Everything Leads to You

“See?” Rebecca pokes his shoulder. “He was afraid you were too young.”


I shrug. “Yeah, I get that.”

“But Morgan said you were strong willed. She’s very confident about you. We tried to hire her. She was in a seminar I taught when I was in grad school, and I’ve always loved her work. But she’s double-booked as it is. So I asked her for a recommendation and she told me about you.”

“I’m grilling you because I need someone who won’t be afraid of me,” Theo says.

“Are you the director?”

“Yes, I am. Rebecca is producing.”

“And you need a . . . ?”

I don’t want to make a fool out of myself if what they’re looking for is an intern and what I say is something much more prestigious. I’m hoping they’ll say it’s a set dresser job. It would take me years to get that position in a studio, but it might be possible that a small film would take a chance on someone like me.

“Production designer,” Rebecca says.

“What?” I say.

“Well,” Theo says, “basically, your job would be art department.”

“You could hire one person to help you,” Rebecca adds. “But I know that isn’t much. It’s a huge job. A huge job. And the pay is disgraceful, and we begin shooting in four weeks.“

“Four weeks?”

“Afraid so. But we would give you so much creative freedom.”

“Here,” Rebecca says. “Take the screenplay. Just give it a read and see if it speaks to you.”

I don’t even say anything. I just take the screenplay out of her hands and open to the title page. Yes & Yes, by Rebecca Golden and Theo Fitzgerald. And seeing their names there floods me with gratitude. I am touched. This is their film, their money, their effort of love, and they are willing to trust me with so much if I say yes.

“I’ll read it,” I say. “I’ll read it tonight.”

“I hope you enjoy it,” Rebecca says.

“Of course she’ll enjoy it,” Theo says. “Can’t you see? She’s our kind of people. She has the love.”

~

For some reason, I don’t tell Charlotte. As soon as I walk into the apartment I slip my bag, with the screenplay inside, in the corner of Toby’s living room and then I join her on the patio where she’s staring at her computer screen.

“What are you working on?”

“I’m enrolling for classes,” she tells me.

“What are you taking?”

“A bunch of GE stuff. But also Intro to Museum Studies.”

“So fun,” I say. But I really thought Charlotte would switch over to film studies once I got her the job at the studio. I thought “the love,” as Theo put it, would be contagious, especially since Char is so good at everything she does and has the perfect mind for the production side of filmmaking. But I guess her attention to detail and impeccable social graces will serve her well in the museum world.

“You’re already registering?”

“I leave in a month and a half.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Don’t you need to pick your classes soon?”

“Probably.” I shrug.

“You should know when your registration date is.”

“Yeah, I’ll look it up.” Everything seems less urgent for me since I’m staying in LA for school, and now, with the fantasy of a production design job hovering within reach, school almost feels unnecessary. But I know it’s not. I know it’s going to open the world up in a new way. Soon I’ll be able to sit with my parents and watch TV, well schooled in all of their critical theories. It will be nice to keep up with them. And I’ll learn so much more about the history of film and production design. I’m not naive enough to imagine that I know all there is to know about how films are made.

Still, I don’t want the summer to end so soon.

“Have you thought about what we should do with the apartment?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says. “But I can’t come up with anything epic enough.”

“I know,” I say. “It sucks. Let’s go get tacos and sit on the beach.”

So, after Charlotte finishes her college stuff, we walk to our favorite food truck, and then head to the ocean, dodging roller bladers and skaters and bicyclists, kicking off our sandals at the edge of the sand and making our way to an open, welcoming spot to eat and watch the sun set over the ocean.

“What’s even in Michigan anyway,” I say to her. “Lakes? So what.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” she says.

We hear a buzzing and both of us reach for our phones. Morgan hasn’t texted me in three days. My screen is blank.

“Look,” Char says, and holds hers out to me.

This is Ava. Are you and Emi free tomorrow? I have something to show you!

“Tell her yes,” I say.

“Should we have her come to Venice again?”

“Sure,” I say. And then I change my mind. “No, actually. Let’s meet at the Marmont!”

Charlotte laughs and shakes her head.

“The Marmont. Okay. Something tells me that’s not the kind of place Ava usually goes.”

I snatch Charlotte’s phone away and type, Meet us at the Chateau Marmont. Sunset and Havenhurst. Hollywood.