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It wasn’t like Ricky couldn’t get a date.
He’d dated Nini. Lily. A couple of other girls in his class. He could be charming when he wanted to be. Knew how to play the guitar, sing and all that. And okay, so he was a little dorky sometimes, he could admit it, but maybe it came across as funny or cool at least fifty percent of the time.
So it’s not like he was completely incapable of finding someone.
Except that Nini seemed to think that he was. At least, that’s how it came across when she’d announced to him that she was having a holiday party and he should come ‘if it wasn’t too weird’ since he’d be alone and she’d ‘be with EJ’.
It was awkward enough when your ex barely let the body go cold before finding another boyfriend. But then to give Ricky a pity invite? Basically explain to him in so many words that he was just some sad ex-boyfriend pining from the sidelines of her and EJ’s relationship?
Yeah, no thanks. Dork or not, Ricky had some pride left.
“Ah, well. I actually started dating someone recently, so–”
It just came out. Nini was staring at him like he was some wounded animal. As if finding EJ was proof she’d moved on, that Ricky was standing still. And maybe he was, but he didn’t really feel like being on the receiving end of her hand holding, her softly chosen words.
“Oh,” Nini said, a sprawl of pink tingeing along bronzed cheeks. “Sorry, then. They’re welcome to come.”
“Yeah, sure I’ll uh, I’ll let her know. Yeah, she’s real busy during the holidays – she’s been in all kinds of productions. Dancer, singer, ya know. Anyways, I’ll check with her, so…anyway.”
He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, really didn’t want to stick around to see what Nini made of his incoherent ramblings, or worse, ask him who this person was. Why the hell did he have to give specifics? Details that ruled out most of the damn school? God, Ricky could be such an idiot. Maybe he wasn’t as charming as he thought, and he definitely was not as smart.
He shouldn't be surprised though, his fantastical narrative getting the best of him. When he was six, he told his parents he had a vision that he was meant to be one of Santa’s elves. Insisted that he had to get to the North Pole, wrote letters incessantly requesting to be picked-up for his new job. And just last year, he’d fully believed that if he could just get a patent for his pizza scissors, he could drop out of school and just live off the riches he’d make.
So, yeah – Ricky wasn’t a stranger to living in the clouds of fantasies; he was good at convincing himself of things. Whether it was healthy or not was beside the point. But making up a fictitious date? Jesus. That one was new.
But overactive imagination or not, Ricky could find a real date, damn it – he could. He just wasn’t sure he’d be able to find this singer, dancer extraordinaire within the next couple of weeks.
***
Ricky wasn’t really a big fan of change.
Probably the main reason he’d held onto Nini for so long, even when he knew deep down their paths were diverging. Right as her music had started becoming everything, Ricky had started becoming exactly nothing – yet somehow, everything he didn’t want to be. However the hell that worked.
She’d done the brave thing, committing them to split at that fork in the road. And that was fine, really, he knew that now. He couldn’t even say he was all that upset about EJ, just more so that he couldn’t cling to his romanticized version of what they were anymore.
Because if he didn’t have that, if he didn’t even know what was real or imagined, what exactly did he have?
He was still figuring that out, but nobody else needed to know that. He’d play his music, crack his jokes, flash a beaming smile. And that was all fine, because if people were looking at him, then maybe they wouldn’t look too close. Wouldn’t ask him what he was doing after graduation. Wouldn’t poke holes in his flimsy future.
Anyway, he and Nini’s breakup kind of threw a wrench in his whole scheme not to grow up. And maybe they grew apart because she did – as painful as it was for him to realize that.
But he wasn’t going to dwell on that too long, careful to keep himself from falling off that edge. He had enough problems to deal with. Because despite what he’d told Nini yesterday, he was, indeed, alone.
Big Red was busy navigating the dating field, jumping headfirst into the online realm. He’d been so nervous, but excited as well, to check that he was “interested in women and men” on his profile. And Ricky loved that for him, truly.
There was Carlos. But he mostly knew him through Big Red, and anyway, he and Seb were still connected at the hip, planning their big move to New York after graduation. He couldn’t even really keep up with what Kourtney and Ashlyn were doing these days, but it was definitely more than him.
And the skatepark guys, well – they were the skatepark guys. And that’s precisely what they were there for.
Again, Ricky really was happy for everyone – he was. That was all fine, he was fine – he still had people in his life, he thought, plenty of friends to hang out with. He had his dad, after all.
Good God, he was pathetic.
Alright fine. He needed some change, he’d admit it. As much as he’d resisted it, maybe he needed something to pull himself out of his numb state. Shake up his world.
“Oh good! Gina! You’re here. We made some changes to this scene.”
Ricky didn’t really have a lot of moments in his life that he remembered super clearly, as weird as that sounded. Sometimes, if it was something unpleasant, he’d just bury it completely. But more often, he lived in the clouds. Distorted things until they became some dreamy version in his mind. And sometimes, when reality would hit later, he’d realize that what he’d dramatized was in fact very normal. Ordinary.
But this girl, this Gina, floating across the stage, aglow under the lights, midnight curls pulled into a ponytail, wide-eyed with a beaming smile even from this distance–
Well. She was anything but ordinary. And he was damn sure he was going to remember this moment crystal clear, without one ounce of fabricated romanticism.
It could’ve been five minutes or five seconds then, Ricky couldn’t be sure. But soon enough, Ms. Jenn had motioned Gina to the audience. His eyes never left her, followed along as she walked past the first row, the second, and so on, and so on…until eventually, much to his delayed shock, she’d plopped down right in his row, courteously leaving a seat between them.
Ricky didn’t really belong in the drama auditorium to begin with. Big Red had begged him to play a guitar number that they wanted to add last minute to their musical and he’d agreed, so long as it was just that – that he wouldn’t get roped into doing all kinds of other shit. So Ricky only showed up when he needed to, always sat in the back ‘til it was his turn to play, easily going unnoticed. And it was odd to him, if not nerve-wracking, that she’d found her place in the back too. Because this girl did not seem like the kind of person that went unnoticed anywhere. Ever.
