Page 23

ARI

One year later

“Where are we going?” I ask from the passenger seat of Javina’s car. The air conditioning is on high to combat the intense heat from the early afternoon sun. I turn the vents to face me.

“I told you already,” Javina says as she makes a left turn. “We’re going to a softball game.”

“Really?” When she said that earlier, I thought she was joking.

Javina does that sometimes. She likes to answer questions with the wrong answer.

Like yesterday, when I asked her what book she’s currently reading, she said, “It’s called 101 Ways to Kill Your Best Friend and Get Away with It.

” I just rolled my eyes and moved on. “Why are we going to a softball game?”

“I was gonna surprise you, but I’ll just tell you. I entered a contest where if I won, me and a plus-one got to be extras in a music video. And guess what? I won!”

“No way!” Now I see why she told me to dress nicely. “What exactly does being an extra mean?”

“Don’t worry, babes. There’s not a lot of acting involved. Our only job is to sit on the bleachers and cheer.”

A while later, Javina pulls into the parking lot of a softball field. The scorching June sun beats down on my skin as I exit her red Corolla. A pair of giggly young women in skimpy skirts strolls past us toward a table featuring a sign that reads, extras. check in here.

“Did the email say if we’d have a chance to meet the band?” the woman with pink hair asks.

“Nope,” her friend says. “But I don’t care. I’m not leaving here without a picture with Trey Grant.”

I whip my attention to Javina. “Excuse me?”

She grits her teeth together with a guilty smile. “Oh, um, did I forget to mention that this video shoot is for a band called Flames in the Night?”

I meet her at the trunk of her car and slap her shoulder. “No, you didn’t mention that, because that’s something a good friend would have done. Why didn’t you tell me that important piece of information?”

“Because then you wouldn’t have come. Duh.”

Actually, I would have. I’ve been suppressing this deep urge inside me to see Trey again for the past year and seven months. Not that I’ve been counting...

I still see him a few times a week in my dreams. Some dreams have repeated so often, I’ve memorized them. Like the dream where Trey is lying on the floor of a gas station office with a gash in his thigh so deep, I can see the inside of his leg.

Every time I have that dream, it happens the same: Trey always says, “I’ll only slow you down.

I’ll probably bleed out anyway. Just forget about me and get outta here.

” I always fight with him until he allows me to bandage his wound, and then I help him stand and we drive away from the gas station in someone else’s car.

In my free time, I’ve been doing research on dreams and what they could mean. The best explanation I could find to explain Trey almost dying in my dreams is that I’m afraid of losing him. But how can I be afraid of losing someone I don’t have?

Javina takes my hand and leans into me with a low voice.

“Look, Ari, you can be mad at me all you want, but I’ve been in love with this band for years.

You know that Rachel and I were going to their shows almost once a month until they went on tour.

Now they’re back, and they’re filming videos again.

“They don’t ask for extras often. The two times they did in the past, I didn’t win an invitation.

Now I finally did! I know this must be weird for you, given the whole thing where he came from an alternate universe and thought you were his girlfriend, but could you please pretend like that didn’t happen for a day and just enjoy this with me? ”

“I’m not mad at you, Javie.”

She leans back with her brows knitted together. “You’re not?”

“No. I just would have appreciated a heads-up.”

“Oh. In that case...” She flashes me a cheesy smile. “Hey, babes. Just so you know, we’re gonna go be extras in a music video that Trey Grant’s band is filming.”

I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks. I’m so glad you told me that ahead of time so I could mentally prepare to see the man who’s been starring in my dreams for a year and a half.”

“You’re still having dreams about him?”

“They haven’t stopped.”

I finally told Javina about my dreams a few months ago because I wanted to get her opinion on them. Her crazy theory is that my dreams aren’t dreams. She thinks they’re Alterella’s memories. Somehow, I knew she was going to say that.

Caleb still doesn’t know about my dreams, and I don’t plan to tell him. I don’t want him reading into them as something with a deeper meaning. Despite what Javina says, I still think they’re just dreams. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

After we get checked in, we’re ushered toward a set of bleachers facing a small diamond field.

Javina and I have two seats smack-dab in the middle of the stands.

Within ten minutes, the bleachers are full of other extras.

