Ghosted

“Yeah… I mean… sort of.” She blushes as she shoots me a look. “It’s kind of stupid, really. There’s a film that’s supposed to be shooting in the city. My friends and I are hoping to go down and maybe, you know... see what we can see.”

I smile softly. “There’s nothing stupid about that.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Of course not,” I say. “I went to a movie set once.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? You?”

The way she says that makes me laugh, although I probably should be offended by her incredulous tone. It’s not like I’m some uptight old lady. I’m not Mrs. McKleski. I’m only a few years older than her. “Yes, really.”

“What movie?”

“It was just one of those teen comedies. The titles all kind of sound the same.”

“Who was in it? Anyone I might know?”

She wants to hear all about it. I can tell by the curious gleam in her eyes, but I have no desire to get into that story. “It was so long ago that I really can’t even say.”

Bethany counts out my change, and my eyes drift to the magazine she’s been reading as I grab my bag. All at once, my insides freeze, ice running through my veins, the cold striking me straight to the bone. Plastered on the cover is a face I know. Even wearing a black hat and dark sunglasses, ducking his head, he’s easily recognizable.

My gut burns, twisting and coiling and ugh ugh ugh…

He’s standing beside a woman with platinum blonde hair. While he shies away from the camera, she’s wide-open, looking right at it, her green eyes vivid in the photo. Black leather covers her supermodel frame, while red lipstick accentuates a set of pouty lips. Her skin is a deep tan, like the woman lives on a beach somewhere.

Ugh, it makes me sick.

Even I have to admit she’s beautiful.

Below the photograph of the pair is a massive caption, written in bold:

JOHNNY AND SERENA’S SECRET WEDDING

My eyes linger on those words.

I think I’m going to throw up.

“Do you believe it?” Bethany asks.

My gaze lifts to meet hers. “Believe what?”

“That Johnny Cunning and Serena Markson eloped.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know why it even matters to me. Don’t know why my chest feels tight at the mere insinuation that a wedding might’ve happened somewhere, at some point, a wedding where he was the groom but I wasn’t present. I feel like an obsessed, lovesick fangirl, convinced the heartthrob was supposed to be mine, but he wasn’t.

“I think, where Johnny Cunning is concerned, anything’s possible.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Bethany says, picking the tabloid back up as I head for the exit. “Really hoping to run into them this weekend.”

My footsteps falter. “Them?”

“Yeah, the movie that’s filming? It’s the new Breezeo one.”

Something happens inside of me when Bethany says that, something that knocks the wind out of my sails. Whoa. It’s a crushing, soul-sucking sensation that starts deep in my chest, right where I used to keep my heart. It’s gone now, locked away in a steel-reinforced safe, padlocked and hidden where no one can get to it without my blessing, the spot where it used to beat now nothing more than a black hole that desperately pulls at the rest of me, trying to swallow me up at the sound of that word.

Breezeo.

“They’re still making those?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, but even I can hear the change in my tone. Pathetic.

“Of course!” Bethany laughs. “How do you not know? I thought everyone knew.”

“I haven’t really been paying attention.”

More like I’ve actively avoided, but that’s another long story.

“You’ve seen them, though, right?” Bethany narrows her eyes. “Please, tell me you’ve at least watched the others.”

“I’ve caught bits and pieces,” I admit.

She throws her hands up dramatically, like my answer is absurd. “That’s just… insane. Oh my god, you need to watch them! The stories are amazing… so funny and just… I don’t even have words! And Johnny Cunning, that man is serious eye-candy. You’re totally missing out. I’m dead serious, you need to watch them!”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” she says, smiling like she won something. “The first one is called Transparent and the second one is Shadow Dancer.”

“And the one they’re filming now?”

“Ghosted.”

I look away from her when she says that.

“Well, good luck this weekend,” I mumble. “Hope it works out for you.”

Bethany says something else but I don’t stick around to hear it, carrying my Lucky Charms as I jet out to the parking lot. Puddles cover the asphalt, since it rained most of the morning. It always seems to rain at times like these. I dodge the water, making my way to my car.

It’s only a few blocks from the grocery store to my father’s house. In this tiny town, it's only a few blocks to get anywhere. I pull my old Toyota into his driveway and park as brakes screech in the street, a big yellow school bus coming to a stop in front of the house. Perfect timing. Lights flash and the door opens, a bundle of energy bursting off of the bus and rushing toward me. “Mommy!”