For Her (The Girl I Loved Duet 1)

I know mine does.

He showers in silence, and the entire set is still, because in the shower, Peter—Alex—is crying. Heart-wrenching sobs that illustrate the character’s PTSD and trauma. It’s broken and visceral and the camera captures every perfect second of it.

Pulling himself together, he finishes the shower, and wraps a towel around his waist. The final piece of the scene is Alex making himself some food in his kitchen before he gets a phone call from his undercover contact telling him it’s time to go in.

He starts to make an omelet, and then the cellphone on the table rings. Peter stares at the phone, like he’s horrified by it. His entire body is tense as he picks up the phone. “Hello?”

The sound of his voice is shocking, piercing the intense silence of his scene. He conveyed so much in that scene without saying a single word. I wait a couple of beats before I call ‘Cut!”

The whole room breathes again. The wardrobe girl hands Peter a robe and I wave him over. “That was really good,” I tell him. “Stunning.”

For once, he’s lacking his usual smile and charm. That wasn’t an easy scene, and there’s still something in his eyes that’s there. “Thank you.”

“I want to get one more just in case, but I don’t think we’ll need to do more than that.”

He nods. “Okay. I appreciate that.”

“Can I ask you something?” I look at him noticing how exhausted he seems after that.

“Sure.”

“What was it? If you don’t mind, and it won’t hurt you capturing it again, what were you using to summon that panic?”

Peter looks at me and the full weight of his brown eyes feels like it might crush me. “You.”

The floor is falling from under me. “Me?”

“That day,” he says, “when you fainted in the prop room. To this day, I’ve never been so terrified. I had no idea if you were okay or if I had done something to hurt you. And the nurse kicked me out of the room and it was even worse because I couldn’t even see if you were still breathing.”

His voice is raw, and he’s not looking at me. For the first time, I think I finally understand why he did it. I’d always thought that it was arrogance—that he thought he knew better than me, and that’s why he decided to destroy my life.

If it was a boy terrified of losing his girlfriend, if he thought I might die or disappear, that’s…terrifying, and I can’t pretend that I wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He nods again, seemingly unable to speak.

“How much time do you need?”

“None. Let’s do it.”

I swallow. “Reset, please!”

In a matter of minutes, we’re back to one, and I’m watching it all over again, but this time I can’t keep tears from sliding down my face, because I’m not watching Alex this time. I’m watching Peter. I’m watching him relive thinking that I’m going to die, and how the idea rips him apart. The second take is impossibly better than the first, and when I call cut, I look around. There are tears glistening in the eyes of some of the crew, and I know that somehow, through the pain, we made magic here today.

14

Peter

12th Grade

The door opens and the nurse comes out. “You can see her, she’s awake, but she needs to rest.”

I’m off the floor and through the office door before she finishes the sentence. My heart is still pounding, and I feel like there’s a vice around my chest. She said she’s okay, but it’s not until I see Amber’s eyes open that I actually sigh in relief.

My mind was spinning out of control, imagining the worst. Imagining what life without Amber would be like, what I would do if she disappeared just like that, like my mother did. I wouldn’t survive it.

“Hey,” she says, with a crooked smile.

I want to touch her—want to make sure that she’s all right, but I don’t want to make it worse. Amber has always seemed to fill the room with her light and personality and wit, and lying on the cot she looks so small and delicate. There’s a lump in my throat that I have to swallow. “Are you okay?”

She waves a hand weakly. “I’m fine. This is nothing.”

I sit on the edge of the cot and take her hand in mine. “You fainted. I kissed you and you just collapsed. That’s not fine. That’s nowhere near fine.”

“I’m fine, Peter. I’m just tired, I’ve been really stressed about the whole senior project thing, staying up late trying to get all the work done and learning my lines and stuff.”

That doesn’t sound right, but I let a smile come to my face. I don’t want to let her know how scared I was. If she’s stressed out, I don’t want to add to it with my own. “Or, you know, talking to me.”