Rayne & Delilah's Midnite Matinee(46)

“Well, that was awkward,” Josie says, unlocking her car. Someone whistles at her. She shoots them a caustic look. “I mean, I almost feel guilty we came.”

“He was glad you did.”

“I guess.” Josie backs out until a jacked-up Dodge pickup honks at her, and we’re on our way.

???

It’s uneasily silent; I can tell Josie is mulling. I decide to test the waters. “You wanna pick up some snacks for pre-production?”

Josie hesitates. “Would you be totally pissed if we did pre-pro another time?”

Yes. “Why?” I try to sound nonchalant.

“I feel like I should swing by and try to cheer up Lawson.”

“He seemed like he wanted to be alone.”

“He seemed like he wanted to seem like he wanted to be alone, but actually he wanted someone to come cheer him up.”

“He has his family.”

“I get the sense he feels a little differently about me than his three brothers.”

“Just go tomorrow.”

“Haven’t you ever tried to sleep on a night when something really crappy has happened to you? It sucks.”

“You’re literally asking me if I’ve ever tried to sleep when something crappy has happened to me?”

“See? You know.”

Something in my chest feels like it’s pinching me. Drawing me into myself. Making me small inside. “I also know that we always do pre-pro on Saturday night. It’s our thing.”

“DeeDee. We can do it another time. Tomorrow.”

“JoJo. That’s totally not the point. The point is: this is a thing we do, it’s our job, and you wanna ditch out to go cheer up a dude you just met because he barely lost his fight.” I know in my heart I’m being super unchill. But I can’t help it. The pinching in my chest worsens.

“So not fair. He’s my friend—our friend, honestly—not some dude I just met.”

“This isn’t even about him. It’s about a lack of dedication.”

Josie gives a clipped laugh. “You cannot be serious right now.”

I shrug.

“Lack of—Dude, I have worked on this show with you religiously. We have done legitimately dozens of episodes. And I don’t even—” She cuts herself off.

“What? You don’t even what?”

“Nothing.”

“No, just say it. You don’t even like doing this show with me.”

“That is not remotely what I was about to say.”

“Sure.”

“DeeDee.”

“What were you going to say?”

“I don’t even know. Geez, it was a half-formed thought. Cut me some slack.”

I slump in my seat and look out the window. “Whatever. Do what you gotta do.”

“Can you please be cool about this?”

“Yessiree!” I say in my most obnoxious faux-cheerful voice.

“If the shoe was on the other foot, you’d be really grateful.”

“What, like if I had been defeated in hand-to-hand combat and you came to visit me?”

“Exactly.”

“I’d want to be alone, probably.”

“Whatever, DeeDee.”

We get to my trailer. Mom’s sign is illuminated in the front yard. The pinching in my chest has become a vise grip. I feel like I’m watching something I dropped in the bathroom bouncing right before it’s inevitably going to fall right into the toilet. I’ve been a total clown dildo. But I think Josie has too, a little.

I get out.

“Are you cool?” Josie asks.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

“DeeDee, we can do pre-pro another time. I kinda gotta go comfort Lawson now if I want to be a good friend.”

“It’s fine. Go.”

“Love you, DeeDeeBooBoo.”

“What are you even going to do over there?”

“I was thinking about making him some pancakes. They’re his goony favorite food.”

“You’ve never cooked even one thing.”

“I’ve cooked pancakes! How dare you?”

“You should go get that premade batter they have in squeeze bottles at the grocery store. That’d be hilarious.”

“Wait, are you serious? They sell pancake batter in bottles?”

“Yep.”

“Obviously it’s gross, right?”

I shrug. “I’m guessing it’s not terrific?”

“How amazing would it be to carry one of those bottles in your water bottle carrier while you’re out biking, and you stop to talk to some people, and while you’re talking, you just casually squirt some in your mouth and swish it around.”

I laugh in spite of myself. “And there’s like extreme energy pancake batter with B vitamins and caffeine and whatnot.”

We both laugh for a second or two, and it feels good.

“Love you, DeeDeeBooBoo.”

“Love you, JoJoBee.”

“I’m sorry for ditching out.”

“It’s cool. Let me know how the squeeze-bottle pancakes are.” I shut my door and walk to my trailer. I’m not mad anymore, just sad.

Josie drives away, leaving me behind.