The Bookish Life of Nina Hill(26)

That evening, Nina could see the jacarandas were having their usual giddy effect: Every May, jacaranda trees burst into flower in an improbably riotous display of color. Ranging from deep purple to the palest violet, they bloom together on some prearranged schedule, so one night Angelenos go to bed in Kansas and wake up in Oz. They’re all over the city, hundreds of them, but until they bloom, they’re totally unremarkable. Like dozens of transformation scenes in movies from My Fair Lady to Mean Girls, jacarandas are the previously plain girl who suddenly gets a makeover and emerges triumphant to turn everyone’s head. They don’t last long, but while they’re there, people smile more. They flirt more. They feel spring in their step and summer in their underpants.

Nina hid behind her camera and watched people crowd together, or sail alone down the street, looking at one another from the corners of their eyes, noticing and seeing and ignoring like any herd congregating around a water hole. She never felt more contented than she did when she was seeing and taking pictures and being invisible. She thought maybe owls felt the same way, but she couldn’t turn her head 270 degrees, which was a total bummer.

Anyway, once the light had gone, she would take this happy feeling of peace and purpose with her to the movie theater, where she would sprinkle herself with heavily buttered popcorn and then spend the whole movie picking it out of her teeth.

The ArcLight was a Hollywood institution, a movie theater with great seats and amazing sound, plus the usual healthy range of unhealthy movie snacks. Nina loved going to the movies alone, even though Saturday night was always crowded.

It turned out it wasn’t Polly who had the pull with Fate, it was Nina, because the first person she saw as she walked into the movie theater lobby was the guy from You’re a Quizzard, Harry.

No, she said to herself. Ignore him. But then he looked up and saw her and smiled. Unbeknownst to her, he’d seen her, thought she was someone he knew, smiled, then realized she was someone he knew, she was that quiz girl who knew everything and not actually a friend of his, but by then it was too late because she was smiling back at him. Uncertainly, but definitely smiling.

Crap, thought Tom. She’s really so pretty.

Crap, thought Nina. He’s gorgeous.

Crap, thought Lisa, the girl from Quizzard, who had walked into the lobby to meet Tom to see a film and immediately saw Tom and Nina smiling at each other in a strained fashion across a twenty-foot distance. Go! she thought to herself, or rather to Tom, go talk to her. But he wasn’t moving, and the girl wasn’t moving, and so Lisa decided she needed to take matters into her own hands.

“Hey, Tom!” she called out, raising her hand.

Oh thank God, thought Tom, though he was also a little annoyed with himself. Why couldn’t he have gone and said hi, made a new friend? What was this, kindergarten?

Ah, thought Nina, he IS dating that girl from his team (which we all know is suicide for team cohesion) and that’s that. Not that there was any that there in the first place, of course . . . And then she realized the girl from Quizzard was walking toward her with a big, broad smile on her face. Behind her, Tom was wobbling in his trajectory, thrown by Lisa’s sudden darting movement. His sneakers squeaked on the polished concrete floor.

“Hey there, I know you, don’t I?”

Nina was a full adult, capable and competent in many ways, but this simple greeting made her blush and get flustered. “Uh . . . well . . .”

“From trivia league, right?” said Lisa, holding out her hand. “I’m Lisa. Our team beat your team last week.”

Nina nodded, shaking her hand. “Yes, I remember. I’m Nina.” She paused. “January the first.”

“I’m sorry?” Lisa shot a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Tom was coming over. He wasn’t. She micro-frowned at him, and he started to move.

“Racehorses. January the first. That’s how you won.”

“With racehorses?”

“Yes. You won with a question about racehorses.” Nina was starting to feel a little desperate for this conversation to be over. The good-looking guy was approaching; it was too late.

“That’s right,” said Lisa, smiling at Nina as if the two of them had known each other forEVS. Then Tom joined them and Lisa revealed herself as the manipulative mastermind she truly was. “Oh, hey, Tom, this is Nina. Do you remember her from Quiz League?”

“Of course.” Tom had had an additional fifteen seconds to compose himself, and felt utterly capable of exchanging pleasantries and walking away. “I’m Tom. Nice to meet you properly, if you know what I mean.”

Nina shook his hand, feeling her systems coming back online. “The feeling is mutual.” (No, Nina! What the hell was that? Why do these stupid phrases come out of your mouth? What’s next, gum would be perfection?)

“So, here’s the weirdest thing,” said Lisa. “I can’t see the film after all, so here, have my ticket and you guys can go together.” She pushed her ticket into Nina’s hand and started to back away.

“No,” Tom yelped. (Great, Tom, attractive noise. Let’s hope she’s got a secret fetish for yodeling.) “Why? You texted me like ten minutes ago saying you were looking forward to it.”

“I have a sudden headache,” said Lisa.

“I have Advil in my bag,” said Nina, also in a somewhat higher voice than normal.