Quiet

Chapter 17 - Joel's Confession

Everything with my father was great right after the interview with Yuri Kameyama, and I want to believe him, not Cynthia. When I get home, I send her a message: Awesome inner thighs, girl! What workout is that?

Over the next few days, I go with Margot and my father to television shows and other media events, but I don't participate. We observe from the sidelines. People probably think I'm Margot's assistant, but I'm comfortable being invisible in the center of the action. That's me, probably forever.

Margot tells me that Brian Keating will get a private tour of my father's photography show next week, so I ask if I can join her, and she agrees. If Cynthia's right about them, I'll deal with it when the time comes.

Cynthia's too passionate and possibly unstable, but I'm still into her as a friend, if she ever wants. Because I need to be more passionate. And crazier. The more I think about her performance - throwing her panties at me! - the funnier it gets. If she's right about my father and Brian Keating, she nailed it. In a weird way, I admire her. If she's wrong, oh well, nothing amazing happens without taking a risk.

I don't get a response from Cynthia, but I hear from Joel. We agree to roller skate one morning before a crowd fills the rink. I'll confront him about my father then. I must, if I want to be stronger.

***

When I grab the passenger door of the rental car, Joel reaches over with one of his bare, muscular arms and unlocks it. His eyes don't stay on my face, but mine don't stay on his either. I jump in, feeling that maybe he does like me.

He wears a red T-shirt and light green shorts with dark green leaf designs. I adored Joel from afar, and I adore Joel up close. I want to tousle his thick black hair and touch his muscular legs. When he smiles, which he does a lot, his cheeks rise up and narrow his eyes, and that kills me.

Even though it's another missed school day, my mother doesn't argue about a date with an heir to half a billion dollars. Being semi-famous, it makes sense he wants to skate before noon on a school day and avoid a crowd.

"You look great," he says.

His compliment goes to my head more than it should. My metallic green skirt is not for the faint of heart, but I can't compete with curvy sex pots like Cynthia. My lack of confidence is more about what's inside. Certain boys will never like my body, some will, but no boy will fall for a mousy coward.

But I still don't rush the conversation to my father. As Joel drives, I decide to skate first. If his next movie has a good script, it should do well, because his acting obviously didn't ruin the last ones. Joel looks and acts like someone who wants to be with me. He's a great pretender. "Are you in Tokyo to work on a movie?" I say.

He shakes his head. "No." Then everything about him lights up, even his skin. "But that's okay. The best thing about Tokyo right now is you. Without you, this trip would suck."

I love that. I flop around on the seat, first toward him, then away, because I don't believe what I'm hearing. During all that, my hip bangs into him. "But I'm not your type," I say.

"You are." He clamps his hand over his heart. "Am I yours?"

To hide my goofy smile, I bury my face against the door. He pats my hip, which makes me remember my short metallic skirt and what might show, so I spring up and press my cheek into his shoulder. "I have no types yet."

He uses one hand to drive and puts his other arm around me.

"Sorry for being weird," I say. "I'm acting like Sophia."