Page 9 of Romance Is Dead

Teddy: We still on for this morning?

Teddy: Did you forget our rehearsal?

Teddy: I’ll sacrifice you to the killer if you don’t get up here.

Teddy: Just kidding, I wouldn’t do that. But seriously.

It’s not that I’d forgotten, per se.

I’d totally remembered that after we’d agreed to our pact the night before, we’d planned our first acting lesson for eight o’clock tonight.

What I’d forgotten was that Teddy had texted me an hour later to reschedule for eight this morning instead so he could still call his brother tonight for their book club.

This was a problem because it was currently 8:08 a.m. and Mara, Chloe, and I were at the hotel’s restaurant, elbows deep in a giant breakfast spread.

None of us had been able to make up our minds, so we’d ordered several dishes to share, including an irresponsible number of biscuits.

The meal was doubling as a therapy session for Mara, who’d just gotten word that her ex-boyfriend Austin had sent an unexpected package to her apartment in LA. I tucked my phone beneath the table, trying to listen as I tapped out a reply.

“. . . just don’t understand why he’d send everything back like that — it’s so mean.” Mara stabbed at a spear of asparagus covered in hollandaise sauce. “I certainly don’t want this crap after he’s had it for months.”

My ears perked up as I continued to type. “Wait, what did he send back?”

I’d liked Austin the one time I’d met him — he’d clearly adored Mara and didn’t mind giving her just as much sass as she gave him. But he’d lost all points with me when he dumped her without explanation on the last day of filming.

“A sweater I left in his trailer, and an old glasses case, and” — she hiccupped a little cry — “the stuffed hedgehog I bought him for our one-month anniversary.”

My heart squeezed. No one loved and craved love as much as Mara did, and no one was as loyal. Once you were in her heart, you were there for good.

“He never deserved you,” I said. “He doesn’t even deserve your old glasses case. I’m glad he sent it back.”

“Yeah, what a dick.” Chloe reached across the table and squeezed Mara’s wrist. “You’ll find someone way better, I know it.”

I gave Chloe a small smile of thanks, grateful she was there to help comfort Mara.

We had started including Chloe at our table for breakfast every morning, and so far she was a welcome addition.

She could still be a little shy and awkward at times, but she was sweet and clearly appreciated being included.

We’d invited Audrey, too, but she had declined.

Instead, she spent most mornings at a separate table, alone.

She was currently in a booth in the far corner of the room, her eyes glued to the script as she mouthed her lines.

“Thank you, guys.” Mara swallowed, putting on a brave face. “We were only together for two months — I don’t understand why this is still bothering me.”

“Hearts don’t make sense sometimes.” Chloe handed Mara a chocolate-chip scone. “Here. It’ll help.”

My phone dinged: Teddy, saying it was ok if I was a few minutes late. Clocking me once again reaching for my phone, Mara nudged me with her foot.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah, sorry.” I clicked it off and returned my attention, rightfully, to Mara. “Just. . . my dad.”

This was only a half lie. My dad had texted me earlier, asking when I’d be coming to visit since he lived just a few hours away from the set.

“How’s Mr. P?”

“Enjoying his retirement, maybe a little too much.” My dad might have been in his sixties, but he had a far more exciting life than I did. A few weeks ago, he’d gone zip-lining with a local outdoors club for retirees. They’d smuggled beer in their thermoses and called it a Zip ’n Sip.

His lifestyle stressed me out.

“I want to be your dad when I grow up.” Mara split apart the scone and spread on some butter. “Maybe I should move to a cabin in the mountains, where I can be bitter and single for the rest of my life and never have to think about Austin again.”

“If you do, I’m coming with you.” I stood, collecting my phone and wallet. “I need to go call him. Sorry to cut this short.”

“You’re not coming back?” Mara’s eyes were wide, like a sad basset hound puppy. “It’ll only take a minute, won’t it?”

“Um. . .” I hadn’t planned on telling anyone about helping Teddy, but now Mara and Chloe were both staring at me.

“Actually, I’m about to go give Teddy an acting lesson.” My cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Mara and Chloe looked at each other knowingly.

“It’s not like that!” I insisted. “You both saw him the other day. He desperately needs them if this movie is going to work.”

“I did see, but I wasn’t paying attention to his acting, I’ll tell you that,” Mara quipped. Chloe nodded in agreement, one hand over her mouth to stifle giggles.

