Ctrl Z by Danika Stone Page B

to the waiter about the
selection of wines, finally choosing one based on the notes he’d described.
    “I didn’t know you knew so much about wine,” Jude laughed.
    Her face became a mask, the cool smile hiding whatever was
behind it.
    “Used to go to a lot of parties,” she said archly. “Had to
learn to talk the talk.”
    “What kind of parties?”
    “Just parties,” she replied, then excused herself to go to
the ladies’ room, ending the conversation.
    While they ate, they talked about the university and New Media,
and what she hoped to do once she graduated. When Indigo asked about Jude’s
plans beyond working in tech support, he laughed it off with a comment about
“being an entrepreneur”. With the Trojan project nearing completion, that was
about as close as Jude wanted to get to the truth.
    Once the dessert plates were whisked away and the bill
received, the two of them were left with drinks and nothing else. Jude stuck to
coffee, but Indigo had another glass of wine. She grew quiet, her eyes on the
white tablecloth, expression tight.
    “What’re you thinking about?” Jude asked.
    Her gaze flicked up, and she hid her expression under a
false smile. The veneer was unnerving. It reminded him of an old movie he’d
once seen, where the character’s actions were a little too exaggerated,
swinging in extremes from scene to scene.
    “Oh, just the film project,” she said. “That one that was
giving me trouble exporting.”
    “You still having troubles with the cache files?”
    “No,” she said. “Exporting the videos is coming along fine.”
    She didn’t explain.
    “So what’s the problem then?”
    Indigo turned to stare angrily out at the restaurant.
Suddenly she wasn’t the actress anymore – beautiful and inaccessible – but the
turbulent woman he’d met in the club last spring. The woman he couldn’t stop
thinking about, no matter what.
    “Indigo?”
    She shook her head and Jude slid his chair closer, until he
was at her side, rather than sitting across from her.
    “What did I say wrong?”
    He reached out, touching her arm but she jerked like she’d
been burned. She was breathing fast, her eyes glittering.
    “What’s going on?” Jude asked.
    “It’s an autobiography,” she answered sharply. “A film about
ourselves. But I don’t have any pictures from when I was a kid!”
    Jude waited for her to continue. She didn’t.
    “No pictures at all?”
    “Nope. No pictures, no videos. Nothing!” She spat the
last word out like something distasteful.
    The obvious question of why was on his tongue, but he
didn’t put it into words. Indigo glowered, her face lean and irritable. She looked
ready to bolt.
    “So why don’t you get something else?” he suggested. “Do it
like a documentary but from the point of view of the present.”
    Her lips pursed, untrusting.
    “What do you mean?”
    Jude leaned nearer, his fingers dropping down on top of hers,
half expecting her to pull away, but this time, for a reason he couldn’t guess,
she stayed still.
    “Make it like any old documentary you’d see about past
events,” he explained. “Use a voiceover and stuff. You’ll need to find some old
photos of the area where you grew up. I could come along with you and help you
get some updated footage if you’d like. We could film your house and stuff. I
know a bit about computers,” he added with a chuckle. “I could help you search
for pictures from the archives.”
    Indigo leaned in, her hand flipping underneath his fingers
so that they were now palm to palm. She was still pale, but her voice had
changed. Grown softer.
    “Why would you do that for me?”
    The pad of Jude’s thumb stroked over the side of her hand,
his breath catching.
    “Why wouldn’t I?”
    Indigo stared down at their hands on the table. She began to
worry her bottom lip with her teeth, marring the gloss. Jude tightened his
fingers around hers, leaning in so his mouth was against her ear.
    “You don’t let