Ruby Unscripted by Cindy Martinusen Coloma Read Free Book Online Page B

out, and Aunt Jenna gives up trying to make more.
    â€œWe’re in survival mode now,” she says.
    I take in the conversations . . . a wallflower no one really notices. It’s an illuminating position. I get to overhear a lot.
    â€œThat was the best I’ve seen.”
    â€œWe’ve got this night bagged, there’s no doubt. That film was perfect.”
    â€œLet’s go to the beach after this.”
    â€œSure. Tell everyone to meet at the cove by Shellee’s.”
    â€œWho is that with Shellee?”
    â€œI don’t know, but he was staring at Blair, or so she said.”
    â€œBlair thinks everyone’s staring at her. Okay, they probably are.”
    â€œI don’t think she’s as great as everyone makes her out to be.”
    â€œAre Crystal and Dylan still broken up? I saw her in his car this afternoon.”
    They are the conversations of teenagers anywhere. These live in a different place, the names aren’t the same, and they have different interests from the kids back home, but overall the themes and emotions are the same. Socialize, make plans, dream big, have fun. The chemistry and angst between guys and girls, friendships and loves.
    The conversations make me miss home. Remind me of people who know me, who talk about me for the good and the bad, who want to hang out with me. They’re all far away right now.
    Will some of these people become my friends? I search their faces, looking for some telltale sign. Sometimes I’ve imagined going back in time to see myself walking by a future friend in the mall or at school. Maybe as a little kid, one of my future best friends played on the same playground as me. I wonder if I’ve walked past my future husband, if the love of my life might be in the cinema downstairs, or if he’s driving some highway with the music loud and an ache of longing in his chest for the mysterious her who is me, and only me.
    Another group lingers near the counter, and I catch bits of conversations.
    â€œHey, did you ask your parents if we’ll meet them in Barcelona or Marseilles this summer?”
    â€œThey haven’t figured out the plan yet. My dad’s in Germany ordering a new Porsche. He couldn’t wait to see it, so he flew over to check out the production.”
    â€œOh, did you hear that Jeff is interning on a Francis Ford Coppola film this summer?”
    I smile at that. Okay, so not all teen conversations are the same everywhere. And these may not be my future friends after all.
    Picking up a few empty cups, I turn toward the counter and see the dark-haired Johnny Depp guy coming from the kitchen. Customers aren’t supposed to be there, but he acts as if he works here. For all I know, he might. We pass each other with a quick glance.
    Aunt Jenna is washing dishes when I bring a tray back, and Uncle Jimmy is doing something with tools under the sink.
    â€œThe coffeehouse is officially closed,” she says. “They’ll clear out within the hour, but no more serving anything. You could run down and see what’s happening in the theater.”
    I shake my head. “I’ll finish cleaning up in the dining area.”
    â€œFeeling awkward with the other kids your age?” Uncle Jimmy teases, poking his head out from beneath the sink.
    â€œWho, me?” I say with a smile.
    Aunt Jenna gives me a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie, it’ll become home soon enough. You won’t feel displaced for long.”
    â€œUh-huh,” I say, trying to sound as though I believe her, knowing she’s probably right. “The people here really are mostly rich, much richer than at home. And they’re making films and going to Barcelona for summer vacation instead of playing mini golf and laser tag and going to the lake.”
    â€œI’m sure they do those things too. And you didn’t really fit in with the mini golf and lake crowd anyway. Believe me, it took some adjusting