Chapter 30 Ryan

CHAPTER 30 RYAN I

January 2007

Los Angeles

There I stood, just a few feet from Cate Kay. She’d materialized so unexpectedly that all I could do was stare blankly at her. Even though she would already have known what I looked like, I still found myself wondering what she saw and whether the real me was satisfactory. Brushing my teeth, washing my face, neither of these things had happened yet. I was wearing what I had slept in. These were facts I was suddenly aware of as I absorbed the woman in my backyard.

“Hi.” She waved like she was tracing a rainbow. I smiled because the gesture was purposefully awkward, ironic even, and I liked her already for calling attention to the strangeness of the moment. Discreetly (I think), I looked her down to up. My view from toe to head: suede Puma sneakers, blue jeans, white T-shirt, faded leather jacket, light brown hair in a messy bun, bittersweet eyes.

What I’m saying is, she was effortlessly cool, and I was having trouble believing she was Cate Kay. Not possible, I kept telling myself. That the author of the hottest book in the world also had sun-kissed cheeks and a jawline like a mannequin and was standing in my backyard with a look that could only be described as a smirk. Like she was waiting for me to process it all. Or maybe it was a defense mechanism. Either way, I needed to say something.

“Hi back,” is what I managed. Then, a beat later, “You’re really, really early. Like, so early I haven’t even brushed my teeth.”

“I was excited, I couldn’t sleep, so I took an earlier flight… well, actually, the earliest flight—first of the day, five twenty.” She put down the bag and I realized there were things hosts were supposed to do for guests, and I was failing at all of them. Into action I sprung, collecting her bag from the ground, gently touching her arm as I passed. “Let’s get you settled,” I said. But my brain was replaying the touch, wondering why I had done it. As best I could understand, it was to introduce the idea of… I’m happy you showed up early at my back gate.

The guest room was across the hall from my bedroom. A dark purple Turkish rug was the star of the show, laid at an angle in front of a low-slung wooden bed frame. On top was a white duvet and six colorful pillows. No such thing as too many pillows, my mom had argued two years ago, and I can’t say, back then, I had an opinion on the matter. “This is you,” I said, carefully placing her bag on the bed. “I’m just across the way,” I added. Now that my bellhop duties were done, and far too quickly, I was scrambling for what to offer next. Space, yes, maybe she needed space.

“I’ll let you do your thing,” I said. “The bathroom is just there, in the hallway, if you’re one of those must-shower-after-they-fly types. I’ll be out back with my terrible coffee.”

“Are you?” She was now on the opposite side of the bed from me. She was unzipping her bag, and she seemed to know I was confused by the question. She gave me an extra second to rewind to what I had said before the coffee thing. Ah!

Me: “I’m not, but I really want to be.” II

“There’s still time.” She was rummaging through her bag, but she lifted her eyes to mine and they were a bright brown—shimmering like if diamonds were brown. Being the first to look away felt like a fail. I willed myself to hold her gaze. We held eye contact for many seconds, and I swear it felt like we were both refusing to be the one to end it. Or maybe it wasn’t like that for her. But when she looked back down into her bag, I felt like I’d proven something to her. III

“I’ll be outside,” I said again as I was leaving the room. My hand curled around the side of the door, pulling it shut behind me.

“Ryan,” she said, and I turned back. The door was still in my hand. I raised my eyebrows, hmmm? She was holding her toiletry bag, and I resisted the urge to tell her that I liked how my name sounded in her mouth. That was something a character said in a poorly written drama. Not in real life.

“I’m Cass, by the way,” she said.

Cass. There it was. Cate Kay’s real name was Cass.

“Hi, Cass,” I said with a smile.

I . Note from Cate: Ryan will not be pleased that she’s been off-screen (off-page?) for such a long stretch of this story, but now she’s back. Let us give her our full attention.

II . Note from Cate: If you are not a person who showers after a flight, and have never considered wanting to be that person, then you are more like Amanda.

III . Note from Cate: When I first read this part from Ryan, I was shocked that she remembered this moment. I had also felt like looking away was a failure, and I remember thinking that I was the one who had failed. But she’s wrong in why it started. I wasn’t testing her; she was just so beautiful that I must have been staring.