Sophomore Switch(26)
Author: Abby McDonald

“So you see, it’s no time at all.”

As we gather our things, I make mental notes of these new rules. Casual. Dating. Non-exclusive.

“So you want to get a frappe?” Morgan pushes her oversize sunglasses on.

“I could totally go for a mocha.” Lexi does the same.

“I can’t, I’ve got . . .” I catch sight of the time again. “Oh no, I’m late! I was supposed to meet my film group half an hour ago!”

“Chill, it’s only a project.” Morgan shakes her head at me. “Seriously, you need to lose this stress. It’s not good for you.”

I take a breath. “I know.” I knew so much that I was willing to make myself over as Beach Barbie in order to hopefully gain some perspective.

“So a frappe, then.” Linking her arm through mine, Morgan steers me onto the bright sunlit pavement. “And then you can go to your project and report back how Ryan’s doing. I bet he’s a mess.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Ryan regards me with narrowed dark eyes when I finally turn up, two hours late.

“What do you mean?” I twist a piece of my newly blond hair around a perfect nail and wait for some reaction to the change of style. But Ryan just hoists the camera case onto his shoulder and begins walking toward the car park.

“You ditched our first meeting yesterday.”

“Sorry.” I look around, wondering how much I’ve missed. “I thought you could handle it.” Plus the little fact I was deep in rom-com wallowing after the party.

“Yeah, well, you were the one who insisted on it in the first place.” Ryan picks up speed so I have to hurry after him. “It was a total waste of time.”

I ignore his tone. “How far along are we today?”

“Nowhere. People only just started showing up.”

I brace myself. All right, two hours behind schedule isn’t terrible. And at least they haven’t done anything wrong in my absence that would require repeating. “So what are we doing outside? The car-park shots weren’t down until next week.”

“I changed the timetable.”

“You what?” I can’t help myself screeching. That schedule was a work of art: logical, neat, and with plenty of space for contingencies. It took me five drafts before I had it perfect.

Ryan shrugs. “These things happen. I figured we’d be better starting with the establishing shots — let the actors have some time with the script. This way, the camera guys get to grips with the tech side. And since you were late . . .”

I take a breath. Remember: you are a calm, go-with-the-flow kind of girl now.

“OK,” I agree slowly.

Ryan raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

His confusion is reward enough. “That’s it,” I say sweetly. “Good idea. Do you need help carrying anything?”

“No, I’ve got it.” Frowning, Ryan comes to a halt in front of a small gaggle of students from our class. “You know everyone, right? Lulu, AJ, Keith, Maura. The other actors are starting tomorrow.”

“Hello.” I try a casual nod and make sure to smile at them all, as if I haven’t already Googled each person and assessed their strengths and weaknesses from various class contributions.

We start to set up: the tech guys, AJ and Keith, taking obvious pride in the shiny new equipment while Lulu and Maura faff around doing absolutely nothing. I edge over to them.

“I don’t know,” Maura is musing, sitting cross-legged on the low wall. “The L’Oréal always dries my ends out.”

Lulu nods, playing with the frayed edge on her jeans. “I have to put the serum on before conditioning; it totally locks the moisture in.”

I stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Hi, Lulu, how are you?”

Lulu blinks at me, her blue eyes wide. “I’m good. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Have you run lines yet?”

“But we’re not shooting till tomorrow.”

“Right. But we won’t have much time, because of classes, so we need it to be perfect straightaway,” I explain. “And since you’re already here . . .”

“OK.” She shrugs. “But Peter is busy.”

“Well, I’m sure Maura could help you out.” I wonder just how incompetent these people are.

“But I didn’t bring my script.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have spares!” I pass them each a folder.

“Oh. OK.” She begins flicking listlessly through the pages.

“Why don’t you start with tomorrow’s scene?”

“Sure.” Lulu turns to Maura and begins reciting while I find a spot to sit nearby. From this vantage point, I can keep an eye on everyone, so I pull out my black binder of all knowledge and wait for somebody to do something wrong.

By the time we’re finished with the shots, I’ve learned a vital new fact that may well save my sanity. Either that or it will drive me utterly insane — I haven’t decided yet. Ryan is a perfectionist.

“Can we please go?” Maura whines while our director sets up for another sweeping panorama of the asphalt. “We’re not even in these scenes, and it’s been hours!”

“OK,” I agree, but can’t help reverting to my old self. “Just meet us on time tomorrow. And check your schedules for props and costume, everyone!” I add as the other crew members take my cue to quickly disappear. I walk over to Ryan. “Have you got it yet?”

He keeps his head down, glued to the display. “Just a couple more.”

“You know, these were only supposed to take an hour.” I begin to gather the folders they’ve all abandoned nearby.

“It takes as long as it takes.”

Fifteen minutes later, my patience is wearing a little thinner. Usually I can admire anal attention to detail, and it’s not that I have anywhere else to be, but I can’t help thinking that this is setting a dangerous precedent: my precious schedule is under threat.

“That’s enough,” I say in a pleasant voice, moving so I block the shot. Ryan looks up, glaring, but I refuse to be swayed. I carefully make sure everything has been saved and stored, and reach over to turn off the camera.

“But —”

“You got the shot,” I assure him. “You got the shot five times over, at the very least.”

Ryan lets out an irritated breath, eyes clouding over. “You can’t just —”