Page 6 of Words I Couldn't Say
Holy crap. I just got a starring role.
“What?!” she gasped, her eyes rounding in amazement.
My head bobbed up and down in a slow, deliberate nod. I stared at her as the shock began to fade and reality set in. “A starring role in a Jonathan Myers film. Some book they’re making a movie.”
Tawni was an avid reader, so I wasn’t surprised when she asked, “Which book? I wonder if I’ve read it. This is so exciting!”
I racked my brain, trying to remember the details Martin had given me. “Umm…Those Three Words? And I’m playing someone called Abigail. Have you read it?”
“Oh. My. God. Shut up!” she exclaimed as she crossed her hands and held them over her heart.
“Umm, I guess that’s a yes?” I asked.
She leaped off the chair and launched herself at me. “That’s only like the best book ever!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and waving them like a lunatic. “Do you know how huge this is for you?! For your career?! Oh my god, you’re playing Abigail!TheAbigail,” she sighed as if Abigail were this generation’s Allie Hamilton.
Which would be completely fine by me, because if I had to admit to a girl crush, Rachel McAdams circa herThe Notebookdays would definitely rank high up on that list. Hence my overly watched copies ofAbout Time, The Time Traveler’s Wife,and, naturally,The Notebook.
My nose wrinkled. “Well, yeah, it’s my first major motion picture starring role. I appreciate the magnitude of it, Tawni.” I laughed, shaking my head that she’d even ask such a crazy question.
With her hands on my shoulders, she pushed back, staring at me. “No. I mean, HUGE. HUGE. Like, you’re on your way to becoming this generation’s Rachel McAdams.”
See? I knew it. Still, I laughed her off. “Okay, let’s not go that far. I haven’t even read the script. I know nothing about it. What if I don’t do this Abigail character justice? What if I hate it?”
Tawni rolled her eyes and then darted down the hall and into her room. Moments later, she reappeared, shoving an obviously well-read book into my hands. “Did Martin tell you nothing? This is the biggest book of the year. Heck, maybe even the decade. It’s so…incredible, Ava. You have no idea!” she exclaimed, sighing wistfully as a dreamy-eyed expression formed on her face.
To Tawni’s utter disappointment, I’d never been much of a reader. I’d always been more into romance on film rather than in books. So, while Tawni was often found with her e-reader or a worn paperback in her hands, I preferred spending my time at the theater or in front of the television. Therefore, when I studied the cover, I hadn’t the slightest clue who T.A. Bankman was other than the guy who had writtenThose Three Words—and who, per Martin, had signed on to write the screenplay for the movie. A good sign for any novel-to-film adaptation.
I blinked, which caused Tawni to release an exasperated sigh.
“Ava, girl, if you read one book in your entire life, it needs to be this one!” She paused, appraising my blank face. When she got nothing, she continued. “It’s incredible. It’s romantic. It broke my heart. I can’t remember the last time I cried so hard while reading a book. Itdestroyedme.”
“I don’t get it. Why do you want to be sad when you’re reading?”
“Why do you watchAbout Timeover and over again when you know you’re going to cry? It’s the same thing! Because it makes you feel! I don’t really know how to describe it. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s almost therapeutic, reading these stories and knowing that life isn’t perfect, not even in fiction. And this book? Gah! It killed me. Literally killed me.” Her eyes narrowed. “You better not ruin Abigail!”
I laughed. “I haven’t even read the script yet, Tawni, but I’ll do my best not to ruin your precious Abigail. And, if I need any help, I’ll make sure to ask you.”
“Are you going to read it? You must read it. Go to your room and don’t come out until you’re done!” she ordered playfully.
“I don’t know. I’d like to read the script fresh, but I’d also like to understand who this T.A. Bankman originally intended Abigail to be.”
“Well, keep it just in case. I wonder if you’ll get to meet him. That would be ah-mazing!” she exclaimed. “He’s so mysterious. He doesn’t do any interviews on camera, and no one knows who the man is behind the pen name.”
Tawni’s practically swooning over the man—if he even is a man—at this point.
I shrugged. “If I get the chance to meet him, I’ll be sure to get him to sign this for you,” I teased. Once again, I didn’t really get how star struck Tawni got over her favorite authors. To me, he was just a guy who had written the book that had inspired Jonathan Myers to hire me.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to do my research. Three hours later, I realized Tawni was right. T.A. Bankman was a complete and utter mystery. The Internet knew zilch about him, which was pretty shocking considering how voyeuristic we’ve become in the twenty-first century.
My gaze flicked to my bedside table, where Tawni’s copy of the book was sitting. The cover was beautiful, and the tagline was intriguing.
She never forgot her first love. He was counting on it.
The words hit far too close to home, but I couldn’t stop myself from reaching over, grabbing the book, and telling myself that I’d only skim through it.
Instead, I was instantly sucked into the beautiful, heartbreaking journey of Abigail and Trevor. Hours passed, dawn broke through, and after countless fallen tears and crushed tissues, I’d finally come to the painstaking end.
It wouldn’t quite be enough, but that was okay. Nothing ever would.
