If We Were a Movie Page 2

  I sighed. My brothers just didn’t get it. “Steinhardt has one of the top music programs in the nation. Half of the audience will be agents, producers, and talent scouts. Everyone wants to get into the showcase, and it’s almost impossible for freshmen to get in. If I can, then I could be considered for several internships over the summer. Do you have any idea how competitive the music industry is? This isn’t just some dumb talent show. It’s my chance to stand out, get ahead of the game. It’s my future. I’m not jeopardizing that to go on some stupid date with a girl who isn’t even my girlfriend. Forget it. Go have fun without me. I have to finish this.”

  They gave up, but they weren’t happy about it. They grumbled curses at me as they headed out the door.

  This was the moment my life became a scene from a movie. Just as my brothers were about to leave, my computer beeped at me to let me know it was finished rendering. If my computer had finished just two seconds later, it wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t even be telling this story. Two more seconds—literally—and the door would have been shut and they would have left. They were already in the hall. But, as fate would have it, Chris and Tyler heard the beep and stepped back inside the room, thus changing my life forever, because they knew that sound meant I was finished.

  “Did you hear that, Ty?” Chris asked.

  “Sure did. It was the sound of Runt running out of excuses.”

  “It’s done rendering, is all. I still have to—”

  “Nice try,” Tyler said. “Do I have to hold this thing hostage?” He held his cup of coffee above my computer, as if threatening to dump the liquid over the keys.

  “Don’t!” I yelled. “That’s not even funny.”

  “Neither is your lack of a social life.” Tyler shook the cup a little. “You gonna come with us?”

  I was tired and stressed, and I hadn’t backed up the project to my portable hard drive yet. I didn’t want to go out. Tyler wouldn’t really fry my computer, but he’d never leave me alone, either, so I gave in. I always gave in. “Fine, whatever. Just back away from the laptop.”

  “Atta boy, Runt,” Chris teased from across the room.

  And that’s when it happened. My brain was still freaking out over the thought of Tyler somehow accidentally ruining my project, so I didn’t see Chris grab a jacket from my closet and chuck it at me until it flew past my face and knocked away the coffee still dangling from Tyler’s fingers. It happened in slow motion, just like when bad things happen in the movies. The cup exploded open all over my laptop in a mess of sparks, smoke, pops, and fizzling noises.

  Watching my laptop die was surreal. I knew my project, my 4.0 GPA, and my chances for the end-of-semester showcase were vanishing right before my eyes. I was completely helpless to do anything about it. I just stood there, staring in shock while Tyler and Chris scrambled to clean up the mess.

  Chris snapped his fingers in front of my face, breaking me from my trance. “Runt, dude, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t freak,” Tyler added. “We’ll get Dad to buy you another one.”

  “A third of my grade.”

  “We’ll talk to your teacher,” Chris continued. “We’ll explain it wasn’t your fault. We’ll get you an extension.”

  “The showcase.”

  “We’ll fix it, Runt. We promise.”

  I didn’t know which one of them was still talking at this point, nor did I care. “Forget it. You guys have done enough already.”

  “Nate, we’re sorry, dude. It was an accident.”

  For some reason, it was the use of my real name that made me snap. My shock wore off, and I was quickly consumed with anger. “It’s always an accident!” I shouted. “You never know when to quit! You push, and you push, and you push until things get out of hand, and I’m always the one who takes the hit. Why can’t you guys just leave me alone, for once in our lives?”

  I grabbed my jean jacket—since my nice, new leather suede one was covered in coffee—and stormed from the room, slamming the door on my way out. Chris and Tyler didn’t come running after me, so I must have looked as upset as I felt.

  My project was gone, my laptop destroyed. And I never wanted to see Tyler or Chris again. After storming out on my brothers, I left my residence hall and started walking. I didn’t care where I was going; I was just getting away. I needed air and time to cool my temper. Somewhere in my brain, I knew I should call my father about replacing my laptop and contact my professor to try and explain my missing project as soon as possible, but I was still in shock.

