Funny Feelings (47)

“Meyer?”

“What?”

“Uh, did you want to call Hazel?”

Shit. “Oh— yeah, I would, but Marissa took her to a movie tonight.”

She smiles and shrugs. “Alright. How’s her state project going?”

I can’t help but laugh, leaning in to her ear while Kara and Shauna are back at the bar. “Fee, you’re in the city, in your twenties, in the prime of your life and career, with two of your idols. And you want to hear about a report on South Dakota?” She laughs back as the music gets louder, then slips into ASL.

“I’ll save my voice this way. And yes, I want to hear about Hazel’s South Dakota, because anything that kid does is funnier and better than any other stupid report on the place.”

I blink when she finishes, shaking my head. “How did we get so lucky with you? Who do I thank for you coming into her life?” I sign. They’re all the words that come to mind.

“You can thank a shitty umbrella!” she replies with a laugh.

Something catches the corner of my eye and I turn to see Kara and Shauna staring at us, both sipping the little red straws in their drinks.

“That looked very intimate!” Shauna yells across the table, in a decidedly un-intimate way.

“My nipples feel all tingly!” Kara shouts, the music dying in the latter half of the sentence and drawing the eyes of everyone else in the place.

A voice comes over the sound system, then, “Alright, ladies and gentlemen! We’ve got a special surprise guest here for you tonight. I need everyone in here to give a warm welcome to Shauna Cooper!”

And the magic begins.





20





NOW





“Nobody really knows what they're doing. Some are just better at pretending like they do.” - Kumail Nanjiani





FARLEY


If I’d have known there was a surprise set tonight, I would have insisted it be mine.

When it’s time to do something that terrifies you, always, always go first.

I learned this when Marissa and I decided to go skydiving in college. Each step felt more treacherous and scarier as the process progressed, anxiety building at each step. What began with the instructor dipping into a serious tone and making eye contact with everyone, demanding that we all be honest when it came to filling out our weight so that we could be paired with the appropriately sized tandem diver, graduated to a ride in a rickety tin can that masqueraded as a plane. The man whose lap I sat strapped to was an on-brand, terrifying Aussie named Timothy (not to be confused with Tim, Timmer, or Timmy, I was informed) with a curly gray ponytail and zero sense of humor.

The biggest moment of terror (emphasis on error) came when they asked who wanted to go first. Marissa looked over to my horror-stricken expression and volunteered. She and her partner rocked once, twice, and then poof, my friend dissolved into the atmosphere. I actually screamed, over and over, until they calmed me down and told me she was fine, that it was just the velocity that made it look like she evaporated. I eventually sucked it up and went, swallowing back bile and unable to enjoy the experience until halfway down. It wasn’t until I went again, a year or so later, and was first to jump, that I found it to be the exhilarating thrill that so many claim.

So, as Shauna makes her way out onto the stage, and as people whip out their phones to make calls and take pictures, my anxiety begins to rev up. And it’s solidified when she absolutely kills it. The room does not stop laughing from start to finish. The jokes manage to be relatable even as she talks about mingling with celebrities. They manage to be moving and eye-opening on issues I’ve been clueless about. She’s so naturally funny, so creative with her poignant take, and so fucking brilliant.

It makes me suddenly wonder if I’m on some new messed up game show. Like Punk’d, except they tell you you’ve accomplished a dream before they pop out and tell you they were kidding, you were only nominated for charity, you’re actually not good enough. Cue laughter cards.

“Well I think it’s safe to say that stuff is staying!” she proclaims after dancing her way back to the table.

I try not to do this. This thing where I make everything about me. And, because I like Shauna, because I’ve worshipped her from a fan standpoint and I genuinely enjoy getting to know her as a friend, it is easy to be happy for her success. It’s also easy to enjoy sharing the same atmosphere of that kind of talent. So I set aside my inner bullshit and focus on those parts.

Plus, I’m buzzing, between drinks and laughter and the high still lingering from… earlier. Those flashes of Meyer’s face and hands and thoroughly coming apart above him. Not to mention anticipation of what’s to come. The rightness, and the relief that rides alongside the longing. Relief that he wants me, too.

I’m aware that I should be worried about the iceberg of emotion that we are—so much to still address beneath the surface, but I’m flat out floating on it for the time being.

“You fucking killed it,” I cheer for Shauna.

“And now you're totally freaked out, aren’t you?” Kara says with a laugh my way.

“How’d you know?”

“Because we’ve been there!” Shauna shouts, grabbing her drink. “I like to go first and get it out of my system before I sit on it too long, but I gotta say, I think you need to work with that PTA thing and play off of that. When you’re just talking, it goes a bunch of directions and it’s funny as hell.”