This Is My Brain in Love - I. W. Gregorio Page 0,102

Of course, it’s not going to be fancy Chinatown dim sum, either. That’s a different thing entirely, not that most of the people here in Utica are that familiar with that. A-Plus isn’t quite ‘Authentic’ with a capital ‘A,’ but it’s real food made by real people, like Jocelyn’s grandmother, who loves to cook. What I’m hoping viewers will see in this video is the sense of family that you get in the restaurant. That love. I mean, that single shot you took of everyone sitting around after the day, eating? Wow.”

As I talk, Priya stares at me with an intensity that has me worrying if I have something on my face, but she smiles when I mention the tracking shot, and blushes. “Jocelyn didn’t tell me you were a film nerd, too.”

“Oh, God, I’m totally not. I just remember her pointing out that technique in something we watched together. She says I watch too many superhero movies and is trying to reeducate me,” I explain. “Anyway, what I’m trying to do is make the viewer love A-Plus as much as we do.”

“So, I’m not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I put something together really quickly using the vids you sent me.” She clicks on a new file, which opens up into a longer video that she’s cobbled together with some music in the background. Except the music isn’t at 100 percent volume, so you can still hear the sounds of the restaurant. It’s amazing.

“That’s fantastic!” I say, and I’m so excited I lean over to cover Priya’s hand with my own. Priya beams. “What you did with the overlay and the cuts is exactly what I—”

And then another déjà vu moment:

Crack

I’m sure it’s a gunshot at first and break away from Priya. It takes just a fraction of a second for a vise to close around my chest, and the world closes around me.

CrackCrackCrack

The sound is too close, and I realize it’s someone pounding on the Venkatrams’ window with something hard, like a rock. My hands are already up, the gesture automatic. Because if my mother has told me once, she’s told me a thousand times: Always remember to show my hands.

Then my eyes focus on the figure outside—it’s dusk, so it takes a second to parse out the person’s features from the reflection of what’s inside.

“Jocelyn?” Priya calls out, squinting.

After a second, I can see it, but I can understand why it took me so long to figure it out. Because it’s Jocelyn like I’ve never seen her before: mouth twisted downward, eyes pinched as if in pain, forehead knotted up as if she’s going to cry.

Vaguely, I’m aware of my watch buzzing, warning me that my heart rate is elevated.

Five seconds in, five seconds out.

That’s about how long it takes for Priya to drag Jocelyn in through their side door, and it’s not enough time. I’m still a hyperventilating yard sale, a fully activated fight-or-flight system at your service.

“Hey, are you okay?” Priya is saying to Jocelyn. Priya’s got her hand out, as if to steady her, but Jocelyn shies away and ignores her question. Instead, she turns to me, and I greet her with joy the way I always do, but then feel my smile crumbling when she doesn’t smile back.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice like a slap.

“We’re just going over some of the footage. I… I had some ideas for a video to put on the website. Kind of like a trailer.”

Jocelyn’s face curls in on itself even more. “You guys didn’t even bother looping me in?” Her voice breaks at the end of the sentence, and the disappointment there triggers my Mayday response.

“Well, you… you seemed busy,” I stutter. “Preoccupied.”

“How would you know? You haven’t even seen me for more than ten seconds in the past two days.” It comes out like an accusation, and the way my mind works, of course I grind myself down with what I must have done wrong. I should have reached out. I was wrong to give her space. If I had been real boyfriend material, I wouldn’t have let her push me away.

“But that’s okay,” she continues. “I understand. After all, Priya is so talented and I’m such a loser.” The words are meant as a sneer but the pain behind them is so obvious, they don’t have an edge.

“Hey. Hey, Jos, don’t do this,” Priya interjects gently.

“Do what?”

“That thing you do…” Jocelyn stiffens and Priya stops herself,