Open When I'm Gone

16. Happiest Year.

I wake up a few weeks after Thanksgiving to a text from Jolie.

My parents want to meet you. Dinner at my place at 5:30?

My heart picks up speed to a million miles per hour as I pick up my phone to text her back.

Why do her parents want to meet me? Did Jolie tell them about the casting? Or about my attempt and how she saved me?

Maybe I'm just her friend, and she wants me to be a part of her daily life in a bigger way. Maybe she just cares.

Yup! I'll be there!

I glance at the clock, seeing I only slept in till about noon. I have time.

A smile forms on my face as I stumble out of bed, fluffing my bedhead hair before stumbling down the stairs.

My mom and Ryann are sitting at the kitchen counter when I come down the stairs. I catch the words 'Date' and 'different' before they see me and bring their conversation to a seizing halt.

"Good morning, Simon!" My mom smiles at me, taking a spoonful of soup as she talks.

"What are you two still doing here?" I press, sliding onto the bench at the counter next to Ryann.

"We both had the day off of work so we were going to go do some Christmas shopping." Ryann puts in, "Would you like to come with us?

"Is Abby coming?" My mom wordlessly slides me two pieces of toast, giving me a pleading look as I talk. I grimace at the food, my stomach rolling as I take a bite of the oily mess.

She shakes her head, "Didn't she tell you about her date today?"

The feeling of a record scratch slides through my brain, alarms going off on every part of my mind. "She was going on a date?"

They both nod simultaneously, my mom obviously not noticing my obvious confusion as she tells me, "Yeah, she's been talking to this guy for a while! I'm surprised you haven't heard her talk about him."

But she's right, I haven't.

I can't even remember the last time Abby and I had a real conversation, at least one where one of us didn't end up storming off.

Ever since Eddy died... I haven't even really talked to Abby. Every time she tries, she always ends up blowing a fuse and leaving.

"Yeah," I sigh shakily, taking another bite of my toast, "I must have missed that."

***

I slick my hair back for the twentieth time, two extra stubborn curls sticking up from my scalp as if their only job is to become the bane of my existence.

I check the time as I take another pinch on hair gel, smearing it over my flyaways. 5:00. I have to leave here in ten minutes and I am so far from ready.

I cannot screw this up. This has to be absolutely perfect.

I have to be absolutely perfect.

I don't know why though. It's not like she's my girlfriend and I have to impress her parents, it's just Jolie. Just my friend.

My friend who makes my heart flutter. My friend who I've thought about kissing since we rehearsed for callbacks.

But not in a romantic way, just like a professional show way. I have to think about it, it's part of our roles in the show.

I can't screw this up.

Finally, I get my hair to all stick down. But my hands begin to shake as I try to tie my tie.