Page 93 of Out on a Limb

“I’m sorry I’m missing it,” Cameron said. “Except not at all. When do you start Teach for America?”

“September. So we still have some time.” Greg squeezed Ethan’s knee.

“And you’re okay with him going?” Cameron asked Ethan.

“Of course.” Ethan didn’t seem to understand the question. Then again, Greg was only going to be a three-hour drive away in Philadelphia. Not a four-hour flight. “I’ll miss him, but we’ll make it work.”

“Or die trying.” Greg grabbed chips from Ethan’s plate.

“And when I go off to law school in a few years, we’ll keep making it work.”

“You’re so sure about that?” Cameron asked.

“Yeah,” Greg said. He gave Ethan a look that was indecipherable to Cameron or anyone else who wasn’t Ethan. But Cameron felt the love between them, and he knew that they truly would make it work.

“Will you stop eating off my plate? Get your own chips!” Ethan covered his plate.

“They don’t taste as good when I get them.”

“Get a room,” Cameron said. “Or a library.”

Ethan turned ghost white. Cameron loved doing that.

Professor Mackey approached him with her big purse in hand.

“You’re going?”

“I have my daughter’s ballet recital. Can we talk privately?”

Cameron led them out to the back terrace. It was still hot, but at least they could catch a light breeze now and then.

“I didn’t want to just mail this to you.” She handed him his screenplay. Cameron was impressed at the weight of it in his hand. He wrote this.

On top was an A-plus.

“You probably give these to all your students,” he said of the grade.

“I haven’t given one of those out in three years.”

Cameron rubbed his finger over the grade. He hadn’t received an A-plus since elementary school. “I won’t tell Robert.”

She smoothed her hand over the top page. “Robert’s parents have called me asking why their brilliant and gifted son is getting a B on all his assignments. I told them I was being generous and hung up.” She shrugged and leaned back against the railing like a boss. “The power of tenure.”

“You might have just insulted a future Oscar-winning screenwriter.”

She didn’t seem to care. “I sound like a broken record, but you have talent. If you keep at it, you can make a go at being a professional screenwriter.”

He had to laugh at that. Cameron Buckley, Professional Screenwriter. Cameron Buckley, Studio Exec sounded more realistic. “I’ve been wondering this whole time. Why didn’t you stay? You wrote a hit movie. You could’ve…”

“Done more than grade screenwriting assignments?”

“Been successful.”

Her face tightened at the remark, and Cameron wished he could take it back. Or at least pad it.

Or not. He remained defiant. Damn it, Mackey had talent. “Do you know how many people dream of being a screenwriter? I’ve read so many scripts, most of them by writers who will never achieve the type of success you had. You were on this path to be the next Callie Khouri or Diablo Cody.”

“One A-plus, and you think you run the joint.” Her tone stayed light, but he detected an edge to her voice. “Shortly after my movie came out, my mother-in-law got very sick. My husband kept coming back here to take care of her. After our first daughter was born, we decided to move back permanently. It was a tough decision at the time. A very tough decision. I mean, we were living in Brentwood! I told him we would rent around here for a year first and see how we liked it. Turns out we loved it.”