She crossed a lithe leg over the other. A dancer, he was sure, judging by her form in her spandex getup, the way she moved so gracefully, even whilst rooting through her bookbag for a piece of gum.
“Want one?”
“Uh–” It took him a couple beats to realize he’d been staring. Startled actually, that she hadn’t seemed to notice, an eyebrow cocked as she looked at him expectantly, holding out a stick of Juicy Fruit – those bright eyes close enough now to see the gold flecks floating within deep mocha. His throat ran dry as he reached for it, coughing rather stupidly. Was it possible to choke on your own breath?
Oh God. He couldn’t stop now, still gasping for air when she slid into the chair next to him with alarm. “Jesus, you okay?”
He forced himself to nod and stifle the coughing. “Yup,” he croaked, flashing the most confident grin he could given the circumstances. “I’m good.”
“Great,” she breathed out, nodding back. She stood up, about to put the space back between them when he cut in.
“I’ve never seen you around before. I’m Ricky.”
She paused. Looked him up and down for a moment before adjusting back into the chair by him. “Yeah. I just moved here a few weeks ago.” She nodded with a tight smile. “I’m Gina.”
“Ah, cool, cool,” he said dumbly, wondering if he just planned on nodding for the rest of his life, unable to stop the bob of his head.
She stared at him for a few moments before her nose started to crinkle. “Right, well…” She stood up again, and this time when he cut in, she let out a deep sigh before sitting back down.
“So…you’re joining production this late in the game?”
“Miss Jenn said I could try to hop in with the ensemble,” she explained, a bit bitterly, Ricky’d thought. “Maybe even an understudy, depending on how quickly I learn things.”
“Understudy, huh?” he replied without totally knowing what that meant, even less so what that meant to her.
She frowned, crossing her arms. “Well, at least I’m actually in the play.”
“Hey, I’m in the play,” he said lightly with a chuckle.
“Yeah, but you’re not really in drama.”
“And how exactly do you know that?”
“I just do,” she said casually with a shrug. “Anyway. Kinda gives this musical street cred or something.” She smirked, eyeing his backpack adorned with a disobedience patch, his worn Vans. She sprawled out her fingers dramatically, wiggling them like jazz hands. “Ya know, the whole cool outsider thing, whisking in to play the guitar.”
He clocked the sparkle in her eye, the twist of her lips. But before he could process whether she was mocking or complimenting him, Miss Jenn called her up to the stage.
“Just do your best to follow the group, honey,” Miss Jenn said, patting Gina on the arm as she reached the group.
Ricky’d known this girl for all of about fifteen minutes or so, but he could tell that was simultaneously the most offensive and invigorating thing Gina could’ve ever possibly heard. Her eyes ablaze even from the back row, her shoulders square, her fists clenched.
And in about two minutes he figured out why. Because the words keep up were also among the last things you should ever say to Gina. There would be no keeping up because a girl like her ran shit. And even in the back, even weeks behind everyone else on this routine, it was like the spotlight followed her around, a shiny star with never ending legs leaping across the stage.
And by the end of the routine, Ricky was genuinely considering joining drama.
The music died off and the group huddled center stage to bask in the words of encouragement from Ms. Jenn. But as she got toward the end of her speech, all Ricky could do was pray that Gina would come back for her bag first before Big Red found him to leave. Give him another opportunity to be smooth. Or seem like it anyway.
Fifty percent. He could be cool at least half the time. And he would make sure this was one of them.
Everyone started filtering into the seats, hugging, exchanging ideas about where to head after school. Talking about Nini’s party that following weekend.
And it was just a moment then, but Ricky saw it. That bright flame he’d already started to recognize about Gina dimming just slightly, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. A crack in her wall.
She shuffled to the fringes of the group, undetected by the others, before she rushed to the back row. And maybe it was because he was on the fringes himself, or maybe it was for reasons he couldn’t really name, but it was like he could feel something tugging him in her direction.
Even with his little pep talk, his carefully chosen words, his brain went completely blank when she reached him, standing there paralyzed as she grabbed her backpack and turned to go.
“Gina!”
Was that okay? To yell out someone’s name like that who you had just met? For it to feel that good rolling off your tongue?
She whipped around, raising her eyebrows as if she wasn’t sure he really meant her.
“Yeah?”
He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair, suddenly wishing he’d listened when his mother tried to explain how to manage a head of curls. The moment stretched on far too long for someone who’d just called for her attention, rather desperately even. So much for seeming smooth. “You should come to Nini’s holiday party.”
Her eyes found her hands as she toyed with her backpack strap. And when she looked back up to meet his eyes, there was something soft there – just for a second. But just as quickly, she boarded herself back up, chuckling humorlessly. “I wasn’t really invited, so–”
“Well, I’m inviting you.”
He hadn’t even been thinking about what he said to Nini at that exact moment, connecting the dots slowly, as usual. Because he did want to save face, but maybe, more importantly, he wanted to save her face from looking like that. From feeling like she didn’t belong. Ricky knew that feeling all too well, whether he was willing to admit it or not.
She hummed, considering. Quiet for the moments after, looking at him something sideways. And the longer they stood there, the more he thought about the way she’d found herself in the back of the auditorium same as him, unscalable ten-foot walls and all. The way she left space between them. The way she was scrutinizing his offer.
Somehow, it just felt like if he didn’t tell her everything now, it was going to be very, very, bad later. And even though he just met her, he didn’t particularly want that.
“Alright so, I kinda need to tell you something else.” There’s a pinch in his chest, wondering how he can make this more palatable, deciding in the next beat the only choice was to keep it light and humorous. “Hear me out though, because I think it’ll be good for both of us.”
She scrunched her face. “What’s that mean?” she said a bit accusingly as she adjusted her backpack and glanced at the exit as if she had half a mind to run. Like she was able to read everything he was about to say in his expression, she added defensively, “I don’t do well with liars.”
He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Ah well. It’s not really a lie if you agree to come with me.”
