Casting Debbie

Chapter 9

Debbie sat cross-legged on Lou's bed, looking rather anxious as she sipped her coffee. Lou took a final bite of the omelet and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I feel like such a klutz eating left-handed."

"That's because you are a klutz." Debbie tucked the towel she'd used to soak up spilled orange juice behind her. "When we find you a real girlfriend, she'll have to like your money because ambidexterity sure isn't a selling point."

Lou laughed and attempted to hit Debbie with her napkin. "Fuck you."

"Never." Debbie winked.

"Well, your next real girlfriend can love you for your cooking. That omelet was-"

"Stop messing with me. Just tell me," Debbie interrupted.

Lou tried to hide her amusement, her lips curling up at the corners. She knew Debbie was going all kinds of crazy, wondering if Lin had liked her idea. Getting on a prime-time show would change everything for her, even if it turned out to be a short-term gig. Lou cleared her throat and pursed her lips together, trying to look serious. "He didn't like your pitch."

"He didn't?" Debbie's shoulders fell. "Dammit," she whispered.

"No. He didn't like it at all."

"I thought for sure..."

Lou held back a giggle. She wanted to keep up the charade, but Debbie looked so downtrodden she just didn't have the heart. "He didn't like it, he loved it."

Debbie's eyes widened. "You are such an asshole!" she said, throwing the wet towel at Lou.

Lou burst out giggling. "Sorry. Your face, though."

"Shut up. So, for real? And you like the idea too?"

"It's the sixth season. We need to shake things up a bit, so this is kind of perfect."

The idea wasn't just growing on Lou, she was fully embracing it. Debbie was right-Lou wouldn't have to make such a big deal of her coming out process, and that alone would lift a huge weight off her shoulders. If this worked, it would be seamless. No interviews, just a natural process that would slowly unfold in front of America's eyes. It was brilliant.

"Can you make sure they give the part to me and not someone else?" Debbie asked.

Lou sensed the fear and insecurity in Debbie's voice, afraid that she'd somehow be left out of the equation. It was understandable, since it happened all the time in Hollywood. Actors were at the mercy of directors and producers and their little whims. One day, you're their favorite and the next, you don't have a job.

"Don't worry about that," Lou said, trying to reassure her. "They'll think they're doing me a favor by casting you in a few episodes. After that, it's up to us to get the audience invested in looks that linger a little too long and banter that seems just a bit too flirty."

"So, you're all in?" Debbie waited expectantly for an answer.

Lou gave her a nod. "Yeah. All in."

"YAY!" Debbie shouted as she threw herself back on the bed and kicked her legs in the air. She sat back up and jumped off the bed. "I'll be right back." She came back in the room a few seconds later holding a black marker in her hand.

"Um..." Lou tilted her head. "What do you plan on doing with that?"

"I'm going to sign your cast. Who knows, my autograph might be worth something someday."

"Uh, no." Lou covered her cast with her other arm. "I've seen how you sign your name. Your autograph sucks."

Debbie sat on the bed and took the cap off the marker. "Come on, Lou. I had a cast when I was eleven and all my friends signed it. If you have a signature-less cast, people might think you have no friends."