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Page 32 of The Chemistry Test

Penny

After we drop Tabby off at the lady’s house, CJ drives us to the Airbnb in silence.

I know he’s sad to see her go, but I’m not sure if talking to him about it will make it better or worse.

We order a pizza when we get in and get started on the poster instead.

It’s the whole reason I’m here, after all, and we didn’t get any of it done on the plane like I thought we would.

After we complete the first section, the room falls silent again as we naturally both stop to take a break.

‘Tabby was lucky to have you,’ I say, as he scrolls on his phone, sitting on the floor across from me.

He looks up and turns his phone around so that I can see the screen. He’s looking at photos of her. Of course he is.

‘I was lucky to have her too. It’s amazing to think I raised someone’s future best friend. That lady’s going to love her so much.’

We sit and talk about her for a while, and kitten fostering in general.

He keeps saying things like ‘goodbye is the goal’ and that, with fostering, you have to say goodbye to be able to say hello to others.

I don’t know if there’s a fostering handbook or something, but he sounds like he’s reciting phrases from somewhere as he reassures himself that this is exactly what was supposed to happen.

Tabby being adopted is a really good thing.

‘Well, not exactly what was supposed to happen,’ he counters, more to himself than to me.

‘Why not?’

‘She was meant to go with Callie. It would’ve been easier on everyone – most importantly, them.

But I guess, the one good thing about Tabby going on her own is that she’ll get to be babied and be the centre of attention for a change.

It’s going to be good for her,’ he muses, but I can’t say I’m convinced.

When he starts getting quiet again, I try changing the topic.

‘So,’ I say. ‘How do premieres for TV shows actually work? Do you watch a few of the episodes at once? Or is there like a main premiere for publicity and then a private one for the cast and crew to watch the rest?’

He smiles lightly, amused by the question. He must know this stuff inside out by now. And he kind of looks like he was expecting me to ask something. I mean, sure, it wasn’t the right time earlier. But now? How could I not?

‘They only show the first episode of the season at the premiere,’ he says. ‘Then we wait for the episodes to come out each week with everyone else.’

My eyes must look as big as the slice of pizza I’ve picked up as he snorts at my reaction, covering his mouth while he chews.

‘Is that not the most terrifying thing ever?’ I say. ‘What if they choose a cut with an awkward voice crack or something?’ I honestly don’t know how he handles the anticipation. I could not be dealing with that.

‘It is terrifying, but it’s also the best feeling in the world,’ he says, as though it’s a revelation to him too.

‘And I just blame any awkward faces or voice cracks on the character. If there’s anything weird when I watch it with my mates, I just let them assume it was in the script.

’ He winks. ‘And hope that everyone else who watches it makes that assumption too.’

His lips part as if he’s about to speak, but then he disguises – or at least tries to disguise it – with a yawn. But I saw it and he knows it.

‘What?’ he says, smirking at me.

‘I don’t know, CJ, you tell me.’

He rolls his eyes, but not in a bad way. ‘I was just going to say, that might not be terrifying to me, but some parts of this whole thing are.’ He catches my eyes and softens. ‘Sort of.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like ...’ He stops. ‘I’m going to sound like such a dick saying this.’ He drums his fingers on the floor. Is he nervous? No, apprehensive. I think. But not about what he’s going to say, about my reaction.

‘Try me, Richard. ’

He rolls his eyes again and at this point, I’m thinking eye-rolling-induced vertigo could be a serious risk. I make a mental note to rein in the bullcrap from now on, as he starts talking.

‘Obviously for the most part it’s fine, hardly anyone recognises me, but there have been times I’ve taken a photo with someone and then been swarmed twenty minutes later when they’ve obviously posted it somewhere and tagged me and the location.

’ He laughs suddenly. ‘Swarm is too strong of a word. Honestly, who do I think I am? But it does feel like being swarmed in those moments.’

‘And you don’t like that?’

‘Lately, not really.’

‘I mean, that’s fine, though – that part’s optional, right? Like, there’s stuff you can do to stop that, if you want to.’

‘Like what?’ He says it in the way that people do when they don’t expect you to have an answer. Or at least a good one, and it dawns on me that he genuinely didn’t see this as an option before.

‘For one, you’re not obligated to take photos at all – loads of other celebrities don’t. They just give them a hug or answer a question or something instead.’ His head tilts to the left slightly, the tiniest hint of a grimace peeking through his brows.

‘Or you can just ask people not to share photos until the next day or something? Or not to tag you? It’s okay to set boundaries like that.’

He nods. ‘See, I think that could work, cos I really do like meeting people. And the issue I have is that there’s a big difference between being a celebrity sighting and making someone’s entire day – or week.

And when the swarm thing happens, I can tell that for at least some of the people, they’re just joining in for the sake of joining in.

But I can’t say yes to some people and no to others. ’

‘Maybe just setting some boundaries like that could help then. Even if some people don’t stick to them, I think most would. When you say making someone’s week , there’s still no obligation or pressure to do that if you don’t want to though.’

He rolls his shoulders and leans back on his hands, stretching out.

‘The thing is, when it’s a genuine fan, it literally is the best feeling ever, though.

And the premieres and events and stuff, when you’re prepared and expecting to see loads of fans at once, that feeling is nothing but euphoric.

Completely unmatched. So, I think this could work.

’ He frowns slightly, looking down and absent-mindedly tracing the Domino’s logo on the pizza box.

‘I don’t want people to think that I think I’m a big deal though.

Like, imagine if people start thinking I think I’m a big enough deal to be spotted by lots of people. ’

‘CJ?’ He stops tracing and looks up at me.