“What’s not a lie?” she probed, narrowing her eyes.
“Just…ya know. Nini and I used to go out. And I kinda maybe told her I had a date for this party. And you fit the description.”
She crossed her arms, glaring at him. “There’s so many things wrong with that sentence, do you even–”
“I just meant–” he interjected, trying to salvage the moment, “I really want you to come. It would be fun. And you could meet people, make new friends.” He waved to the group at the front of the auditorium. “It’s like…mutually beneficial or whatever.”
She cocked her head and raised her eyebrow suspiciously. “And how exactly do I know that won’t make my social status plummet?”
He scoffed. “Excuse me? You called me cool and–”
“I did not call you cool!”
“Uh-huh, you did. You said, and I quote, ‘a cool outsider,’ so–”
“Outsider, maybe. I don’t remember the cool part.”
He waved his hand. “Okay, well whatever.”
She was quiet for some time, pursing her lips as she mulled it over before she frowned. “I don’t know, it sounds…vengeful. And I’m not acting shitty to your ex or whatever, I–”
“No, no, trust me,” he said, holding up his hands in defense. “Nini and I are fine. She’s dating someone else. And I’m good with it, really. I just…I don’t know, it was kinda–”
“Embarrassing?”
“Yeah, thanks,” he said through an awkward chuckle, shooting her finger guns. “That’s the one.”
“If I went–” His eyes widened, and she cut back in quickly. “I said, if I went…it would strictly be the mutually beneficial thing. For me to meet people. To save your little bruised ego or whatever.”
“Hey now–”
“And this better not be some scheme to try and hook up. I’m not gonna like, kiss you or–”
“Pfft, no, ‘c'mon,” he said with a wave of his hand. She crossed her arms with a pointed glare. And he wasn’t sure what was worse – him continuing to accidentally insult her, or if she were to hear what he was actually thinking. “I just meant, I’d never presume something like that.”
Someone broke out into laughter at the other end of the auditorium, the tight-knit group still alive with chatter. Gina glanced over from their perch on the outside as she contemplated, continually rolling the bottom of her coat between her fingers.
When she turned back to face him with a deep suffering sigh, Ricky tried very hard not to pump his fist in the air forcing himself into that cool persona he swore she let slip.
“I didn’t say yes.” She rolled her eyes, walking to the exit as she called over her shoulder. “We’ll see.”
***
Since Ricky only had the one song in the musical, he didn’t have to stick around rehearsals much.
After all, he wasn’t really in drama club, as Gina pointed out within minutes of meeting him. So he didn’t have any reason to hang around there all the time.
And he really hoped no one noticed that, least of all her.
“Don’t you have something better to do? We aren’t getting to your number for hours still.”
Damn it.
“Ah, well. Ya know. Gotta get in the mood,” he said, clicking his tongue. “Go method and all that.”
“I think that’s more applicable to the acting part,” Gina said with a skeptical cock of her eyebrow.
“Welp, call me a trendsetter then, I guess.”
There was a moment then when she looked him up and down, stone-faced. But in the next, she cracked a smile and there it was – another crack in her wall. Shaking her head at him like he was an idiot.
But an idiot she was smiling at nonetheless.
She never questioned his presence there again after that first day. They’d spent a lot of that rehearsal in some kind of comfortable quiet, save for cackling at Miss Jenn’s quirks or shooting each other wide eyes when Carlos called anyone out.
But the next day, there was no seat between them. She settled right in next to him and handed him a piece of Juicy Fruit without a word. And eventually, the comfortable quiet became comfortable conversation. Why she moved to Salt Lake, why she moved everywhere. How she couldn’t tell her mom how hard it had been. Why Ricky hated holidays, namely because he had to choose between his parents – how hard that’d been on him too.
He’d never told anyone that before. Not even himself.
And by the start of the next week, they were practically conducting their own rehearsals. Him helping her run her lines and memorize choreography. Her sitting through countless of his performances, telling him exactly what he needed to fix.
He couldn’t ever seem to find anything she needed to improve upon though.
He wondered then if he was starting to make something up in his mind again. The stolen glances, the soft scarlet that would sprawl across her cheeks.
And even with that growing comfort, he still choked on his own oxygen, still stumbled like an idiot. By that point, he was permanently ablaze even in the dead of winter, just having her skin resting along his on the seat armrest.
It was part of that whole romanticizing thing, he thought. Because how else could he be feeling like this about someone he just met? And aside from that, in what world would he ever actually be able to date a girl like Gina – not without the scheme he’d already let her in on.
It dawned on him then, that the party was tomorrow, and she still hadn’t actually answered him. And if she said ‘no’, he was going to have to fess up to his lie. That, or make up a new one.
Maybe he should try to ask someone else, he’d thought. Find someone to bring to this party so he could hold onto that foolish pride just a little bit longer. Have a backup plan.
But then he recalled the last couple weeks. How he’d told her more than he’d ever told anyone, including himself. How she seemed to be able to read him instantly and him her, in a way that was exhilarating, if not exposing.
But in a good way.
How he felt even from the first second she lit up on stage.
And then he thought no–
No. It was Gina or it was nobody.
***
Ricky didn’t really know if it was pity, or boredom, or just simply that whole mutually beneficial thing he spouted off about.
Even if part of him thought maybe, just maybe, Gina had thought about the last couple weeks the same way he did. Because she did agree to go after all – said it so very cool and casual.
Simply looked at him with a shimmering smile and a ‘yes.’ And he knew exactly what she meant.
But whatever her reasons, he was going out with Gina Porter tonight. And suddenly, he was glad he word vomited to Nini about having a date.
Especially now.
“Jesus,” he muttered, wondering if he was ever going to learn to breathe properly being around this girl. “Um,” he said louder, clearing his throat, “you look great.”
She frowned at him suspiciously, but he caught it – the corner of her mouth tugging up before she turned to grab her jacket from behind the door. “Bye mom! My ride’s here!”