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I’m not filming today, so I’ll catch you both later.”

“Ok.” Mara heaved a sigh. “I guess Chloe and I will just have to finish this by ourselves.”

“You’ll be having a much better time than I will,” I assured her, envisioning the morning ahead. “Trust me.”

My stomach fluttered as I rapped on Teddy’s door. It was still awkward not knowing if he remembered me from the party — either he did and was helping me save face by not bringing it up, or he had no memory of me at all. I couldn’t decide which was more humiliating.

The door flew open, revealing Teddy dressed in joggers and a white tee-shirt that was a hair too snug, accentuating every muscle in his upper body. I swallowed, trying not to stare. I could see his pecs, for crying out loud. He could have a little modesty.

“Jigsaw!”

I smiled thinly, already tired of the nickname. “If I’m Jigsaw, who are you? Pinhead?”

Teddy grinned. “Wasn’t he like. . . a sex demon?” He cocked his head to the side. “Seems about right.”

“I. . . I didn’t mean — ”

“Get in here, I’m just screwing around.” He opened the door wider and I followed him inside, already flustered. “Want something to drink? I’ve got Dr. Pepper and. . . Dr. Pepper.”

“It’s eight in the morning.”

“Wrong.” Teddy pulled two cans out of the fridge and handed me one. “You were supposed to be here at eight but you weren’t. Which means we’re officially in the Dr. Pepper time zone.”

“Touché.”

He cracked the tab on his can as he dropped onto the couch. “Did you have any epiphanies overnight about who the face in the photo could be?”

“Unfortunately not.” I opened my own drink and took a long sip of the sweet bubbles. “It’s just too blurry.”

“Like a photo of Big Foot,” Teddy added solemnly.

“We should make a list. Of who it could be.” I grabbed a pen and pad of paper and scrawled “suspects” at the top.

“Sure, you can help yourself to my belongings.”

I gave him a withering glare. “You were going to use these?”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms. “Maybe I write poetry at night.”

“Do you?”

“Workshopping pickup lines is an art form.”

I decided to ignore him. “Ok, so the face in the photo is suspicious, but we don’t know for sure that they’re the killer. That means we can’t exclude women from the official suspects.” I started to list everyone I knew on set. “Natasha, Brent, Chloe, whoever’s in the photo — ”

“Mara,” Teddy interjected.

“It was not Mara.”

“How do you know? Was she in your trailer?”

“Not the whole night, but — ”

“I thought you wanted to solve this?” He reached over and tapped the paper. “On the list.”

I gritted my teeth. “Fine.” Then, below Mara’s name, I scrawled Teddy’s.

“Hey!”

“You showed up at my trailer after the murder, which means you were at base camp but unaccounted for at the time of his death. Suspicious.”

“This,” Teddy said, pulling up Trevor’s Instagram photo, “looks nothing like me. My jawline is way squarer!”

I shrugged, unmoved. “We also have to unofficially add the entire crew.” Becoming overwhelmed, I rubbed my temples. “That’s so many people.”

“And my hairline is better, too.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me!”

Reluctantly, Teddy put down his phone. “It’ll be fine. We’ll figure out who the face in the photo is, talk to him, and go from there. One step at a time.”

Shockingly, Teddy was making a lot of sense. I took a few sips of my soda, feeling the wisps of stress start to dissipate. He was right, we had to focus on finding the man in the photo. But in the meantime, I had a lesson to teach.

I stood and placed my half-empty can on the counter. “Should we get rehearsing?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Teddy reached for the scripts that were resting on the desk. “The seance scene, right?”

I nodded, taking the stapled stack of paper and paging to the scene we’d be shooting the next morning. It was going to be a fun one.

Our characters, a few hours into their beer-fueled party, stumble upon an old Ouija board in one of the bedrooms. They use it in a game of truth or dare, holding a seance and giving the witch’s spirit permission to enter the mortal world.

It’s the scene that kick-starts the rest of the movie — not a particularly serious scene, but an important one.

I held the script but didn’t bother reviewing my lines. I already had them memorized. “Ready?”

We started at the top, with Teddy’s character pulling the Ouija board out of the closet.

He had to keep checking the script, and there were a few spots when I could sense nervousness creeping in.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes, shifting on his feet and running a hand along the back of his neck instead of fully committing to acting out the scene.

I slowed us down, making sure he had his lines memorized before we continued.