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@selenagomez so, where would you like to hold the wedding? is on David's twitter the next day, and maybe Selena should be mortified, like, they're not even dating, but instead, it makes her smile.
And it's probably just a non sequitur or whatever, but she's feeling brave (or maybe stupid), so she tweets back:
@David_Henrie how about puerto rico? good memories there. And maybe it's not the smartest thing she's ever done, because joking about getting married? Is not exactly what most guys want to hear, even if he's the one who started it. Plus, they're about to start filming, which means she's going to have to see him, and it takes her about ten seconds after the tweet shows up to start seriously regretting her decision.
So, maybe she'll just delete it or something, and no-one will be the wiser.
Except, of course, it's about ten seconds after that before it gets reposted, so this whole thing has probably been taken out of her hands, if it was ever in her hands to begin with.
(And she'd really like to say she doesn't spend the next three hours debating whether she should call him and laugh the whole thing off, but.)
@selenagomez sounds good to me, private bikini contest?
She spends about five minutes staring at that, because, really, she can't believe he even posted it. The people in charge check these things, she's pretty sure, and he got in enough trouble over that whole incident that she's surprised he'd bring it up, not to mention what the rest of it implies. (And there's no part of her staring that has anything to do with her considering the offer, no way.)
And then she waits five hours before tweeting back, because the last thing she wants to look like is some crazy internet stalker, even if, like, she knows him or whatever.
@David_Henrie you wish.
There. Totally innocent (or at least she has plausible deniability if somebody takes it the wrong way - or the right way, she's not quite sure), but not an outright rejection, maybe. (And maybe, just maybe, she's spent way too much time thinking about this.)
And then she spends the next forty-five minutes goofing off on the internet, definitely not checking his twitter for updates, so she's a little surprised when she gets a message on her phone, instead.
I do.
Only three letters, but, yeah, she can see why he wouldn't post that publicly, where everybody and their overzealous manager can read it. And suddenly, she really has no idea what game they're playing any more, because three letters shouldn't be enough to make her stomach churn uncomfortably and her heart feel like it's about to pound out of her chest.
Is he serious? He can't possibly be serious, she decides. It's a joke, like it has been from the beginning, and it doesn't mean anything that he texted her instead, only that it's a little risqué, even as a joke, for him to say it in public.
And she doesn't want him to be serious, anyway, like, she so does not have a crush on her co-star. No way. Because that would be ... cliché, and awkward, and a really, really bad idea.
So, really, she has no idea why she texts back to say, maybe if you play your cards right ...
-
It takes him nearly a day to text her back, and she's sure she must have crossed the line. Because obviously he was just joking, and so was she, but maybe he doesn't know that, maybe -
Gimme a hint? PLZ i'm begging you.
So, okay, maybe she didn't cross the line. Honestly, she has no idea where the line even is any more; she used to, she's pretty sure, she had a clear picture of it in her head, only that's a line they crossed a while back, and the one still in front of them, if there still is one, is hazy and out of focus.
And maybe she should put a stop to this, like, right now. That seems like the smart thing to do (and, okay, it would have been a lot smarter yesterday, but, bygones), the thing she should do, but -
Well, it's harmless, right? And it's not like he's even in the same country, so.
bring me back something nice, she sends, and really, she expects that to be the end of it.
-
He gets back from London, and - it's a joke, right? - she asks, "What did you get me?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" he asks, and, okay. That doesn't mean anything. He was probably going to get her something anyway, he knew he'd be coming back here for filming, and they're friends, so.
It doesn't mean anything.
Anyway, the big surprise gift turns out to be a keyring with an English flag on it, so that's hardly something you get for a girl you like. And she swallows the (brief, she swears) flash of disappointment, because, more than anything, she's happy to know where she stands.
Joke, prank, whatever. Bygones.
"I love it," she says, and manages an actual smile, but then he leans in (and nobody's watching them, now, not like a moment ago, and maybe that's important), and -
"I got you something else."
So. She swallows around the big lump in her throat, breathe, Selena, and tries not to notice his hand on her waist.
"Well?" she asks, after a minute.
"It's, um," he says, and it's not, it's really not, like David to be shy. And they're tiny things, all of them, but they're all adding up in her head to something way bigger than the two of them. "I'll give it to you later."
She flubs two of her lines (only when he's in the scene), and the director doesn't look mad so much as confused. They just won an Emmy, she has an album, she's better than this.
She can feel David's eyes on her all the way across the room.
-
So she's in his trailer, and the thing is, she's been in his trailer before. Like, a lot. So she doesn't know why this time, it feels like she shouldn't be.
"Close your eyes," he says, and this is more like him, more like them.
She does, because she trusts him, and because the butterflies in her stomach have nothing to do with this at all.
(She's just. Ignoring them, okay?)
She opens her eyes again when he puts something in her hands, and -
"A bikini?"
So maybe this doesn't exactly qualify as something nice (okay, it is a nice bikini, she's just saying), but it qualifies as something. And he's a guy, so.
"Yeah," he says, and she wonders when it happened, but she can read his expression perfectly. And right now he's about to shut down, go into denial, whatever else it is that happens infrequently enough that she hadn't even realise she'd catalogued it.
And - maybe this is him, putting himself out there? In kind of a stupid way, like, private bikini contest is not actually that romantic, but, guy. And maybe she can cut him some slack, or maybe -
Maybe she should walk away, right now (definitely she should walk away), because this is maybe bad for their careers, maybe definitely bad for them. Never date your co-star, she's heard it often enough, and never date your co-star who plays your brother shouldn't even have to be said. (But it has been. A lot. So, there's that.)
But maybe she, you know. Maybe she likes him, even if it's cliché, and awkward, and a really, really bad idea.
So she kisses him. Just on the cheek, or it's supposed to be, but maybe she's just bad at this, or maybe David turns -
Anyway, she realises she was wrong. He's nothing like her brother.
"I figured you could wear it," he says -
(At least a couple of minutes later, not that she was counting, but wow.)
- "in Puerto Rico."