On instinct, he placed a hand on her arm, trying to help her down the steps blanketed with snow. But when she shot him a look he couldn’t quite read, he helped her the rest of the way, then promptly let go. He didn’t really know how to act, seeing that as far as he was aware, this was still a fake date to Gina, nothing more – even if his overactive imagination was at work again, trying to tell him otherwise.
Wondering how in this brief time she’d already stomped through the paper wall he’d effectively passed off as solid all school year. Already pegged practically every single thing about him. Had him sitting in the palm of her hand with a stick of Juicy Fruit and a red velvet dress.
It was revealing really, if not a little embarrassing.
Even more embarrassing that some part of him wanted to believe this was an actual date.
And just when he thought he couldn’t be any more embarrassing, there’s an unfortunately familiar turning of the engine after they settle into the car.
Over and over.
“She just needs a minute sometimes.” He chuckled awkwardly as he cranked the key a few more times.
It was Gina’s turn now to touch his arm, his eyes darting to meet hers. “Ricky.” She laughed lightly. “It’s not turning on. Let me see if my mom will drive us.”
He was in a horrified induced stupor at the moment, unable to stop her from rushing back to her house, already starting to panic at the thought of her mom having to drive them because of his dad’s piece of shit car. A whole eighteen-year-old, an adult in the eyes of the law, and he still had to have somebody’s mother drive him to a party.
Gina popped back into view, motioning him to come out of the car as a woman followed her out the front door. Taller and older, but just as striking with cinnamon smooth skin and dark curls – pulling on a winter coat as she peered suspiciously down the drive.
Ricky took a moment to compose himself, even his breath, maybe even muttered a few words of affirmation in the silence of the car. But by the time he clambered up the driveway, he painted on the brightest smile he could, holding out a hand to introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m Ricky. I’m so sorry about all this trouble.”
“It’s no trouble,” Ms. Porter said flatly with an unreadable expression, taking in his image.
“Well. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience anyway.”
She nodded, still not giving anything away, her face wiped blank just the way Gina could. “So you’re Ricky, huh? From drama?”
“Mom.” Gina chuckled nervously. “It’s cold, can we just….” She motioned to the car, but Ms. Porter kept her gaze fixed on Ricky.
“That’s me – in the flesh,” he joked – feeling a little rush that Gina had mentioned him.
“Gina says you’ve been helping her learn her lines.”
“Oh, it’s all her. She’s amazing really, she’s–” Ricky cut himself off, suddenly aware of their blank stares. He cleared his throat. Offered another smile.
And it looked like the corner of Ms. Porter’s mouth curled up in response. He couldn’t be sure. “How long have you been driving, Ricky?”
“Two years and counting, ma’am. Failed the parallel parking part, but I guess they’ll give a license to anybody these days.”
He’d been on a roll, but that lil’ bit rolled a bit too far, considering he’d just had Gina in his car. He stopped breathing after that, hoping it would help him stop talking. But before he could come up with something to cover up his idiocy, Ms. Porter let out a light laugh and Gina looked at her like she had no idea who in the hell this person claiming to be her mother was.
Ms. Porter reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her car keys. “Why don’t you just drive the car? Let me go back inside where it’s warm.”
“Oh, well–”
“Mom–”
“It’s fine, honey,” she said, waving a dismissive hand toward Gina as she handed Ricky the keys.
He clasped them in his hand with a grave nod. “I’ll be really careful. Promise. Hopefully, we don’t have a parallel parking situation.”
Ms. Porter shook her head with another light laugh, walking toward the house. “Be back by midnight, you two,” she called over her shoulder.
Ricky met Gina’s eyes with a shrug and a grin. “Well? Shall we?”
Gina shrugged back, still looking utterly thrown. He opened the passenger’s door for her before rushing to the driver’s seat, promptly turning on the heat.
He backed out of the driveway, more careful than he was for any of that driver’s test he almost failed, sure to keep his hands steady on ten and two as they started making their way down the road. It was quiet for some time until Gina let out a breathy chuckle, shaking her head.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She paused, looking over to him, lips parted in disbelief. “It’s just…my mom doesn’t like anybody. Ever.” She shook her head again with a dazed half smile. “I actually can’t believe she’s letting you drive her car. She won’t even let me drive her car to practice for the driving test.”
He laughed, shrugging. He wasn’t sure what any of that meant, but it was a good thing he thought – the way she was smiling at him, making his stomach somersault, over and over.
The quiet stretched on again for some time, her eyes still trained on him before she shifted her gaze to the road ahead. “So let’s lay down some ground rules.”
“Ground rules?”
“Yeah…like. Ya know. We’re supposed to be dating or whatever, so we gotta kinda seem like it.”
“Right,” he said through a spike of anxiety, doing his best in the next moment to take it down. “Well, you already said you weren’t gonna kiss me so–”
“Still not.”
“You made your point.”
“Even so,” she laughed, “it has to be believable.”
Well, it was already pretty much unbelievable, he thought, stealing a glance at her candy red lips, the delicate curve of her neck, the lace laid against her collarbone. Ricky’s self-delusions were pretty powerful, but even he knew a girl like that didn’t belong with a skate rat like himself.
“Okay, well…what’s that mean?” He figured it was best to let her take the reins on this one, since it was probably pretty obvious by this point he’d be willing to do whatever she’d let him.
“Well–” She shrugged as he stopped at the red light, keeping her eyes fixed ahead when she continued. “You can like, you know, put your arm around me. Hold my hand. Something like that.”
He hummed in agreement, thinking if he said anything more it would probably come out sounding all squeaky like some pre-pubescent boy. But after a few moments, he took a deep breath, gathering himself. “Sounds fair. But you might get the urge to kiss me, then–”
“I won’t,” she said firmly, shoving him in the shoulder.
“I’m just sayin’-”
“Ricky.”
It went on like that for some time, easy laughs and soft touches. But every once in a while, she’d throw in another rule, reminding him of what this all was, even as a little smile played on her lips.
His heart dropped when he pulled up to the curb at Nini’s house, disappointed to lose their little world in the car. But another, admittedly juvenile part of himself was excited to act like a couple with her tonight. And it was dawning on him that it had absolutely nothing to do with Nini.
