Ten Years

Chapter Nine

Edward passed his hands over his hair and angled his body toward Leïla. His gaze steadfast, he stared at her for a second. She cocked her head, humour dancing in her eyes. "Is that your acting face?"

"This is my poker face," he answered in a stern, low voice. "You can read nothing from this."

They looked at each other trying to keep a straight face but ended up bursting out in a booming laugh. It was a fleeting moment of happy connection, one that he would keep reviving in his head years later.

"I'm actually the worst liar. Can't lie to save my life." He shrugged.

"Well, show me what you got."

"Okay, here we go." He paused for a moment. "I threw up the first time I performed on stage, I auditioned for a porno, and I'm a decent knitter."

Leïla bit on her thumb. "Gosh! Why do I feel like all of these could be lies?"

Edward chuckled. He was proud of the lie he threw in his list of truths. Change one word, and it could have been a truth as well. He opened his mouth to tell her just that, but the words stuck in his throat as Leïla absentmindedly traced the line of her neck with her index, oblivious to the effect she had on him. 

What he wouldn't give to trace the line of her neck with his finger, down the invisible trail between her breasts, down her abdomen, her— Stop, he told himself, his heart pounding in his ears. He forced himself to think of something else. Anything else. Like throwing up on stage, in a pub or all over the sidewalk. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Yep. Pavement pizza did the trick. Always did.

Her soft voice broke through his thoughts. "I think you're lying about the audition."

He straightened in his seat. "Nope. That I did."

"No way!"

"Well, I accidentally auditioned for a porno, but, yeah, I did."

"Are you serious? How can one audition accidentally for a porno? And did you get the part? No, I don't wanna know. Oh Gosh, I do want to know!"

He laughed. "So, I was about nineteen and—"

"Barely legal?" she smiled and nudged her elbow with his.

"Yep. Barely legal of age and struggling to pay the rent. And then I saw this thing in the paper, and it went something along the lines of young male actor needed. 500 quids. One day of filming. And I said what do I have to lose?"

"Your pants?" Leïla giggled, and her cascade of laughter washed over him.

He met her amused gaze and sighed dramatically. "So, I went in, and in hindsight, I think I should've known it was fishy. See, I met the producer in this smelly, poorly lit back room. And the first thing he asked me to do was to lose my shirt."

"I knew it!"

Slapping his hand on his chest, Edward threw his head back and laughed. A startled female flight attendant rose her eyebrow as she passed by their row.

"Anyway. Long story short, I stopped before pulling down my pants then ran so fast from the place and just left the bloody shirt on the floor. I was desperate for money but not that desperate." He could still remember the look on the producer's face when he turned on his heels and fled the backroom.

She leaned a little closer, and her arm brushed his. "I think this is the funniest story I've ever heard."

For the first time in forever, Edward wanted to bare his soul. He wanted to tell this very girl sitting next to him all the thoughts that swirled in his mind and all the things he never thought about. He wanted to share his fears and the dreams that may or may not come true. And he knew she would listen- really listen, and that her curls would bounce, and her eyes would twinkle and match the humour in her voice.