Day 20: 33,505 Words

I've managed to keep writing, even though we've been on the road and I haven't had much time. What I'm writing now isn't very interesting, I feel, but it's getting things moving! And this year, more than ever, I'm valuing quantity over quality. 

So, here is the conflict that will get in the way of Isla and Theo's relationship. 

'“Did I tell you about what Abigail was doing the other night? I guess I didn’t, since I had my hands full here with Don Cherry tapes.”

Theo visibly shuddered. He hadn’t been in Canada long—only for the months where Portman’s Complaint was running— but even he knew that Don Cherry was garbage.

“So, she was walking to the studio one day when some guy named Gareth Bale kicked a soccer ball at James van der Beek?” Isla said uncertainly.

It was as if Theo jolted. Isla had his full attention.

“Gareth Bale? Do you mean, uh, Garth Ball?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Isla said impatiently. “Not only did Garth Ball come over and introduce himself to her, but the rest of the cast of some movie called Space Jam: Futbolista was there too? And then she went out with them for dinner.”

“With Herlock Sholmes, England midfielder?” Theo said, pumping his fist in the air. 

“Probably,” Isla continued. “Well more importantly, she hit it off with some Spanish footballer. I think she said his name was Fernando Torres.”

“Wait,” Theo said, practically shouting. Isla shushed him. “Do you mean to tell me that your sister went on a date with Fernando Torres?” 

“If that’s his name, then yes.”

“Liverpool’s number nine?” Theo said, even louder.

“I assume. I don’t know what his shirt number is.”

“I can’t believe this,” Theo said, shaking his head. “I’m too old to have posters of athletes up in my room. But if I did, I would have a Fernando Torres poster. He’s a god back in Liverpool.”

“Wait, really?” Isla asked. “I hadn’t heard of him. I thought he was just big in Spain or something.”

“Isla, Isla, Isla!” Theo shook his head even more vigorously. “He’s obviously a god in Spain. But he’s Liverpool’s number nine!”

“Yes, I gathered that,” Isla said with a hint of irritation.

“A number nine is the team’s striker, or centre forward. They’re usually the team’s top goal scorer. Fernando Torres plays for my hometown Liverpool team, and he’s been a hero for us. He scored the game winning goal in last year’s Champion’s League Final.”

“I figured he was famous, since he’s in Space Jam: Futbolista. I didn’t know that you liked him, though!”

“I don’t like him. I love him.”

Isla had never seen Theo acting like this. He seemed almost like a child, holding a candy cane while supporting himself on a coffee table on Christmas morning. 

“Well, your guy and my sister have some kind of thing going. I don’t know exactly what it is, but they’ve spent a bunch of time together in Toronto and she is going to Liverpool next week to visit him.”

“She’s visiting him. In Liverpool!” Theo was so excited about this news that he was just repeating things that Isla was saying.

“That’s what she’s told me,” Isla replied. 

“How much would you judge me if I told you that I’m really jealous of your sister?”

“I wouldn’t judge you at all,” Isla laughed. “It’s kind of a dream come true nor anyone. He’s flying her out and everything. Falling for a rich guy that can fly you first class to Europe sounds like it was a good move for her.”

“Indeed,” Theo said with a small smile.

Isla cursed herself for saying something to stupid. Her and Theo had been going on dates and spending evenings together, but they hadn’t really talked about whether they were dating or not. It had been hanging awkwardly in the air in a lot of their recent interactions. Even more awkward was the fact that James van der Beek knew about their relationship—whatever it was—and her sister didn’t. She just hadn’t wanted to tell her sister until she knew that there was something to tell. 

“Well maybe I can’t fly you first class to Europe, but I hope that you’ll be finding your way over there sometime, too,” Theo said.

Isla looked at him quizzically. 

“I’m heading back there after the run of Portman’s Complaint ends. My agent booked me a couple of auditions and I’m hoping to stay in London for a while.”

“Oh,” was all that Isla could come up with to say. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Theo trialed off. They sat in silence for a while, not sure what to say.

“I’ve really enjoyed being in Niagara-on-the-Lake, but there aren’t really any parts for me here after this,” he said.

“Totally,” Isla said, too quickly. “I totally get that. Totally.”

Theo looked at her appraisingly. He could sense that she wasn’t happy that he was leaving, but couldn’t say it. Or wouldn’t say it. 

“Well, I totally understand wanting to get back across the pond,” Isla said awkwardly. She wanted to kick herself again. Why would she say that? It sounded stupid in her head, and even more stupid when it came out of her mouth. Fortunately, Theo was too nice to be mean about it.

 

“Maybe you and Abigail will go together sometime? I would love to see you if you’re there.”

It was now Isla’s turn to appraise Theo. She couldn’t tell if he wanted her to visit him, to see him, or to visit him when she happened to be in the neighbourhood. One was a lot more of an invitation than the other. One would have made her feel a lot better about everything they had shared than the other. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Isla finally said. If she didn’t know what he meant, she was just going to go down the middle.

“I guess I should be getting home,” Theo said, standing up and finishing his mug of tea. 

“Sure, yeah,” Isla said sadly, wishing that he would stay. Stay now, or stay longer, she wasn’t sure. 

“By the way,” he said turning back to her, “the production is having a party on Saturday for the end of the run. It’s also a bit of a going away party for me. I would love if you could come.”

“It’s not hosted by the Jack Kerouac School of Experimental Disembodied Vineyardry, is it?” Isla said with a shudder.

“Fortunately, it is not,” Theo said happily. “I hope to put a lot of distance between me and those drunk teenagers.”

“Fair enough. Moving to England doesn’t seem far enough.”

“A chilling thought,” Theo said. He kissed Isla’s cheek and turned towards the door. 

Isla smiled at him weakly.

“Will you come on Saturday?” he asked her again.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Good. I’m hoping to see you before I leave.”

“Yeah, totally. Glad you can fit me in,” Isla said sadly. Sadder than she had intended, given that she was trying to give off a very cool demeanor. The demeanor of someone who didn’t care all that much that what she was hoping was the start of a promising relationship was probably just going to be a summer fling. 

That’s all that she was to him, apparently. A fling. Someone to go to a vineyard with and laugh at the celebrities and their feuds with each other and with the drunk teenagers who worked and hung out there. A person who he wanted to fit in before he left to go to England. A person who would maybe pop by if she happened to be in England; because people from Canada just happened to be in England all the time. 

She couldn’t be mad at him. They had only known each other for a few weeks. They hadn’t talked about a future together, or moving forward with their relationship. They had just texted each other a lot, saw each other at one point on most days, and had invited each other places like vineyards and parties and restaurants.

All that was left was for Isla to feel disappointed. And she did. After the high of watching The Rock and Vin Diesel reconcile, Isla was feeling really low.