He rushed to open her door, and as they approached the house, he beamed when she linked her arm in his. So radiant in red – the soft velvet of her dress, the rosy hue swept over her bronzed cheeks and the bow of her lips alike.
“Ricky!” Nini exclaimed, warmth swirling into the winter chill along with music and chatter as she threw open the door. She took a moment to register the image before her, looking between them with a forced smile to mask…well, whatever she was masking, he couldn’t be sure. “And Gina! Please, come in.”
“Thank you for having us,” Gina interjected quickly into the awkwardness.
“Oh, of course. Any friend of Ricky’s…” Nini trailed off, painting on a smile. She breathed out an audible sigh of relief when EJ materialized, wrapping an arm around her.
“Oh hey guys.” EJ’s smirk reached his eyes, a sparkle of bright blue-green darting between Ricky and Gina. “Didn’t know you two were a thing.”
“Yeah, it’s…well–” Ricky found himself tongue-tied, while unable to stop his next words all at once. “It’s kinda unbelievable,” he finished, glancing over to Gina. She lowered her face, concealing a small smile as she tucked a curl behind her ear.
“Well,” Nini said rather stiffly, waving an arm to the party behind them. “Help yourself to snacks. Some of us are playing games in the other room. There’s a bonfire outside. So…yeah.”
After Nini and EJ returned to the party, Ricky didn’t really pay much attention to whatever Nini had motioned to, his eyes trained on Gina as she removed her coat. How she stood on her toes, lifting her arms with all the grace of a ballerina, hanging it on the hook.
But when she turned back around, surveying the crowd, a line formed between her forehead, her eyes widening with a flash of alarm.
“Ricky–” She gripped his arm with an overly sweet smile, speaking through clenched teeth. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me it was an ugly Christmas sweater party?”
“Huh? I–” He followed her gaze to the crowd, his heart stopping with horror as he took in all the pom pom reindeer noses, the kindergarten teacher snowman vests. In his rush to make up a fake girlfriend, he must’ve glazed over during those details. “Um, I,” he stammered, “because I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I…I just missed that part.”
He felt bad, recognizing what he saw underneath it all in the auditorium, that worry about not fitting in. And she didn’t. He just didn’t happen to think that was a bad thing.
Not a bad thing at all – not how she stood so tall and statuesque, silken fabric draped over her like a goddess, brilliant like a diamond sharply in focus against the muted blur of sweaters.
“Hey,” he said, gesturing to his outfit. “I’m not wearing one either.”
“You sure about that?” She scowled, eyeing the loud patterns knitted in his sweater.
He laughed, throwing an arm around her, raising his eyebrows to confirm her rules. “Alright, I deserved that.” He squeezed her arm reassuringly. “But it’s okay – we’re in it together.”
She rolled her eyes, but she leaned into him in response. “Okay. Together.” She smirked, lowering her voice dramatically. “Even if it’s ‘unbelievable.’”
He shot her a glare, but they both knew he had no defense. He forced himself to hold her stare, not to shy away, even as he felt the heat rising through the tips of his ears, the smile he couldn’t conceal. And she held his gaze all the same, some kind of challenge unfurling in the curve of her lips – to what, he couldn’t be sure.
Kourtney called out then, breaking the spell, waving them over to the kitchen where drinks were being mixed.
“I can make you a rum and coke or a rum and diet coke,” Carlos said cheerily holding up a liquor bottle.
“Oh, no, no.” Ricky threw his hand up. “I’m driving.”
“My mom’s car no less,” Gina said with a laugh. She turned to Carlos with a mischievous grin. “I’ll have the rum and coke. Hold the diet.”
Ricky tossed her a small smile, happy she was mingling, but hoping it was just going to be the one. He didn’t really feel like bringing her home drunk after her mom placed any kind of trust in him, but he also already knew better than to try to tell Gina what to do.
Someone broke out cards and it was mostly a blur after that, caught in the whirlwind of Gina Porter. Squealing and throwing her arms around his neck when they’d win a hand, her arm linked in his as they waited their turn. Her teasing and shoulder bumps when he’d mess up. And even though he was the only one in the circle who didn’t have a rum and coke in hand, he was sure he was the most faded one there, completely drunk off her affection.
There was an arm slung around his shoulders then as Big Red shoved his way into the kitchen. “Ricky! You made it, man.”
He glanced at Gina, then back to Ricky with a wily grin, his freckle splashed cheeks flushed with one of Carlos’ creations. Ricky widened his eyes at him, willing him not to let anything slip about their ruse he’d stupidly let him in on.
“So,” Big Red said, still smiling ear to ear, “how’d you two meet?”
Oh, this guy. Ricky made a mental note to upload that picture he’d been reserving for blackmail to Big Red’s dating profile later.
In his and Gina’s little chat about ground rules, they didn’t get any kind of story straight regarding their supposed relationship. He elbowed Big Red covertly in the side, hoping he’d just shut up when Gina started speaking.
“Well, I was new, of course. To school, to drama. Ricky and I just kinda started talking.”
She glanced over to him with a cheeky wink and he felt a rush of confidence. “Yeah,” he chimed in, “Gina helped me rehearse. And well,” he laughed with a shrug, “I attempted to help her rehearse too.”
“You did help me,” she said gazing up at him.
There was the stomach flipping again as he realized that what they said wasn’t exactly made up; in fact, it was very much the truth. It all felt real then – their conversations, their support through rehearsals. Even in the silence, the way they’d lean on each other, their arms pressed together warmly in the auditorium seats.
He laced his fingers with hers – she said he could do that after all. Ran his thumb softly along the back of her hand as she held his gaze, something melting in honey gold that didn’t feel even the tiniest bit fake.
“Wow,” Big Red said quietly, the humor evaporated for the moment as he raised his eyebrows. “Seems like you two have really been there for one another.”
“Yeah,” Ricky said with his eyes still focused on Gina, feeling the words tumble out of his own accord. “We kinda seem to do that for each other.”
