Misfit Theater Company 2

17. Red Herring

My pumpkin spice latte cools while I wait for Gina to show up. Mom's shopping at the stores in this strip mall while I keep my word to Gina about hanging out for coffee, but she's late. I'm not super surprised or mad about it, since I almost chickened out and told my mom to leave me at home before I eventually took a breath and got in the car. I open my YouTube app to keep me occupied while I wait.

Sean texted all of us to let us know the video from last night was up on their channel, and since I know that—at this very moment—Patti and her parents are getting on the plane to LAX, I decide to watch it and reminisce. I already miss her, which I made sure to let her know when I texted her before I left my house.

Janie (1:32pm): I cant believe your actually going. I'm going to miss you soooooooo much. I'm so happy for you, but theater isnt gonna be the same without you.

She replied with ten crying face emojis.

Patti (1:33pm): I can't believe it either, and I'm so sad, but so excited. I love you all so much. I hope this is all going to be worth it.

I open our video on Sean and Emma's channel and watch Patti act as the party host for the first scene. She's funny and talented and quick. Of course her trip to Hollywood will be worth it. I'm just going to miss my friend.

In my peripheral vision, I see someone approach my table, so I look up. It's Gina, with new maroon hair, most likely in honor of the fall. She does that sometimes, dyes her hair based on the season.

"Cute hair," I greet her.

"Thanks," she says, a bit out of breath as she sets her purse down. "What did you order?"

"Pumpkin spice, of course."

"Yes, there's my basic bitch friend. Sorry, I heard the judgement there. I'll do better. Let me be right back with the true MVP of fall beverages, the salted caramel mocha."

I chuckle. She didn't offend me, that's a universal joke about every white girl who orders a pumpkin spice latte, but it's good that she realized she was being judgmental. Baby steps.

While she orders and then waits for her drink, I watch a bit more of our video from last night.

It's time for a game called "foreign film dub," and Paige's name is called from the basket, along with Layla's and two other seniors I'm still getting to know. It's only now that I realize her presence at the party last night didn't bother me. I didn't even notice her there, to be honest. I don't know what I was doing during this scene--maybe this was when Thatcher and I stepped to the back of the basement to whisper with Patti and Moth about group chat plans--but last night, Paige was just another person from Ensemble Theater instead of my number one threat.

Gina sits down with her steaming fall drink. "Back," she says.

With Paige on my mind, I ask, "So, what would you do if Dylan had a class with a girl who used to like him, but promised she would try her best not to anymore?"

Gina sits up in her seat. "Oh, this would not work for me. There would be schedule changes, restraining orders, the whole nine," she says with a smile. Gina is dramatic, but I don't doubt the schedule change conversation would happen if she were in my shoes.

I smile and roll my eyes. "Assuming you were me?"

She takes a sip of her salted caramel mocha. "Fill me in, girl. Which theater bitch is creeping in on your man?"

This all feel so familiar, so comfortable. Like even though we haven't been friends for six months now, none of that time made any difference. Part of me feels relieved by this. I don't like actively ignoring someone who used to be a big part of my life. But a larger part of me, the part that remembers all of the judgement and all of my unhappiness when Gina and I were close, wants to immediately retreat from this conversation. I've opened up too much, too fast.