The crew gave us blue pom-poms to wave. The bleachers on the other side of the field are full too, except the extras there have red pom-poms.

The Black woman who checked us in earlier stands in front of our bleachers with a microphone. “Hello, everyone! I’m Monique, the band’s manager. Thank you for coming.”

The crowd cheers with hoots and hollers.

“I love the enthusiasm! Two things before we get started: First, there is to be no video recording or pictures taken during the filming of this video. If any of the crew catches you with your phone out, you’ll be asked to leave. No exceptions.

“Second, many of you have already asked me if there will be a photo opportunity with the band. The answer is yes. After we film all the scenes we need, anyone who wants to get a photo can line up on the other side of this dugout.” Monique gestures toward the red team’s dugout.

A bunch of people wearing red jerseys are sitting in it. None of them are Trey. “Any questions?”

When no one raises their hand, Monique says, “Great. Now I’d like you to meet Mateo, the video director.” She gestures toward the short Hispanic guy leaning against the fence. A Giants baseball cap covers his curly brown hair.

Mateo steps forward and takes the microphone from Monique.

“Hey, hey! I’m excited to be here, and I need you to be excited too.

Your only job today is to give us high energy.

The band will be acting out a few rehearsed scenes on the field with some hired actors.

I need you to act like you’re at a real softball game.

When someone on the blue team makes it on base, you cheer!

When someone on the blue team scores a run, you scream!

When anyone on the red team does that, you boo ’em. Got it?”

The people on my bleachers let out a high-pitched whoo! in unison. Javina is one of them. I shout out a loud yes!

“Awesome!” Mateo says. “The last scene we’re filming today is of Trey scoring the winning home run.

His job today is to actually hit a ball that far.

Since that could take a few tries, we’ll need you to be on your toes for that.

The second he hits the ball out of the park, we need you on your feet, going wild. Can ya do that?”

The extras scream out again. Javina and I join them with cheers and claps.

“That’s the energy I want!” Mateo says. “We’ll begin this shoot in ten minutes.”

With a wave goodbye, Mateo and Monique head toward the away team’s bleachers. Once there, they give the away team a similar speech. Eventually, Monique heads back toward the parking lot while Mateo steps up to home plate.

A rumble of chatter comes from the home team’s dugout.

Unfortunately, I can’t see any of the players from where I’m at.

I’m anxious to see what Trey looks like now.

Does he look the same? Different? Older?

I’ve kept away from cyberstalking him, even though I want to often.

I don’t because I don’t feel like I have any business doing that.

But now that I’m here, my curiosity is flying through the roof.

The chatter in the dugout fades as a bunch of people wearing blue jerseys runs out onto the field.

The fans on both bleachers cheer for them.

The players I recognize are the ones in Trey’s band.

The drummer and bass guitarist head toward the outfield as the band’s pianist trots toward first base.

Then there’s Liz. She heads to home plate, wearing catcher’s gear.

Still no Trey though. A guy from the red team carrying a baseball bat over his shoulder joins Liz at home plate, completing the scene to look like a real softball game.

Mateo glances around, then gestures toward the empty pitcher’s mound. “Where the hell is pretty boy?”

Liz says something to the director, but it’s not loud enough for me to catch it.

Javina leans over to me and whispers, “Apparently, I’m not the only person who calls him pretty boy .”

“I’m right here,” a deep sultry voice says, making my heart spark with heat.

Trey steps out of the closed-off concession stand wearing a blue jersey, dark jeans, and a baseball cap. My breath gets caught in my throat, and my hands are suddenly sweaty. I didn’t expect my body to react like this at the mere sight of him.

The two giggly women at the front of the bleachers cheer for Trey as he jogs to meet with the video director at home plate.

Mateo says stuff I can’t hear as he gestures toward the field. In unison, Trey, Liz, and the batter nod their understanding.

Since Trey’s facing away from me, I can’t get a good look at his face, but I can get a good look at his back, and it’s not a sight to complain about.

His body fills out his jersey in all the right places.

grant is printed in big block letters over his thick shoulders. Has he always been that muscular?

“Pretty boy looks like he’s been goin’ to the gym,” Javina says with a waggle of her eyebrows.