A boy and a girl binge watch their favorite sitcom about a boy and a girl.
As both stories progress and grow more complicated, similarities seem to arise and the lines between reality and television begin to blur. Is art imitating life or is life...
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By the time we get to the season one finale, it's past noon. We're behind schedule.
"At this rate we won't even finish," I moan, losing faith in our binge watching abilities. We only have three days before his summer job starts and watching two seasons a day becomes an impossibility.
"How late is your mom letting you stay?" he challenges, eyes glint-y and super serious. It's like this is a matter of honor to him.
"Umm, she says I have to be home by eleven tonight."
"Beg for twelve."
"This is my mom we're talking about," I remind him, because duh,"There's no way."
"Do it. While we're on commercial break call her."
"This is a DVD so. . ."
"Well, then ask her in between seasons!" his voice goes into courtroom-drama sanctioned hysterics, "For the love of all good TV shows ask her!"
Before I can say anything, he's grabbed my shoulders and I feel like I'm sitting backwards in one of those massage chairs. He keeps shaking until all the tightness evaporates from my gut and I can't contain a stray giggle.
"Okay," I clear my throat to try and swallow some of the laughter, "Okay. Let's just watch the show right now."
"Good." In a blink, he's back to his professional grade television watching position—whole body drawn towards the TV like a sunflower to the sun.
I smile at his dorky-ness when he isn't looking.
On screen, Noah is back in town after an extended absence from the show. I, like any other decent fan, know that the actor who portrayed him was working on a big production in London, but came back when he was done.
Frankly, the show isn't as good when he's gone. It makes the last half of the first season a little hard to get through because Lila keeps hopping back and forth between friends, jobs, and guest-star romantic interests. She's always a good character, but when Noah leaves it's like she's missing something.
Which makes it even better when he comes back.
"Lila!" he calls when he spots her waiting in baggage claim.
She runs up to hug him, and looks impossibly comfortable standing on her tiptoes, enveloped in those long noodle arms.
"I really missed you," she says, eyes closed, smile wide.
"I missed you more," he responds. Anyone can see that he's telling the truth.
"We've got a lot to catch up on." Gently, Lila removes herself and tugs Noah out the door, one hand occupied with his and the other with his suitcase.
When the scene goes black I say, "Finally. We're getting to good stuff again."
"You mean you don't like watching Lila's writing career die and come back to life more times than Superman?" he teases, for the first time pushing his messed up hair out of his face.
"Not particularly."
"Hey, remember when it was announced that Noah was coming back, and you flipped out in class when you checked Twitter?"
I smile sheepishly at the memory. "Yeah, I guess you saved my butt that day."
"No thanks necessary. Besides, its worth it that Mr. Fennigan actually believed me when I said it was an asthma attack." His eyebrows practically do the worm now.
"You aren't a real fan until the hyperventilation starts," I try to defend myself.
"Riight." Even though he lets it slide uncontested, we both know the comeback was too weak to really count.
On TV, Lila is explaining the events of the past few months to Noah—essentially retelling the highlights of the season.
Noah gives a low whistle, "You've been busy."
She shrugs it off, "I guess."
"Well, I haven't really done much. Just the acting thing. But I've got some good news for you."
She perks up some, but doesn't seem to be expecting much.
Noah keeps going, "You remember that parent company that funded the show I was in? Well, they're looking for a writer for this new production and, y'know, you've got some experience. . . I think you can get the job."
A smile breaks across Lila's face like dawn breaks across the dusky sky. Cinematically.
"Only one problem," Noah continues, and Lila's smile turns a little glassy, "It's in New York."
They share a look that is literally in the dictionary beside the word 'happy' (or at least in the limited edition copy of Lila's Artfully Abridged Thesaurus, an interesting way the creators found to squeeze every penny out of her fictional occupation) and Lila finally says, "I think we can work with that."
The credits roll and the theme song plays and I take a minute to let the finale sink in for the millionth time. Tears roll down my face and my heart is threatening to float away.
"Okay quick!" he leaps up and grabs the second season DVD, forcing me back to the real world, "Call your mom!"
"Fine, I'm moving. It's not easy, but I'm moving," When I get up, I stretch slothfully (no kidding), thankful that my legs aren't asleep this time.
"Oh, and hey," he says, looking up from the DVD player to address me, "I think it's cool that you have asthma attack like fangirl symptoms. Not everyone let's themselves enjoy stuff that much. What's the point of liking something if you don't let yourself love it, right?"
There's not even a trace of snark in his face.
What even?
"Ok, so far I'm not dumb, have decent ideas, and can enjoy some things. Any more glowing praise?" I try my best to be annoyed, but the corners of my eyes and lips won't cooperate.
"It's kind of an in the moment thing," he responds, fumbling to get the DVD into the disc reader, "Now call your mom already!"
"Going. I'm going." Confounded, I toss a look his way, but he isn't looking back.
I have known him longer than most anyone and still can't figure him out.
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Hi again! Thanks for reading the second chapter!
So, what do you think? That's not a rhetorical question, I'd love to hear thoughts. If you liked it, please vote and say so in the comments!
Since I have this written in advance, I'm bumping the next installment up to Wednesday. If that works out then this might become a twice-weekly update kind of thing. Long story short, come back Wednesday for Episode 3!