He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, locked in a gaze, seemingly unaware of where they were and what exactly the task at hand was until a piece of greenery was shoved between their faces, an overly peppy Carlos on the other end of it.
“Your turn!”
Carlos stood there expectantly as Ricky processed what was in front of them, the bushel of mistletoe swinging directly above them like a ticking clock. And as the moments passed, he tried to summon that quick wit he’d claimed to have, find a way out of this, regardless of how they were holding on to each other just now.
The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable, cross that line she’d so carefully drawn – I’m not kissing you. But as he turned to her, still stumbling and uncertain, she was already looking at him, something calm and resolute. And before he could even begin to follow, she was leaning in, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.
He tried to explain it away, to tell himself it was to get them off their backs, to keep the facade up – she’d said it after all, going method is for acting. He wondered if this was what she meant, if she was using her talents even now, because damn if this whole night wasn’t starting to feel real to him.
So real, in fact, that he was having trouble breathing again, swallowed in the flames of her kiss, his skin burning where she’d made her mark. And when she flitted to the dance off breaking out in the living room, he found his moment to flee to the balcony to catch his breath, to attempt to stifle the wildfire in the winter wind.
He probably shouldn’t have argued with her over how cool he was, because this was definitely not cool – to spin out this bad over a damn kiss to the cheek, dazed even now with the ghost of her lips still there. Ricky wasn’t even a smoker, but for a moment he wished he was at the skatepark so he could bum a cigarette and calm his nerves.
But he wasn’t. And it was kinda odd, he thought, that he didn’t feel so much like an outsider there, even if he’d come with another outsider. Even if they were acting out a play themselves.
A bit heavy, he’d thought, to feel this way about someone he was on a fake date with. For feeling like he belonged with her.
Before he could figure out what that meant along with who in that house would be most likely to have a smoke on them, heels were clacking over the stone, brown hair missing a certain bounce fanning over the railing in his peripheral vision.
“Your girlfriend’s quite the dancer.”
Ricky cocked an eyebrow, confused for a split second before he caught up. “Yeah, she is.” He laughed. “I bet she’s kicking everyone’s ass in there, huh? Probably spinning circles without even trying. She’s just so–”
He cut himself off when he glanced over to Nini, blinking at him. He snapped his mouth shut, his lips pressed in a tight-lined smile before he looked straight ahead.
After a few beats of silence, he could feel her eyes on him as she leaned in. “You got something there,” she said, motioning awkwardly to his face.
“Oh,” he said softly, the image of plush, candy red lips flashing as he wiped a hand over his cheek.
They’re silent for some time, gazing out at the forestry ahead, the breeze sending tendrils of her hair across his forearm where his sleeve was rolled up. He glanced down for a moment, marveling as the strands grazed over his skin, wondering when that happened – when it all disappeared. Just the faintest recognition left, no shiver in sight, even outside in a Salt Lake winter with no coat.
“I’m glad you came tonight, Ricky,” she interjected in his thoughts. “I was worried we…well. I’m just glad.”
“Me too,” he said honestly.
Nini nodded with a smile. Pursed her lips like she wanted to say something else. And after a few moments, she seemed to make her decision.
“Was it hard for you?” She shrugged, her cheeks pinkening. “You know…seeing me with EJ?”
Before he’d had a chance to follow her segue and find his words, she was jumping back in, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, that was stupid. I don’t know why–”
“Well, yeah, it was hard,” he cut in with a wave of his hand. “At first.”
She nodded, darted her eyes back out to the distance ahead. “I’m sorry then,” she said quietly, “if I hurt your feelings. I don’t think I realized how it felt until now…ya know, you and Gina.”
He didn't really know what to say to that, knowing what she meant, but also feeling far from that place at the moment.
She chuckled, scrubbing a hand down her face. “That sounds really selfish, huh?”
“Maybe a little,” he said with a shrug. She snapped her head to meet his eyes, stunned until she registered his grin. She returned his smile and they broke into a light laugh before Ricky turned solemn. “But it also sounds like maybe you’re just human.”
She nodded, squeezed his arm like she was grateful. And he was too, for this moment, for recognizing what he’d always heard people describe. Something a little sad, that felt a little like goodbye. But something that felt okay too. Like he wasn’t standing still anymore.
“And for what it’s worth,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I think you were on to something about moving on, ya know?”
She nodded, searching his eyes. Smiled something genuine and real. “You seem happy with Gina.”
“Yeah,” he said breathlessly, feeling warmth flush across his face. “I am.”
He felt kinda bad that Nini didn’t know the truth, but then he realized it wasn’t a lie either. And the way she was looking at him now, something sad and regretful in her eyes, but happy for him all the same, he could tell she clocked it – that same thing he’d felt just a moment ago. She parted her lips to speak, but her words were carried away in a gust of air, a flash of red in his line of vision as the door opened.
“Oh, sorry, I–”
“No, no, it’s okay Gina. I was just leaving,” Nini said awkwardly, tossing Ricky a nod before she walked toward the party.
Gina’s eyes darted between Nini and Ricky as Nini passed by. And after she disappeared behind the door, Gina took her place beside Ricky at the balcony railing, a shiver with the strength of a lightning bolt shooting straight through him as her arm pressed against his. He looked over to her, a cascade of curls loosened out of her bun falling across her rum blush face, a sheen of sweat across her forehead.
“I’m guessing you won,” he said, bumping his shoulder to hers.
She shrugged casually in confirmation. He let out a light chuckle, and even though she returned his laugh, there was something different there – the warmth under the mistletoe replaced with some kind of chillier reality.
“Yeah well, winning took a lot out of me,” she said, trying to joke though her words carried an edge that wasn’t there before, her eyes darting toward the door. “I’m kinda tired now. Are you okay if we go?”
“Yeah, of course. Whatever you want,” he said, motioning for her to walk ahead, still thrown at the shift.
They said their goodbyes, and as they headed for the door, he opted not to put his arm around her, something a little stiffer in her stance, a little more wooden about her smile.