  Sophie’s voice filled my ear before I realized I’d even called her. “Hey, baby. How’s your project going? Did you finish?”

  “Not exactly. How’s your paper coming? Do you have time for a break?”

  “Not really. I finished my paper, but I have a study group at six.”

  I let out a long breath. “Okay. Never mind.”

  Sophie’s playful tone disappeared. “Nate? What’s wrong?”

  I sighed again. What wasn’t wrong? “It’s a long story, but I can see you tomorrow after class.”

  “Baby, you sound awful. If something’s the matter, I can skip the study group.”

  Part of me really wanted to say yes to that, the really selfish part that just wanted to wallow in self-pity and let my girlfriend comfort me. But I knew that wouldn’t help anything. “No. Don’t do that. I know you have that test that you’re nervous about. I’ll just see you tomorrow after class.”

  I didn’t sound convincing enough. “Nate, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got half an hour. Why don’t we meet for a little while, and I’ll go late to my study group? They’ll be there for hours. It’ll be fine.”

  I didn’t want to be needy, but I couldn’t turn down that offer. “Yeah, okay. Meet me at that café you like on University? I’ll buy you a coffee to take to your study group.”

  The smile was back in her voice when she answered. “Sure. See you soon.”

  Talking to Sophie made me feel marginally better. I could think with a clear head now, anyway—enough that I could finally face the problem of my missing project. As I headed toward the café, I pulled up the Internet on my phone. There had to be something I could do to recover the files from my computer.

  My quest for computer advice came crashing to a halt when I collided with a stranger just outside the café. The impact was hard enough that it knocked me back a step, and, wouldn’t you know it, the person I’d run into was holding a Styrofoam cup that exploded all over me.

  Yelping in surprise, I dropped my phone as I scrambled out of my jacket, which was now covered in piping hot liquid. I used a dry side of it to wipe the burning liquid from my hands. When I bent down to pick up my phone, I finally lost it. The phone had been drenched as much as my jacket, and I’d cracked the screen when I dropped it on the ground. It was too much. After everything that had happened that evening, having a second coffee mishap broke what was left of my sanity.

  I looked down at my soggy, stained jacket and burst into laughter. Not funny “ha ha” laughter, but slightly maniacal “are you kidding me with this” laughter. “Of course,” I groaned, “because once wasn’t enough.” Glaring at the heavens, I forgot all about being in public and shouted, “Thank you very much.”

  My moment of crazy was interrupted by what I could only imagine was a string of curses being muttered in Chinese. “That is no way to talk to your elders, young man,” an angry voice said. “Especially not when you’ve so rudely knocked them to the ground.”

  I snapped back to reality and realized that I hadn’t collided with thin air. The stranger I’d bumped into was a little old woman. I’d knocked her completely to the ground. The to-go cup and the small paper bag she’d been carrying now lay in the street, soaking up the trickle of water that had been running in the gutter. I was mortified. “Oh, no, I wasn’t talking to you. Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

  When I dashed over to her and offered my hand, she took it, but she glared at me as I helped her to her
feet. “I really am sorry. I wasn’t blaming you. I was just…cursing fate or something. It’s been one of those days. This was my fault. I should have been paying attention to where I was going. I didn’t spill any coffee on you, did I? If I did, I’ll pay your dry-cleaning bill.”

  As the woman brushed herself off—it seemed I’d gotten the brunt of the spill, thankfully—I picked up her bag. It was as destroyed as my laptop. “I’m sorry. It looks like I’ve completely ruined your…”

  My voice trailed off as I looked at the soggy bag. I couldn’t tell what it held.

  The woman’s anger faded. I must have seemed beyond pathetic, red-faced and covered in coffee. She took the bag and sighed. “It’s all right. They were only scones.”

  I pulled a ten from my wallet. “Here. This should cover it. Sorry again.”

  She held up a hand to refuse the money. “No, it’s all right. They were day-old extras that I was going to drop off to the nice homeless man who sits in front of my building. I didn’t even pay for them. It’s not a tragic loss.”

