Happy Again (This is What Happy Looks Like #1.5)(19)
She glanced to the right, where she could see the backs of her friends’ heads, and beside them the empty seat where she was supposed to be. But she stayed where she was, leaning against the wall, tucked back where nobody could see her.
Except Graham.
Even from a distance, even with a whole theater full of people between them, she saw him notice her there, saw his attention shift in her direction, and her whole body felt alive with it, tingling beneath that gaze of his. She stood up a little straighter, lifting her chin and staring right back at him.
“Any others?” asked the moderator, who was standing behind the podium. Dozens of hands shot up around the theater, and Ellie realized that this must be the audience portion of the question-and-answer period. In each aisle, there were a few ushers holding portable microphones, ready to run them over to whoever might be chosen.
But before the moderator could pick anyone, Graham raised his own microphone.
“Actually,” he said, his voice bouncing around the cavernous space, “I see someone in the back by the exits there.”
The whole crowd seemed to turn as one, swiveling in their seats to see who he was pointing at, and there was a moment of confusion when they couldn’t spot any raised hands.
“Where are you…?” said the moderator, a hand shading his eyes as he squinted out over the crowd. A bewildered usher had run halfway up the aisle and stood panting a little as he scanned the faces in the back.
“Yeah,” Graham said, the word echoing. “There by the exit.”
It took Ellie a moment to realize he was talking about her, and when she did, her face went prickly with heat. She started to take a step backward, but the usher had already zeroed in on her and was moving fast in her direction.
She glared across all that space at Graham, knowing he was too far away to see the look on her face. But all the lovely thoughts she’d been thinking about him—all the joy she’d been feeling over their unexpected reunion—drained right out of her.
She was going to kill him.
“Oh, yes,” the moderator was saying as the audience twisted in their seats to look at the red-faced girl in the back whom Graham Larkin had singled out. “Go ahead, then.”
The usher—a pale, bespectacled guy who couldn’t have been much older than Ellie—thrust the microphone at her so hard it made a little popping sound when it hit her in the stomach, and she fumbled it for a second before getting a good grip.
For a moment, everything stood still. She peered out across the enormous theater, the microphone slipping a little in her sweaty hand, and saw Lauren and Kara and Sprague watching her with baffled expressions, staring as if they didn’t really know her—which was true. They didn’t know her. Not really.
She was someone who had fallen in love with a movie star, even though it was a crazy thing to do.
She was someone who’d been determined to make it to Harvard, even though the odds were against her.
She was someone who stole a boat once, who took leaps, who was big and brave and bold, or who was at least getting closer.
She was someone who said yes.
As the silence lengthened, the moderator cleared his throat, then prompted her again: “Did you have a question?”
This time, Ellie lifted her eyes to the screen, half expecting to see Graham laughing. But instead, to her surprise, he scowled at her.
And then she knew.
He was giving her a chance to be that person.
As she watched, he mouthed two words, which were impossible to make out. But it didn’t matter. She knew what he was trying to say: game face.
When he saw that she understood, his face rearranged itself into a grin, and even from that far away, there was something so contagious about it, so genuine, that without quite meaning to, Ellie found herself smiling too.
The moderator asked her once more: “Is there anything you want to say?”
And this time, she lifted the microphone, her eyes still on Graham.
“Yes,” she said.
Epilogue
From: [email protected]
Sent: Friday, September 26, 2014 11:11 PM
To: [email protected]
Subject: what happy looks like to me
So, I have a confession to make. I was lying before…
From: [email protected]
Sent: Friday, September 26, 2014 11:12 PM
To: [email protected]
Subject: re: what happy looks like to me
You don’t say!
From: [email protected]
Sent: Friday, September 26, 2014 11:13 PM
To: [email protected]
Subject: re: what happy looks like to me
Well, you sort of put me on the spot there.
From: [email protected]
Sent: Friday, September 26, 2014 11:15 PM
To: [email protected]
Subject: re: what happy looks like to me
Only because you put me on the spot first.
From: [email protected]
Sent: Friday, September 26, 2014 11:16 PM
To: [email protected]
Subject: re: what happy looks like to me
And look what happened: game face. Boom.
From: [email protected]
Sent: Friday, September 26, 2014 11:17 PM
To: [email protected]
Subject: re: what happy looks like to me
So are you trying to tell me that happiness isn’t making a great movie with a great cast? I’m shocked!