‘I hate to break it to you, but being in an HBO show is kind of a big deal. Thirty seconds ago, you were telling me about literal movie premieres. That’s big-deal behaviour, if you ask me.

You’ve earned the right to a couple of teeny tiny little boundaries,’ I say, clearing away any remaining specks of reservation in his mind. Leaving no doubt. ‘ Definitely. ’

He’s tracing the box again, but he’s smiling. Not a big smile, more like someone who’s being sung to on their birthday and doesn’t know where to look. But still, smiling.

‘And for what it’s worth, I think it’s normal to be slightly afraid of some of this stuff.

Chasing your dreams is scary, but so is living them.

Being a bit apprehensive – or even scared – is a sign the dream’s big enough,’ I say, feeling like a hypocrite since I tore my own dreams down long ago and am now just working towards finding my place in the world again.

No matter how big or small. Trying to find the beauty in going with the flow.

Sure, I wanted to be an astronaut or the next David Attenborough when I was younger, but so did the rest of my class.

CJ nods at me, unaware of my own mini tangent. It always amazes me how complex thoughts like that can cross your mind in a fraction of a second.

I shift my focus back to him just in time.

‘They don’t teach you that part in the movies, do they? That the scary part never actually ends, even when you get there – wherever “there” may be.’

‘No, but you also don’t get to see the happy ending play out fully in the movies. So, you’ll just have to trust me on this one,’ I say. ‘Being nervous about stuff means it’s probably worth it. The bigger the fear, the bigger the pay-off.’

For a second, I consider using what he said about premieres being euphoric to back up my point, but ultimately decide against it.

I’d hate to accidentally remind him of his grandma again and I figure I’ve probably said enough already anyway.

So, I test the waters with something else.

I’m still not planning on seeing him outside classes after this trip, so who knows if I’m ever going to get another chance like this again.

‘Anyway,’ I say, subconsciously rubbing my hands together, ‘since we’re on the subject, spill the tea. What’s something most people don’t know about acting on such a big show?’

He ends up telling me all sorts of behind-the-scenes aspects of both acting and premieres, and I take in every word like it’s a delicacy.

In a way, it kind of is. I never thought I’d be discussing something like this with someone like him.

And it seems like he really enjoys talking about it too – he’s perked up a lot since earlier.

In the same way that working on my blog energises me, CJ comes to life when he talks about acting.

There may be things he’s still getting to grips with, but there’s an awful lot more that he absolutely adores.

At one point, when he’s telling me about his master actor-cum-scientist plan, it crosses my mind how easy it would have been for me to go along with him earlier.

To agree that being somewhat famous is too scary and he doesn’t have it in him – he’d be better off aiming for just the sciencey part of his plan.

Like me. Like I am.

And maybe, in that universe, where I tried to convince him down that path, who knows what could have happened between us. If his world converged a little more with mine.

But I can see now, he was made for this. All of it, not just the medical-researcher part.

I try to soak up every inch of the evening, before we go back to just being classmates again.

The way he lightly pushes my hair out of my face when my head gets too heavy to hold itself up.

And how we’re both so invested in the conversation that he props cushions against the back of the sofa for us to lie against, to buy us more time. Without even drawing attention to it.

Well, to buy me more time. With his endless anecdotes and the effortless way he carries us both through the conversation when my voice gets tired, he looks like he could stay here forever.

And then, when I really hit the wall and can’t manage a second longer, he thanks me for listening, like I’ve somehow done him a favour, before helping me to my room on the way to his.

When I get into bed, I use every last scrap of energy I have to open Outlook, using a throw pillow to hold my phone up for me. I use a single finger to scroll through my emails.

The first one that catches my attention is from Michael, reminding me about my automatic extension for the assignment.

Well, crap. I’d completely forgotten about that.

In my first meeting with Stephanie, she said she’d arrange an automatic, week-long extension on all my assignments this year. Which means I didn’t have to come all this way after all. And since he’s working with me, CJ would automatically be granted the extension too.

There was literally no need for me to fly all the way out here. A sharp laugh escapes as the revelation fully sinks in. What an idiot. Smart enough for the assignment, but not smart enough to know when I have to hand it in. Sounds about right.

If CJ were here, I’d probably tell him about it right now to get it over with, but he’s busy getting stuff for breakfast tomorrow. I would’ve offered to go with him in the morning if I had known, but he didn’t even text me until after the front door slammed behind him on his way out.

I push the thought out of my head before I start getting disappointed again because, rationally, I know this isn’t about being left out. Or anything to do with me at all.

We wouldn’t have been able to go until I was semi-functional again, which wouldn’t be until fairly late (if ever). And I wouldn’t be surprised if the Tabby sadness had hit him full-force all over again once he was alone in his room, looking for a distraction from it.

It had to happen, but part of me’s surprised he’s even in this situation.

I was kind of hoping the whole thing would fall through somehow and he’d adopt her himself, even though it’s not the right time for it.

But the adopter was ready and CJ handed her over.

As simply as that. Just like he was supposed to.

I keep scrolling to keep myself busy until he comes back, but there’s nothing else I really care about in my inbox.

The only vaguely interesting thing is the invite to the annual costume party next Friday night.

There’s a different location for each of the faculties, so I skim the list until I find the one for STEM students, who’ve all been put together.

Rover’s. I actually know that one! Well, kind of – it’s the bar Stephanie told me about (with the hidden quiet room where I could do meds or lie down for a few minutes if needed).

I almost consider jotting down the date, but just looking at the attached photo of girls in neon tutus makes me feel cold, so I snuggle down even further under the fluffy duvet instead.