Twenty-six
That night, we finish up at eight and pile into a rickety bus for an hour-long ride to a squat cement hotel where we’re put four to a room. I wind up with Nash and Tasha and Argin, another acolyte from their ashram. The three of them pass a joint around and tell repeating stories about reaching enlightenment. They offer the joint to me, but after the afternoon’s hash-fueled debacle with Yael, I don’t trust myself. Eventually, I fall asleep, but I’m woken up in the middle of the night to the enthusiastic squeaking of the bedframe. Nash and Tasha. Or maybe all three of them. It is extremely unpleasant—and it’s pathetic because I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.
The next day, on set, it’s more of the same. After I put on my suit, I see Prateek for half a second before he dashes off. “Must find more people,” he calls to me. “Three left yesterday. I need four today!” Neema evil-eyes me. The assistant director snaps another picture. They really are serious about the suit.
Late that afternoon Prateek returns with new recruits, including a leggy woman with reddish hair streaked through with pink.
“Jules!” Nash and Tasha scream when she arrives. They all hug and dance in a small circle and then Tasha waves me over.
“Jules,” she says. “This is Willem. We’ve decided he’s perfect for you.”
“Oh have you?” Jules rolls her eyes a bit. She is tall, not quite as tall as me, but nearly. “I’m Jules, but apparently you already know that,” she says.
“I’m Willem.”
“I like your suit, Willem.”
“You should. It’s a very special suit. So special they keep snapping my picture to make sure I don’t mess it up.”
“Clearly you’re a man who knows his way around a closet. I’m supposed to get into wardrobe. Show me where to go?”
“Glad to.”
She links an arm around mine as we walk to the racks. “So you met Nash and Tash, I see?”
“I had the pleasure of spending the night with them.”
She makes a face. “They had sex, didn’t they?”
I nod.
She shakes her head. “My condolences.”
I laugh at that.
“Well, I’m staying in the room with you tonight. I’ll try to even things out.” She gives me a look. “Not like that, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“All I’m thinking about is getting you into a dress,” I say.
“Really?” she asks. “Getting me into a dress?”
I laugh again. Jules has got her arm wrapped around mine, which is a pleasant distraction from the hangover I’ve had since yesterday’s fight with Yael. Girls have always been the best distractions.
Until a girl became the thing I needed distraction from.