  Slapping my hand over my face, I groaned again. Seriously? I’d just knocked a nice old woman to the ground and deprived a homeless man of his dinner? Could this day get any worse? I pushed the cash toward her. “I insist. I feel horrible about knocking you down, and I don’t want your homeless friend to go without dinner. Take this and buy him a hot meal. Please.”

  The old woman’s eyes narrowed in contemplation. Well, she wasn’t old, really. Maybe in her early sixties. I couldn’t say for sure, though. There was something about her that seemed timeless. Of Asian descent with only a slight accent, she was dressed in some kind of traditional Chinese silk blouse—that, thankfully, seemed to be mostly dry—and black dress pants. Her hair was pinned to her head with a small comb decorated with pearls. Her round cheeks had a healthy flush in them, and now that she wasn’t glaring at me, her eyes looked kind. I could tell she must have been quite the beauty in her younger days.

  She finally smiled and accepted the money. “Very well; if you insist. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  “I do.” I folded my sopping jacket over my arm. Sighing again, I slid my busted phone in my back pocket and added, “Something good should come of this day, for someone, at least.”

  Glancing at the café behind us, I shrugged one more time. “Sorry again. Have a nice evening.”

  I moved to step around the woman, and she turned as if following me into the café. I held the door open for her, managing an awkward smile, and she grinned back with a startling smile. She stopped in the doorway so I couldn’t move without letting the door close on her. “Do you believe in fate, young man?”

  “Uh…” Where had that come from? And why was she looking at me with a knowing, almost excited gleam in her eyes? “I’m sorry, what?”

  She slid her arm through mine and gently pulled me into the café, holding on tightly enough that I couldn’t escape her without knocking her to the ground again. “Before, you said you were cursing fate.” She stopped walking and looked right at me. “Do you really believe in fate?”

  I glanced around, almost looking for someone to rescue me. The guy standing behind the counter caught my panicked expression, and his eyes slid to the little Chinese woman clinging to my arm. He smirked as if he wasn’t surprised. My guess is that I wasn’t the first victim the old woman had latched onto.

  Great. The woman was nuts. Of all the people in the world, I had to run into a crazy lady. Granted, I was in New York City, but still, luck was really stacked against me tonight. “If there is such a thing as fate, I’d sure like to know what I did to make her hate me,” I muttered.

  The old lady laughed.

  “Pearl,” the guy behind the counter called out, amusement in his voice. “What’d the boss say about you harassing the customers?”

  Pearl rolled her eyes as she dragged me the last bit of distance to the counter. “Oh, you hush, Colin,” she chided. “I’m not harassing anyone. I just had a bit of an accident outside, and this nice young man offered to replace my baked goods.”

  The guy cocked an eyebrow in my direction. I shrugged, having no idea what to say. Yeah, I’d offered to replace the woman’s stuff, but how we’d ended up at the counter together, as if she were my grandmother taking me out to lunch, I had no idea.

  Colin took in the soaked jacket hanging from my arm and the stains on the front of my shirt. With another amused smile and a shake of his head, he slid his smirk to Pearl. “An accident?”

  My crazy companion glared at him. “I’ll need some new scones to go, and another cup of tea—for here this time. And a cup of tea for my new friend as well.”

  Colin snorted.

  It took me a moment to register what Pearl had said, and then I finally freed my arm from her grasp. “Oh, no, that’s okay.” I forced a smile at Pearl, trying to be polite. I assumed she was stable enough, considering the guy behind the counter wasn’t worried, but I didn’t really want to upset her and find out she was completely crazy. “Sorry, I can’t really…uh…sit for a cup of tea. I’m meeting someone. She’ll be here any minute.” Before Pearl could argue, I glanced at the guy behind the counter. “I don’t need any tea, thanks. I’m just going to grab a table. I’ll order when my girlfriend gets here.”

  Pearl’s eyes narrowed the tiniest bit at the mention of my girlfriend. I couldn’t fathom her interest, and I really didn’t want to find out, so I gave her one last hasty apology and retreated to a table in front of the window, where I could keep an eye out for Sophie.

