Crossover Crossroads (The Kell and Maille Story)

007: Why can't I be gay?

Maille was ushered without any courtesy or even a semblance of politeness to a chair next to the checkout counter, the one closest to it as if they thought she might try and make a run for it. He'd given her cell phone back, but she had thoughtlessly left it in his car. What could she tell her mother or sisters anyway? I'm out with this guy I don't know, dressed up like a character in The Four Feathers, and I haven't got any money, or my phone?

The waitress insisted on taking her name and address, and asked if there were anyone she could call to come pay the bill in case her date never returned. When she asked his name, Maille was again forcefully reminded of her own lack of knowledge. How stupid could she be? He was probably the janitor or something, that's why the guy at the gate knew him.

No, there was no one she wanted to call and confess this ludicrous situation to, but she supposed she should before it was too late and too embarrassing. She started to pick up the phone on the desk when the door behind her opened and in strutted her all too flamboyant partner in crime carrying two hundred dollar bills in one waving hand.

The bill was settled immediately and he ushered her out with a hand on the small of her back. As he opened the door for her Maille turned to him.

"What is your name?" she demanded. "They asked me back there and I felt like an idiot. I am out with you dressed like a freak, and I don't even know the name of the freak I'm with..."

"You thought I had abandoned you." He realized out loud, eyes suddenly compassionate.

She glared at him openly, her gaze never wavering, indignation keeping her focused for once.

He sighed. "I would never leave you to fend for yourself, Maille. I simply came out to the car to get the money." He held the door for her, fully expecting her to get in the car, but she didn't budge.

He eyed her curiously, stubbornness in the set of her shoulders and jaw, her eyes flashing in annoyance.
But she was still there, and that said something about her.

He shrugged his elaborately clad shoulders, set the feather atop his head to wobbling, and cocked his ear at her.

She didn't move. The posturing, the discomfort was oblivious to her. If he didn't tell her right now, she was going to walk back to the studio and dump this dress and go home not to Park City, but to Alaska, or at least Montana, where she could be alone, away from strange guys, and disenchanted sisters.

She needed to get a life. This experience really brought it home to her how utterly stupid she was. How totally inexperienced, how blindly idiotic.

"Kell Stevak."

She turned to look at him. Her mind whirling with implications. Stevak, Stevak, of course, Kell Stevak. No she'd never met him, but she wasn't clueless about one of the top young actors in the business, right up there with Steve McQueen, Ryan Patrick and Matthew Lawrence.

She should have known. She'd heard his name mentioned when they announced the list of main characters in the film Melia and Steve were doing. He was the main character, the bad guy/good guy character.

She knew it now, how could she not have seen it? How could she have been so stupid?

But in its own warped way, the only thing that came out of her mouth was: "I didn't know you were gay."

"You didn't know much about me at all then, did ya?" He asked her with a completely different accent, his head still cocked to one side watching her reaction. He didn't miss a thing. He took in her stiff mien, her doubled fist, her bare foot on the edge of the car.

Actually, he couldn't believe she'd come this far--without shoes.

"I don't know you at all."

"Nor anything about me, do ya?" He challenged.

Maille shook her head doubtfully.

"So why couldn't I be gay? Huh? Or...or why couldn't I be a gentleman, and help you into the car, eh? You're safe with me Maille Mann. Come on, come on, get in."

*****