During the whole drive it was quiet, their light banter replaced with heavy silence. And as he ruminated on how he could fix it, he couldn’t help but wonder which part of the evening was fake – scared him, actually, to think that maybe it was the first part. Then again, he’d set it all up as a ruse to begin with; there weren’t supposed to be any stakes here.
So why did he feel like he was royally fucking this all up?
As he made the last turn on her street, he still hadn’t settled on what to say or do. And when he shifted the car in park, he found himself looking at her with what he was positive was the dumbest expression he’d ever worn in his life.
“Welp,” she said, not missing a beat in the silence, reaching for the door handle. “Thank you.”
“I had a nice time tonight,” he blurted, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate.
She let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah. Well, I think everyone bought it anyway.”
“Oh.” He didn’t mean for it to come out so soft, so disappointed. “Sorry about the whole car situation…the sweater thing…” He trailed off lamely with a wave of his hand.
“Yeah, tonight was kind of a disaster, huh?”
He couldn’t help it then, the way he winced. That wasn’t really the wording he would’ve chosen to describe it – then again, he wasn’t sure how he’d describe it at all. But fake date wasn’t it.
“Well, hey,” she continued, attempting a little more chipper tone. “Ashlyn invited me for pizza with the crew next week after rehearsal, so…I guess you could say it worked.”
“Yeah, that’s good. I’m glad.”
“How ‘bout you?” She cleared her throat. “Did you uh…did it work? I mean whatever you were trying to do.”
He shrugged, the words escaping before he measured them. “I wasn’t really trying to do anything.”
She didn’t answer that directly, washing herself expressionless. She nodded curtly with a wave towards her house. “Right, well. I’ll get my mom to drop you off.”
“No, no,” he said, shaking his head, already embarrassed enough at the situation. “I already set up a Lyft.”
“Okay,” she said with a tight smile. “Well. I’ll see you at rehearsal.”
Before she could fully step out of the car, he rushed outside, slipping on the ice, righting himself with an “I’m okay!” as he made his way to open the passenger’s door.
And for a split second, she busted out a laugh, that you’re an idiot look right back where it was before. But in the next moment it was gone, the plastic smile back as he walked her awkwardly to the front door.
On his ride home, he cranked the window, despite the winter chill – searching for his breath. He replayed the night over and over in his mind, trying to figure out what happened – how he could’ve gone from so high to so low.
Wondering, as an ache split through his chest, how he could feel this bad about the end of a date that wasn’t even a date to begin with.
***
A few weeks after Nini’s party, Ricky had convinced himself he did it again.
Dreamt up some fantasized version of him and Gina, made up any reciprocation on her end simply because it was what he wished to see. He might as well have been packing up for the North Pole again, his delusions about what was meant to be still alive and well from the age of six.
It had to have been because in an instant, it was all gone. And it definitely wasn’t one of those times where something ordinary was in its place. No, in fact, it was quite the opposite. Vibrant images of the time they’d connected still left in the wake, bursting with color – all the more reminding him of what he’d lost. How dull everything was without her.
But still. He had to have made up her side of things. Because whatever place she was in then, she was definitely not there now.
No, she was in some other place, far, far away from the back of the auditorium. And he was happy for her, really. Sitting in the front row with the other theater kids, the chair next to him cold and empty, no Juicy Fruit or easy laughs in sight.
It was stupid, really, because it worked, hadn’t it? Hadn’t he promised her going to this party would help her make friends? And clearly, it did. So there was nothing more to do about it.
His time was up now. His song done and over with. And he felt stupid to feel this low over something spoiling that had an expiration date from the start. Over someone that really, he hadn’t known long – even if a familiarity swirling in mocha and her lips grazing across his cheek told him otherwise.
After a few days of staring at her empty seat, he stopped coming to rehearsal when it wasn’t necessary, showing up for his number only then bolting. And on this day, he was about to exit the auditorium when a ripple of gasps and shrieks echoed through the space, Ashlyn flying down the aisle past him with her hand over her mouth as a trail of vomit followed.
“People, people!” Miss Jenn called out with a loud clap of her hands. “Eyes up here! Nothing to see!”
There was a low murmur pulsing through the crowd, whispers and worries about what was going to happen with opening night looming over them that weekend with their lead incapacitated.
Miss Jenn was quiet for a moment, her eyes flashing in alarm as she surveyed the crowd, trying to gain composure. She clenches her fists, her lips pursed tight before she turns to Gina with renewed determination. “Gina!”
Gina looked up, eyes wide. “Yeah?”
“Are you ready?” Miss Jenn said with an encouraging nod. “If Ashlyn doesn’t recover by opening night?”
Gina took a moment to gather her thoughts, to absorb all the eyes trained on her. But then she rolled her shoulders back, her jaw set, eyes ablaze. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I am.”
A cheer broke through the crowd as everyone clamored around Gina. And she was cheering right back, but amidst her excitement, he caught that other thing too. The same thing he’d caught all the other times when no one else was looking. The repetitive rolling of the script in her hands, the chewing of her bottom lip. Her characteristic bright eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly with uncertainty.
So he stayed. Despite the vomit smell and the fact that Gina hadn’t been sitting in the back row with him for weeks now. Because somehow, he knew he was the only one that saw it. That this was what they did for each other, sitting together or not.
And as difficult as the past few weeks had been, that hadn’t changed whatever shifted inside of him, no longer afraid of whatever lay ahead on his path. Even if he didn’t know exactly what it was yet, he felt strong enough to find out.
The chaos started to die down, everyone sidestepping the vomit as they made their way to the exits. He meandered up a few rows to where Gina was, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.
“Hey,” he said, shooting her a small smile when she glanced up at him with surprise. “Congratulations.” He chuckled nervously. “I don’t know if that’s weird to say because Ashlyn’s sick and all, but….anyway.”
She smiled, a light laugh escaping. “I know what you mean. And thanks.”
“Well, hey,” he said with an uptick in his tone, the next words flowing out quicker than Ashlyn’s vomit. “I remember all those lines like the back of my hand if you wanna practice.”