  I shook my head as I sat down. New York City was full of the strangest people. My brothers loved it here, but I wasn’t sold on it yet. Too many people all crammed into much too tight a space. I had nothing against cities, but this one made me feel claustrophobic.

  With no sign of Sophie yet, I took my phone out of my pocket and tried to turn it on. Of course, it didn’t. “Beautiful.”

  Sighing for what felt like the bazillionth time that night, I set the phone down, propped my elbows on the table, and sunk my aching head into my hands. I stayed that way until a mug on a saucer was set on my table and slid toward me. Startled, I looked up to see Pearl sitting in the chair across from me. “Have some tea.” Her voice, and the look on her face, left no room for argument. “It soothes the nerves.”

  Not knowing what else to do, I sipped the tea and prayed Sophie would hurry up. The warm drink felt surprisingly good going down my throat. I hadn’t realized how twisted up my stomach was until the tea settled it. Slumping in defeat, I added a packet of sweetener to the tea and committed to the drink. Pearl sat back, watching me with a satisfied smile. “That’s better,” she said. “What’s your name, young man?”

  I couldn’t do the eyebrow-arching thing Colin had done to me, but if I knew how, I would have done it. Pearl sipped her own tea, waiting for my answer.

  “I’m Nathan.” I laughed once in disbelief when I answered her. I guess I was really doing this. I was about to have a cup of tea with a stranger at least three times my age. “Nate.”

  Pearl smiled again. “It’s nice to meet you, Nathan. Now tell me what has you so upset that you’re running over harmless old ladies on the sidewalk and cursing the fates.”

  Startled by her bluntness, my jaw fell slack. She lifted her chin and looked down her nose at me, but not in a haughty way. It was more of a stern I-mean-business-and-you-will-answer-my-question gesture. “Any young man who stares so hard at his shoes while he walks must have a lot on his mind.”

  When I didn’t answer right away, her smile softened. “Girl troubles?”

  I wish. Girl troubles would be a nice change. With a soft snort, I shook my head. “Family drama.”

  As she’d done before, Pearl quietly sipped her tea, waiting for me to elaborate. “It’s my brothers,” I muttered, as if she were pulling the words from me through sheer force of will. “They mean well, but they drive me crazy.”

  Pearl’s expression changed at my comment, turning vacant as she
drifted off deep into thought. Her reply was so quiet I almost didn’t hear her. “Family usually does.”

  A flash of sadness crossed her face, making it easy to believe she understood how I felt. It was comforting, and suddenly, with another sip of tea, I broke down and just started talking. I became Ethan Embry in the movie Can’t Hardly Wait. I was the guy so lost and depressed that I was wandering the city streets alone, spilling my drama to a complete stranger.

  In the movie, Ethan Embry’s character was upset over a girl he’d wanted for years. He was so desperate to change things that he was taking advice from a stripper on a street corner at 2:00 a.m. My problems weren’t girl problems, but I was still just like him. I’d had this same issue with my brothers for years, but never had the guts to do anything about it. They pushed, and I gave in to them. Every time. And now that I’d reached my limit, I was so desperate for a solution that I was giving my life’s history to a crazy old Chinese woman over tea, hoping she might have some answers.

  I take it back; she wasn’t the crazy one here. I was.

  Oddly enough, Pearl turned out to be a great listener. I began to relax and found it so easy to talk to her. After telling her about the laptop fiasco, I rewound and told her all about growing up with my brothers, and how I’d always been the odd man out.

  “Because choir wasn’t popular, and none of the cool kids were in it, when I joined, I met an all-new circle of friends that weren’t previously associated with my brothers. I got to be me for once, and not just one of The Anderson Triplets. I was actually called by my name instead of Runt for the first time in my life.

  “It made me realize that I was ready to branch out away from my brothers. I planned on experiencing college on my own. Chris and Tyler had talked about staying home and going to community college. It made sense, because we didn’t really have the money for much else. But I was desperate to get away, so one Saturday I snuck down to audition for a music scholarship here at NYU.”