.”
Last up was the wedding dress, in all its glory. It was hand-painted silk, miles of tulle, and pure, joyous fantasy. When it appeared, an audible gasp went through the crowd. It looked wild and ethereal and otherworldly, and it was unapologetically beautiful.
The model was a young man who’d spent years as a ballet dancer, and he fucking killed it. I’d told him he could dowhatever he wanted on the runway. He started off taking a few steps before breaking into a run and leaping into the air in a perfectgrandjeté, the dress’s train billowing like a cloud. The audience gasped again, and I laughed and started crying at the same time, because I was overcome with joy.
After that, as all six models walked the runway in a line, Ryder whispered, “Listen to that, Hal. That’s for you.”
The applause was thunderous. I could hear JoJo cheering as she panned her phone to show me the audience. “It’s a standing ovation, Hal,” she said, as tears streamed down my face. “You killed it, just like I knew you would.”
Ryder squeezed my hand as I whispered, “They like it.”
He shook his head. “No. They absolutelylove it.”
I started laughing when Vee and Kit appeared on the stage. They were carrying a life-size cardboard cutout that had probably started out as Ozzy Osbourne, judging by the hair and the all-black outfit. They’d printed a picture of my face and stuck it on the cutout, along with letters that spelled out my name across its chest. As a finishing touch, they’d dressed it in one of my long, black cardigans.
I dried my eyes as they left the stage and the next student was announced. JoJo was recording the whole show for me, so I decided to watch the rest later. I set aside the laptop, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “That’s it,” I said. “I’m done with school.”
“Way to go out on top. Your collection was the best one by far.”
“You’re biased, so of course you’d say that.”
Ryder smiled at me. “I’m calling it like I see it.”
“I love the response it got. Of course, it helped that my models were amazing, especially my ballet dancer.”
“He was great, but your gown made the audience gasp even before he did that jump.”
“That felt really good.” I gently rubbed his shoulder and asked, “Should I step out for a bit, so you can get some rest? It’s been a busy day.”