“Really?” she said softly, that spark back in her eyes, bright as ever.
“Yeah, of course.” He wondered then how she could possibly not know it. That he would drop anything simply because she asked – do anything to get back those first weeks with her.
She accepted, and almost instantly, they were them again – the part of them that was real. Or maybe it was all real, at least it felt that way over the next couple of days. Held gazes. Arms linked and bright smiles. Leaning on each other - in the auditorium seats or otherwise. He recognized it confidently now, that thing they did for each other, the thing that no one else could – look at each other without one word spoken out loud and be seen, be heard. Be known.
On opening night, Ricky hadn’t seen much of Gina. She was busy in costuming and makeup, smack in the middle of the whirlwind of stepping into one of the lead roles at the last minute. Still, he watched when he could, marveling from the shadows. His heart thumping double time, amazed and in awe of her, the spotlight still following her around the same way it did that very first day she’d leaped across the stage.
And when his scene came up, he felt more relaxed than he had in a long time. Something about her stepping into that role so seamlessly made him feel brave, like he really was part of this thing – drama kid or not. Like even though he was in a musical, he no longer had to put on a production.
He starts the song bold, assured, strumming as the words flowed effortlessly thanks to Gina – anything and everything always made better with her. Still, even with that ease, he gazed across the sea of eyes, waiting for a pair to recognize.
And there they are, to stage left behind the curtain. Wide with wonder, mocha and misty through silken lashes, even from this distance. A stolen glance they couldn’t hold long, but just long enough. A beaming smile right as he crooned nobody else but the two of us here. A nod and a wink that sang along with him – it’s just you and me.
Ricky didn’t remember a lot after that, riding the high of the performance, watching Gina flawlessly close out the show. Still feeling her eyes on him even now, long after the curtain had closed, that familiar burn showing no signs of snuffing out.
After the last round of bows, there was a group huddle, words of affirmation and tears shared among them. And there was Gina, in the middle of it all, just as she should be – that brilliant diamond never to go unnoticed. He knew it then just as well as he knew it now.
Even if he was on the outside of that, he couldn’t stop the fluttering in his chest, the happiness he felt for her. And maybe his idiotic attempt to take her on a date, real or otherwise, helped in some minuscule way. But really, it was all her, he knew. It was only a matter of time before everyone else saw what was shining under the spotlight.
After he changed back into his hoodie and skate shoes, he headed for the car, not wanting to interrupt her special evening. She deserved to be basking in the glory of her moment and he didn’t need to be burdening her with what he was positive would be impossible to hide right now.
He was in the middle of contemplating whether he’d have to splash hot water over his handle to get it to open, shivering through the frigid air, when a gust of warmth reached him – a soft touch to his arm.
“Hey, where you goin’?”
“Oh, I just – home, I guess,” he said lamely, flustered at Gina’s sudden appearance. Shivering without a coat, still in her costume as if she’d run outside without a second thought.
“You aren’t coming to the after party?”
He grinned with a click of his tongue. “Well, not really a drama kid, remember? I don’t think I’m invited.”
“Well, I’m inviting you,” she said with a coy smile. “Anyway, you’re just as much a part of the show as any of us.” She paused, her next words even and solemn. “I’m proud of you, Ricky.”
“Me?” he said incredulously, even as a burst of warmth flooded through. “C’mon, Gina. I’m so proud of you, you killed that. I mean it, you’re amazing.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes finding her hands before they flitted back up to meet his. “Well,” she motioned to the car. “Shall we?”
When he reached down to try the handle again, it worked – everything clicking into place as the lock released, the door flying open.
Before she could reach her side of the car, he scrambled to beat her, slipping again as he grabbed the hood with a laugh, that same look ablaze in her eyes from their “date”. Only this time, the embers didn’t die down, still glowing with warmth as he climbed back into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine.
“Hang on,” she said, touching his arm before he could put the car in reverse.
He turned to her, the wildfire spreading by the moment holding her gaze. Eyes open and trusting as she clasped her hand over his.
Of all the fantasies he’d conjured up in his life, he thought this might be the wildest one yet.
Gina leaning in, brushing her lips to his, a scorch burning right through him from just the featherlight touch.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, dazed, trying to fish out some words swimming in his waterlogged brain. And without any rational thought, all he came up with was a whispered, “I thought you said you weren’t gonna kiss me.”
She broke into a grin with a shake of her head. “I said I wasn’t gonna kiss you on our fake date.” She dropped her gaze, a curve playing on the side of her mouth. “Are you faking it now, Ricky?”
“No,” he answered quickly, resolutely, thinking that she probably saw his truth the moment she asked him anyway. And how she was looking at him now, a burn of confidence rushed through, unable to contain his wide smile. “I don’t think I ever was.”
He placed his hand on her cheek, so gently, as if to ask if it was real to her too. She answered by pressing her forehead to his, a smile shared between them before he was the one leaning in, emboldened.
And then her lips were back on his, satin smooth and sweet, impossibly warm like that trail of fire that always seemed to follow her. Her fingers like the lick of flames tangled in his hair, pulling him in closer, deeper. And he draws her in just the same, reveling in touching the curve of her shoulder, the line of her neck he’d been admiring since the moment she found him on the fringes.
When they took a breath, she rested her head on his shoulder, her face falling along his neck as her lips grazed his racing pulse. They were quiet for some time then, watching the snow blanket across the windshield like a blank canvas, everything on the outside disappearing. Cradled in each other’s arms and the words he sang alike – it can be us and only us.
She shivered and he ran a hand down her arm, covered only in thin chiffon. “You okay? Do you want me to run back in and get your coat?” he said quietly. “They say there might be a blizzard. Might get kinda scary out there.”
She hummed, quiet for a time before she spoke to his chest. “Who knows what’s gonna happen out there,” she whispered, nestling in a little closer to his warmth. “But, I think I’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” Ricky said through a breathless laugh, resting his face in her hair as he watched the snow white out the world. “I think I’ll be okay too.”